Olympians
Are people too
I find it quite symbolic that the Winter Olympics are happening at the height of another competition season that looms as large as world-wide sports in the eyes of many in my field: ballet competition regional semi-finals are in full swing around the country.
These days, there are several different competitions— too many to list here— many more than when I was a student. Back then, there were only a very few that I was aware of: the Jackson International Ballet Competition, Moscow International Ballet Competition, and the most famous of all, the Prix de Lausanne. All were much too elite for me to even entertain the notion of trying to enter.
I did do one competition myself, though, when I was a senior in high school. It was much lower-profile than any of the big international ones and, subsequently, there were no stakes. Nonetheless, it did not go well for me. Nowadays, it’s called YoungArts, but I think in the ‘90s it was…. something about youth and advancement and the arts. It was held in Miami, and to get there, you had to have yourself videoed doing a variation (pre-smartphone, that was a much more involved endeavor than it is today) submit it (by mailing in a VHS tape), and then wait. Notification came by way of a telegram!!! Can you believe? I don’t know why they used Western Union instead of a phone call or letter. But anyway, I got invited to go to Miami, along with a few classmates, for a weekend of mixing and mingling with other artsy teenagers (the competition included multiple disciplines— classical and contemporary dance, instrumental and vocal music, theater, and I think even visual art), taking a master class or two, and performing our solos for the judges.
You can read more about why my experience was not so hot here, in this article I wrote for Pointe a few years back about the type of mindset a dance student should have when going to a competition. I’ll just say that in hindsight that although I came back a bit deflated, it didn’t last: I sincerely wish I’d had the chance to do more such things. The first time out, I learned how to do it— I saw and felt how to handle myself, mentally and physically and emotionally. I got the drift. I noticed how the kids around me were handling themselves, took some cues, and translated them for my own use. Even without getting close to the top award, I felt validated and purposeful.
It was just as well, since a few months later I was launching into my professional career and not looking back. But now that I have students who DO have multiple chances to prepare for and participate in competitions, I see again how valuable they are. Ballet comps have gotten a bad rep for looking like sheer money-making enterprises that don’t give enough back to the young dancers who peg so much on them. But, while I agree with some aspects of that argument, I think for most students— like myself— the benefits are real. I love helping my students decide whether to take part— the mere fact of their interest in doing so signifies something— prepping them over a few months, and then guiding them through the actual event. Of course, this is nothing like the Olympic Games, but the psychology of it all is the same, just on a smaller scale. And no gold medals, podiums, or anthems.
There was an article in the New York Times the other day headlined “What Olympians Can Teach Us About Disappointment.” Aha, I thought— dancers don’t need to learn from Olympians because, like a serious athlete, they encounter such things (no, not on the world’s stage, but still) day in and day out. I stand firm that not every disappointment is a bad thing. There are the tiny ones— GRRRR, I can’t nail that pirouette!— the medium ones (casting) and the ones that make it seem like the world should stop turning because this thing— whatever it is— is so awful (major injury, job loss… things that happen in most any industry). Over time, they add up and lose sting, but add the friction that breeds what people call “grit.” The NYT article describes the tools athletes hone through their training so that disappointments are strengtheners instead of kicking them over: the power of purpose (any dancer has this as their magic weapon), a team of supporters (teachers, fellow dancers, family), and just a sheer love of and compulsion to keep doing what you’re doing are what enable a person— dancer, athlete, average Joe— to keep putting one proverbial foot in front of the other.
A few weeks ago, I took a group of students to the Youth International Ballet Competition. We were almost derailed by an ice storm, but the administrators of the comp condensed the schedule and all my kids were able to take their adjudicated classes and perform their solos. And all did wonderfully under multiple types of pressure and, I think and I hope, came home with a new layer of pride, assurance, self-awareness and worldliness. Let’s be honest— who hasn’t fantasized about being an Olympic champion? Personal triumph deserves a moment on the podium, whether there are TV cameras on you in a packed arena and cheering fans or not.
Pub date for Infinite Steps is a month away… and pre-ordered books ship THIS WEEK!!!! Ahh!
Raleigh-area folks, please save the date and come see me at Quail Ridge Books on March 17.
Asheville-area folks, please save the date and come see me and Megan Jones Medford at Malaprop’s Books on March 22.
New York-area folks, you can come say hi at the American Dance Guild Book Fair on March 29!
More events to be announced soon! Stay tuned.
And of course… don’t forget to order yours if you haven’t already. Use discount code 31SAVE for 20% off.
And lastly, happy (belated by the time you read this) Valentine’s Day from the lovely dancers at BCA!
