The worst part about parenting is comforting your child when their dreams are dashed and the fire that once shown so brightly flickers and dies. I have watched from the sidelines with an overwhelming sense of pride as my daughter performed at past dance class watch weeks and recitals. I couldn’t help but notice how my daughter’s eyes burned with the fire and passion she was feeling as she performed or the unequivocal joy that lit up her face. Her salient movements as she moved across the floor to the rhythm of the music always left me transfixed. I laughed myself silly when she struck Michael Jackson poses, mimicking the his dancing style with a quick grab to her crotch and the ability to flex her a$$ to perfection. With a heavy heart I witnessed the light leave her eyes when she read the missive for dance classes for the upcoming school year that arrived by mail. The head of the dance department had recommended she be placed in the next level of ballet/tap classes that normally followed the level she had completed the previous year. With a look of devastation, my daughter handed me the paper and told me in dismay that it was recommended she take a class with 6 year olds! A slap in the face for a girl soon to be the ripe old age of 11. Even worse, a ballet class for her age group was being offered by invitation only. The big problem was that she was not invited. With that one letter, my daughters dreams of dancing were wiped out and the fire in her eyes was extinguished.
The next day I contacted the powers that be to inquire if in fact there had been a mistake, a typo of some sort. Surely it could not be!! Last year her instructor had raved about her ability praising her constantly and now this??? I wanted to put that woman on the spot for dashing my daughter’s dreams. The answer was much as I had figured. She had simply been placed in the next level. The teacher assured me the ages didn’t mean a thing and my daughter would once again be dancing with her friends from the year before. My daughter was certain she was being placed with the little kids as punishment because she really wasn’t good enough. Her disappointment was palpable. Her heart hardened and her dance shoes are now buried in the deepest recesses of her closet, regardless of the fact the woman claimed she had been the best dancer in her class the year before.
Even though the lady practically pleaded that my daughter continue to dance, the damage had been done. There are days when being a parent is harder than others. I wish I could protect her and keep her from hurts felt from being uninvited. If I didn’t have to maintain a level of decorum, I would drive right over to that school, wait till she comes out, and kindly flip her off. I think even an old fashioned drive by mooning would make me feel better!! Surely faced with my big smiley bare a$$ she would get the message that she could kiss old rose and shove her dancing program where the sun fails to shine. Such a stunt would leave me laughing hysterically for weeks to come but wouldn’t solve anything. With my luck I would be arrested for exposing myself.
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