10 Moments, 7 Choices and 5 People

Choice No. 2: Going to the Moon

               Before I could spell or count, my mother (like many mothers) put her two daughters in ballet. Unfortunately, putting on itchy tights and the emotional strain of mildly deranged instructors was enough to bring tears to my eyes every Tuesday and Thursday at 3 pm. Fortunately, Baba and I instantly befriended sisters our respective ages at our studio and our families grew quite close (despite being both very politically charged households, but on opposite ends of the spectrum). This dance studio was fairly prestigious amongst my school (T.U.B.) and my mom felt it was a right of passage for every young girl to take ballet at least until middle school, more for the non-technical lessons it taught. And a little piece of me didn't hate it...entirely...once I was there...if we didn't do bar. As the youngest and less dominant sister, I did whatever my hero and savior Baba did (not only in terms of following orders, but in replicating her every move). If she stayed in ballet, I stayed in ballet. If she stayed in piano lessons, I stayed in piano lessons. I had even coined the phrase "Baba way" to express my undying loyalty to her every decision. (Just now realizing how sad and cute and kind of culty that is). Anyway, when I was in second grade, Baba finally put her foot down about the whole classical training thing and with my unfaltering support, we convinced my mom to take us out of our Victorian marital training at the ripe age of 8. In hindsight, this was in my mother's best interest too, as our scam artist of a piano teacher charged $50 per weekly lesson per child, most of which was spent pretending we had to go to the bathroom or pretending we didn't understand spanish...the only language she spoke. Still, my mother was heart broken, and for a year we did no physical after-school activities with the exception of bed wrestling, advanced swing tricks and our attempt at one on one soccer. We grew further apart from our ballet sisters and former band mates we had grown so close to, forcing my attention for non-T.U.B friends to my only other non-T.U.B. acquaintance, Loro Alonzo, the only child of my mom's best friend. A top dancer at a much less strict dance studio heavily involved in the competition world of dance, I grew fascinated by her scandalous costumes and superior dance ability. It wasn't hard to convince my mom to enroll me at this new studio and as the independent fourth grader I was, I took classes from jazz to tap to pointe without my sister or Loro, who was already levels ahead of me. And oddly enough, I loved it. I was beyond dedicated and moved my way up quickly. By the middle of 6th grade, I had found myself in the top competition team alongside Loro amongst girls double our age and our third friend, Chucky who was two years our junior and the youngest on the team. I finally had a thing; something I was good at, something that I loved and something that was mine...and I became obsessed. Chucky, Loro and I spent everyday at the studio from right after school to 9:30 p.m. some days. We took every class, competed in every competition and used our awards and solo winnings as leverage to better our station as the youngest on the "big girl" team. While I must admit, the drama was amusing, my mom and I were usually the neutralizers in heated arguments between the "big girls", the studio owners, the teachers and Loro's and Chucky's moms. After years of what they felt was unjust treatment and poor instruction of our art, our three other friends left the studio. Torn between loving our position as big fish in a small, comfortable, funny little pond and our curiosity about what we could be at another studio, Loro, Chucky and I entertained the idea of leaving alongside said peers in 2012. Having spent the summer in the keys, I was in my own other world while they took guest classes at the studio where the famous Hector Biggey used to dance. Upon my return, they informed me that this was the studio for us and the switch had to be made...now. Happy with everything I had built for myself at our studio and not having looked into this new studio, I was hesitant to switch so soon. So, with the backing of my mom, the three of us stayed for another year. In an ironic turn of events, the owners treated us like royalty out of fear we were soon leaving yet resented us for our stronghold on them. Beside being incredibly entertaining, the year was filled with negativity and dance was no longer even about the actual dancing, but about the politics of it. As fate would have it, in May of 2013 at nationals, we crossed paths with the most elite studio in Miami (maybe even the entire east coast), the studio Hector Biggey owned, the studio that had its own Lifetime tv show, the studio that trained winners of "So You Think You Can Dance": Moon Dance Company.
