So You Think Your Kid Can Dance

FirstKid is in a competitive dance troupe, and so far, she's loved every minute of it. In addition to the two and a half hours of regular technique class (ballet, jazz, tap, and pointe), she also goes to a one hour troupe class each week at which the current routine is taught and drilled. Competitions are held about five times per year, and this weekend was the first competition of this year.

I have to admit that the girls were simply out of their league at this event. While they certainly did their best and they looked good to me, they were far behind the other schools' teams in technical ability, polish, and creativity in choreography. Out of all of the schools of dance participating, they were the only school which got no awards at all. From my parental perspective, it makes no difference to me at all whether they win anything or not. The experience of competing and of learning how dance competitions and conventions work is valuable and exciting; the experience itself is the reward. Apparently, however, I am somewhat alone in my opinion.

The kids were understandably disappointed about their lack of awards, but the moms - oh, the moms. Out of the bunch of moms from our group, I was clearly the only one who didn't care about the awards. The rest were divided into two groups: the ones who complained about the teachers, the school, and the competition itself, and the ones who were wildly angry and ranted about the teachers, the school, and the competition itself. That latter group scared me.

Jane (no real names used) has two daughters who dance. Her older one, Sally, is a very talented ballet dancer who "outgrew" our studio, and moved on to a studio where ballet is taken very, very seriously. Her younger one, Molly, finally "outgrew" our current studio, but for her, it was all about the fact that she wasn't winning competitions with her group. She felt that she was capable of more, and may be correct, but more to the point is that she was not satisfied with the girls in the troupe. They didn't "want it" as much as she did. Whether their dancing reflected it or not, I think Molly would have been happier with them if they had been willing to rant and rave and carry on as much as she did. (Of note is that Molly, while technically doing everything right, is not innately graceful.) More significant to me was that Jane was so upset by every aspect of the weekend. The teachers were pathetic, the routines were pathetic, the school's owner was pathetic... You get the point, I'm sure. The first thing out of her mouth when the girls came out of the awards ceremony (empty-handed) was a comment about their loss, not anything about how well they had done, their effort, etc. Jane ignited a whole box of fireworks of comments and conversations, none of which were healthy or helpful. It really bothered me that she would likely be a role model to some of these girls. I didn't want them to think that it was all about winning, but none of the other moms seemed to mind Jane's behavior.

On the way home, I had a talk with FirstKid. I told her how proud I was of her - of her focus, her commitment, her teamwork, her stamina, and most of all, of her smile which lit up the stage. I was very serious, and FirstKid knew that, but she replied to me, "But Mom, we didn't win anything. We stunk!" I said, "Did you do your best? Did you give it your all? Could you have done anything differently?" She understood, and I was even more proud of her because she did understand. We talked a lot about the divas and drama queens, and FirstKid talked about the moms, too. She and I don't have those special mother/daughter moments as often as we used to, now that she's on the verge on teenager-hood, but this was one of those times. She told me how glad she was that I was the kind of mom who supported her all the time and showed my pride whether she won or lost. I know my kid can dance, but even better, I know she knows what's important. My work here is done.