Dance and I have had a strange relationship ever since I was young. I was happy to dance as a child and found it so easy to just move without inhibitions. I think with age when dancing began to be labeled as dancing, and by that I mean it was something I realised other people, and ultimately my own inner critic, could judge me for, I began to feel anxious. That being said I’ve managed to combat that fear and although I wouldn’t call myself a dancer (ie someone who is very strong in the field), I can dance. The anxiousness surrounding dance hasn’t fully disappeared but instead has manifested itself in a newfound healthy way which promotes personal growth.
When I was really little my favourite songs were Let Me Blow Ya Mind by Gwen Stefani and Eve and also Fallin’ by Alicia Keys. I’d hear the beat drop and my legs would instantly start bouncing as I was sat on either my Mum or Dad’s laps. My nickname from my Mother is “Jigs” which is short for “The Jiggle Monster” because I used to lie on the floor as a baby and would start moving my body when I heard music! Music has a really cool power I think to just cause a response in the body. What I think is cooler is the ability to control that response to music and choreograph something which articulates how you feel. Flash forward a few years, I remember performing to my family one day before dinner a dance I had choreographed to Cheryl (then) Cole’s Fight For This Love. I’d spent all evening up in my bedroom watching the music video over and over, teaching myself some of my favourite parts whilst filling in the gaps with my own moves. Ten years on, it’s utterly cringeworthy thinking back to it, but childhood innocence is an adorable thing all at once..!
Then suddenly the notion of just letting my body respond to music felt so daunting. In Mauritian culture, family parties involve getting up on the dancefloor and dancing till the early hours of the morning. When I was younger I’d dance and join in the party happily until it was time to go home, but from the age of 10/11 onwards, you could find me sat down at a table not wanting to dance out of anxiousness. I would inevitably get dragged up during Li Tourner which is a sega track that I’d happily dance to but then feel really weird in my stomach afterward and have to sit down again because I felt embarrassed.
I don’t know what specifically caused the change in me emotionally but I have a feeling it was linked to when I realised one’s dance ability was judge-able, this was shortly after I got involved with musical theatre. My first memory of being terrified of dance was the auditions for my year six production of Hairspray in primary school. I remember this day so vividly, it’s mad! We had learnt the dance to You Can’t Stop The Beat and I just wasn’t picking it up. I felt so self-conscious in the hall learning it with my friends who some of which were part of performing arts groups so in my mind they were instantly better than I was. I kept it together in the room but then went home to my Mum and cried… on my birthday! I was going to see my tutor that night who was a teacher at my school. Mum had messaged her how I was feeling so pre-warned her that I might’ve been a bit “off” that night. We arrived at her house and I was met at the front door with her wielding a mini roll with a candle in it whilst she sang happy birthday. We had a chat about the auditions and I told her that I was scared for the dance call but not singing. Her response to that was to just try my best and do what I know I’m good at which is what I did the next day. I went in, absolutely BS’d my way through the dance call but sang my heart out when I needed to and I ultimately got the part I auditioned for!
I started going to weekly dance classes as part of a performing arts group I joined in 2013. This group, in all honesty, was more of a confidence-boosting after school club than training however it helped set the foundations of passion for my craft. I was initially enamored with dance and my first week at that class I adored, but as time went on I became really self-critical and would dread my final lesson of the day. That would all one day change when I had a new teacher start working with me and she really wanted to push her student’s technique instead of just throwing routines at them, thinking it was already within their skillset. This new teacher initially scared me a bit but that was because she pushed me like mad as she wanted me to improve for my benefit. With her support, I began to come out of my shell in late 2016 and wasn’t as afraid.
And then I dislocated my kneecap which meant I couldn’t walk for months, let alone dance.