             I like surprises. Sometimes they're inconvenient, but I can't call to memory a single surprise that in the long run I wish hadn't happen. Good ones anyway. Being caught off guard is just fun, especially if it takes you out of the continuity of routine...which brings me to my next little excerpt (one that I probably gave too long of a prologue for (but long prologues are my thing (you know that))). It would be sensible to now present to you the first of my five pivotal people (as pattern and continuity would suggest I am going to do). However, I don't feel I have given you a fair enough understanding of who I was and who I am. Thus, I don't feel it would be fair to use any of these people and their life's intersection with mine as a means of painting a clearer picture of myself...double thus, I will share with you another critical choice...one that quite obviously had a massive impact on my life.
               The year again is 2013. In retrospect, I made some pretty big decisions that year. It would be easy to say my choice to attend the high school I went to was critical. And it was. Still, it was hardly a choice of my own, as 90% of girls in my middle school went here and so had my sister. I'm almost glad I didn't really have to make that choice since I had what (at the time) felt like an infinitely more important choice in my wake: in the words of the late Joe Strummer...do I stay or do I go? It was again, hardly ever I who initiated the choices I made prior to high school. And that in and of itself is the first thing this choice specifically taught me. I don't like to make choices. Because of this, I often found myself hopping on bandwagons and Baba ways. But I guess no one really likes making hard choices. I read somewhere that the leading cause of dissatisfaction and unhappiness is having too many options... and I believe it. Anyway, Chucky's mom, who was actually the most perfectly insane person I have and ever will meet, catalyzed our decision to surely leave the old studio and instead of transferring to the studio Hector Biggey once danced at, decided we were going to transfer to the studio Hector Biggey owned. Long story short, Chucky's mom, probably too confident in our skills at the time, approached Hector at nationals, asked him to watch us, (by miracle he liked us) and by the end of the week, we officially resigned from our old studio. Of course what made this a critical choice is how incredibly different my life would have been should I have stayed, stopped dancing, gone to any other studio or just never have lived the plethora of defining moments I lived at Moon. Still, some of what earns this choice a spot in my top 7 is ironically my passiveness in it all. Of course I was thrilled and (looking back) beyond grateful it happen. However, it made clear to me how little of a go-getter I was and how much of a go-getter everyone else was. I just went with the flow and a little piece of me wishes I had just allowed myself to have an opinion. Oddly enough, my life has worked out flawlessly when I do just go with the flow (so maybe I'm just spewing lies), but that is one of, if not the, greatest lesson the whole transition really taught me: if you're not making the choice, someone else will make it for you. Whether that is for the best or the worst is up to you to decide but take it with all its ethos from 13 year old me.
                    As Loro and I began high school, we started as little fish in a massive pond at Moon, a metaphor I vividly remember hearing for the first time during this "stay or go" debate. I guess we never really graduated from being little fish in a big pond as the team was comprised of the best dancers in Miami and those who moved to Miami to be a part of it. Even though I wasn't the lead dancer as I had become accustomed to being in the last few years, I learned more about dance and life than any other studio could have taught me. And un-ironically, dance truly emulates life. Of course it's about passion and technique and blood, sweat and tears, but more importantly it's about humanity. Human connection between the people on the stage moving in harmonious synchronicity and human connection between the performer and his/her audience. Most memorably, Hector (a man who's character would take far too long to fully capture) and his business partner Papo taught us the beauty of the in betweens. I love watching six turns and incredible stunts just as much as the next guy, but the dancers who "make it" have often lost their ability to even kick their leg past 90 degrees. They are mesmerizing because they make every moment as important as the last. Every breath, every simple arm, every trivial step is just as powerful as those six turns and those incredible stunts. Often times, it's those moments that truly make the dance. The parallels between that and life are too obvious to further explain, but my time at Moon transcended into my everyday life and my appreciation of tiny moments. Moon brought me to the Deauville hotel in Miami Beach for a competition in 2016, a place that for whatever reason has captured my heart and soul. Moon brought me closer than ever to Loro Alonzo and taught me the importance of dedication (I got lazy my junior year and it showed). Moon brought me insight to the lives of a demographic I would not otherwise know anything about and offered me relationships and moments that shaped my being. Moon brought me laughter and artistry and inspiration, but most of all, gratitude for the simplest moments of this long number we call life...for those are the moments that make the dance.