In March, I was invited to the graduation show of the
Warsaw Ballet School. It was not just a concert to me. It was a bittersweet
comeback to the “Teatr Wielki Opera Narodowa” in Warsaw, the home of Polish
National Ballet, to watch my own class graduate. Seeing my classmates, I saw
the other way my life could have gone, but never went. The scent of the
theater, the atmosphere, all the familiar faces and the stage sent me on a stroll
down the memory lane…
Ever since I remember, I dreamed of becoming a
ballerina. My parents signed me up for ballroom dancing when I was five, and
even though my dance partner and I won a gold medal in our dance studio’s
competition, I was complaining all the time that it wasn’t ballet. Finally, I
took my first ballet classes when I was six. I was one of the bravest kids in
my group, I always wanted to have a solo and I always did my best, always stood
first in line, and always was the first to volunteer for dance improvisation.
At the age of nine, I was sure I was destined to
become a famous ballet dancer. My dance teacher asked me to dance at a bridal
fashion show, which was a big deal of a little girl. Later that year, I
received an award for being the best dancer in the group that year. It was a little statue
of a dancer, painted to look gold. It wasn't a huge prize but it had a great emotional value to me. This little
statue stands on my shelf to this day.
 |
| after receiving the award for the best dancer in the group |
 |
| dancing at the bridal fashion show |
That same year I auditioned for ballet school, and finally I started my professional ballet education at the age of
ten. In the beginning, it was like a dream come true. Ballet classes every day
plus any additional education that is needed for a professional dancer. There
were lessons in recognizing notes and musicality, folk dance, and stretching, and
even more to come in next grades! All the training was supposed to prepare us
to become professional dancers, ready to work in theaters around the globe. What
else could a ten-year-old with a big dream ask for?
 |
| In ballet school, aged 11 |
It didn’t take a lot of time for me to realize that it
was far away from what I expected. After spending four years at a dance studio
where teachers wanted us to achieve our dreams and encouraged us a lot, it felt
like a bucket of cold water was thrown on me. My ballet teacher turned out to
be not very supportive and even devilish in her comportment. She only complimented the
same three kids she favored, always making sure that the others felt insecure. It was very old-schooled way of teaching, which not only did not
improve our dancing skills but also took away the strength to keep practicing, and gave us
nightmares. One single look into her eyes felt like looking in the eyes of
Basilisk. There were girls who cried before ballet classes, who faked sickness
not to come. There were those who simply shook and trembled whenever teacher
approached or was about to say something. Some of them even ended up on deciding
to leave ballet school just because it was too much pressure for them. For the teachers it wasn't a big deal. We all knew that this is the way how the ballet schools work like in Eastern Europe, and ballet school in Warsaw was strongly influenced by the teaching methods of Russian ballet in the past.
However, I cannot say it was THAT bad. I did get to
live a tiny bit of my dream. I got the chance to dance in a real ballet with
Polish National Ballet. It was “Tristan”, an adaptation of “Tristan and Isolde”,
a ballet choreographed by Krzysztof Pastor, the director of the Polish National
Ballet. Some of my other classmates and I were hired to dance the role of
little children from the village, who are being saved by Tristan, when the villain
Mortholt tries to kidnap them. It was rather a tiny role involving lots of running around the stage but I danced it with
passion. Five minutes on stage with professional dancers felt like five minutes
in heaven. Some people say the small roles don't matter but I personally think
they are the most important! Without us the show would fall apart. Once, when
we were in the middle of the dance, one of the boys tripped me by accident and I
fell down, hurting my arm. It was an excruciating pain, but I had to get up in only seconds. If I didn’t get up, the principal dancer would run into me and I would
ruin the show. Luckily, I managed to get up and save the show. For spectators
we were just tiny kids appearing in the show for a moment, a crowd on stage. I am sure
that many of them don’t even remember that there were kids in that ballet, but for
me the magic of those moments will stay forever, I will remember it for the
rest of my life.
 |
| backstage, dressed in the costume for "Tristan" |
When I was thirteen I had to leave ballet school, I
was told I was too tall. I simply grew faster than my other classmates. That year
eight of the tallest girls from our class were asked to leave. I knew I didn’t
deserve to leave, I knew that there were other girls who danced far worse that I
did. They had only one advantage; they were little. I can only speculate that
the teachers were afraid we would get too tall and that there would be no male dancers
strong and tall enough to pick us up when needed to.
Funny enough, I haven’t gotten that much taller since. My shoe size hasn’t changed since 7th grade. Now I
know I have perfect figure and height for ballet, but how would they know it
back then? From that and perhaps some other inexplicable reasons they didn’t allow
us to stay.
Looking back, I am glad that I left ballet school.
Back then, I was totally broken, I couldn’t imagine my life without being a
dancer. I saw it as the end of my life. I know it now, I was wrong. If it didn’t
happen, I probably wouldn’t be writing this post today. Leaving ballet school
led me to making different choices, focusing on my education that led me to
higher academic achievements and my exchange year in the United States. Having
stayed in ballet school, I would only learn the profession, not the academics,
and I would have never gotten the chance to spend an amazing year in Texas.
I never stopped dancing. I never could. I joined a
group from the dance studio I used to attend before going to ballet school, and
I was quite satisfied. Only with time, I noticed the effects of lacking regular
practice. To stay in shape I should practice at least three times a week. I
wished I could practice on the same level as I used to in ballet school, but I
knew it was impossible. I knew I wouldn’t be able to find ballet classes that
have level as good as those in ballet school. At the time there were no studios
that offer this level of ballet, and I didn’t want to primarily dance other
dance styles. Even though, I was lucky. I was a part of one of the best groups
in my dance studio (and still am). Dance has always brought me so much joy, and
being outside ballet school allowed me to do it just for fun. There was no more
screaming of the teacher or repeating one exercise countless times just because
someone didn’t point their feet enough. I had the advantage of professional
training that allowed me to establish my position in the group. The teacher
finally appreciated me and classes were pure pleasure. I started learning jazz
and modern dance. I was happy to dance in competitions and different shows with
my friends. I was happy I could still do it and have solos, and not stand in
the back row. I was reconciling with the idea of never becoming a professional
dancer. They took away to become a professional for me but they couldn’t take
away my passion.
 |
| dancing at the dance studio concert after leaving ballet school |
Even though, I knew I was happy in my new life, I used
to think a lot about it a lot. I always wondered “what if?”
“What if?” is one of the most powerful questions. It
not only allows us to dream but it also allows the past to enslave us. A
question that cannot be answered. It keeps us awake at night, always bothering,
hanging like a shadow over head, asking what could our life be like, if we made
a different choice or got one more chance. That same thing happened to me. I kept thinking and thinking about what could
have happened if I got the chance to stay in ballet school. It kept me up all
night a couple of times, and even when I thought I forgot, each time I went to
see a ballet; it kept coming and coming back. This question kept bothering me
until I lived through two major events in my life.
Only after attending dance classes in Dallas last
year, and going to see that graduation concert last month allowed me to let go
off the question and let go off the past...
To be continued…
at the ballet studio concert, third from the left
No comments:
Post a Comment