My accident is absolutely the thing that has at times hindered my growth and passion for dance in the past three years. Whether it is a technical thing which I physically cannot yet do because some parts of my body are still recovering, or an emotional one where I put up barriers of “I’ll never be able to do this as I’ll only get injured again”, my fear of dance returned after January 2017. It’s been an almighty battle, but I’m now proud of where I am dance wise. I’m far from perfect- I had a friend of mine (who is a phenomenal dancer) sending me video tutorials on how to improve my pirouettes last month as I sent off self-tape auditions for drama schools. However, this knowledge that I’m not perfect is essentially rocket fuel for me wanting to improve.
When I started a foundation course last year I had to learn to embrace a dancer “look” and by that I mean I had to start wearing leotards and tights which initially made me feel so exposed. I felt like an imposter as I thought, at that point, it was wrong to think about wanting to dance because I was categorically not a dancer. With time though I got used to seeing myself in front of a mirror dancing and I became more comfortable with what I wore to the point where I felt more like me in dancewear than I did in anything else. For me, the dancer look isn’t just the typical attire because I have knee supports, bandages, and leg warmers in my wardrobe as a result of my accident. Coming to terms with the fact that my accident would have repercussions sometimes so I would end up putting on a support sometimes was really uncomfortable at first. I later recognised that injuries are somewhat inevitable and mine were always going to have their moments (throwback to the time I popped my hip out during class…!). This didn’t mean they had to stop me though so I just kept going and I began to worry less about my body – instead I enjoyed just letting it do its thing!
The environment I was in at college was nothing short of supportive. It pushed me like mad but I’m so lucky to have had incredible teachers and an awesome class who always helped me feel at ease. My confidence has soared and I’m less anxious to dance! The classes I’ve been to outside of college as a result of this positive environment have each been carefully selected to keep this positive feeling. Some classes I went to only to not return after a few sessions because I didn’t feel the vibe was right for me. I need a supportive environment but one which pushes me like mad. Some classes I went to didn’t feel as warm as I would’ve liked whereas others didn’t as much of a foot on the gas I need to improve. The classes where I’m a regular are the perfect balance!
I wouldn’t say I’m scared of dance anymore. Okay, it still makes me feel a bit nervous at times but that’s only in environments such as auditions where it’s normal to feel that way. There is no longer a fear. It’s realistically taken about seven years to get to a point where I’m totally comfortable but there are a few things which have helped me along the way I would put in my list of top tips, they are:
- Find classes which support you and your current abilty. Be realistic about what you can do now but don’t be afraid to push your limits to get where you want to be.
- You get out what you put in. Don’t sit there moaning, wondering why you aren’t a strong dancer if you don’t go to class in the first place or push yourself outside of normal classes. You need to be persistent and determined. It’ll be hard, but don’t quit.
- Wear clothes which make you confident. If you look the part, you’re halfway there I think because your brain and body register what you’re about to go through so there’s almost a natural discipline which comes with that. Also dress to make yourself feel good, you’re already doing something nervewracking so why make that harder by worrying about the cut of a leotard?
- Dabble in lots of different areas. You don’t need to do only one style of dance, try it all and see what feels best for you. Also, don’t feel afraid to try something which isn’t your typical class for a bit of fun. If you’re a jazz dancer, why not try a bachata class?
- Don’t go to classes with your friends when you’re starting out. It sounds so mean to say but go and try classes out by yourself. You will subconsciously cling to your friend as a support in an alien environment which has potential to make you hold back in going full out. If you go alone, nobody in that room has probably seen you before so you don’t know thier opinions of you and in all honesty who cares? You care about what your friends think more than strangers so being friend-less helps. The only class I’ve ever started for the first time with a friend was ballet with my best mate, Arianna. We got split up instantly by the teacher and we don’t really see each other in class but that in some ways makes class less daunting as it’s your space.
Dance is an awesome thing. That’s something I never expected myself to say a few years ago but I really enjoy it. That’s the most important thing – the enjoyment you get out of it. It’s natural to feel awkward doing something new to you but that doesn’t mean it’ll be like that forever. Work on your weaknesses is one of the best bits of advice I’ve ever been given because, eventually, they won’t be your weaknesses anymore.
The Deskbound Dramatic 