By Paul S. Brittain

The little girl on the end of the line is crying hysterically. Another girl is watching the child beside her, who seems to be the only member of the baby ballet group who knows every move. At least she’s making it appear that she knows all the moves. There are missteps, stumbles, and several tots who simply stand in place during the entire number. The scenario could be from any beginning number at any dance school anywhere. But one thing is certain: The crowd loves it.           

From my seat in the back of the auditorium, I can watch this performance between the numbers I’m announcing for the 35th-anniversary dance concert of my sister-in-law’s school, Larraine Susa’s Dance Unlimited, in Uniontown, Pennsylvania. I turn to the man who is handling the stage lighting and tell him, “I always wonder which of these kids will someday make up the senior dance company, become Miss Dance of America, or dance on Broadway.” He chuckles as the number ends with the line of toddlers marching offstage to raucous applause. One precocious little girl stops just before disappearing behind the curtain, bows, and blows a kiss to the crowd.

I’ve been a dance teacher’s husband for 28 years now, and I’ve gotten to see quite a few aspects of the world of dance. There has been plenty of travel to major cities such as New York City and London, along with competitions and performances both near and far. We have watched many children grow up to become national winners, Radio City Rockettes, dance teachers and next-generation dance moms. There have been many marriages and some divorces. A few former students are no longer living; others have successfully fought cancer or other serious illnesses.

Many of our memories are preserved in piles of recital program books, boxes, and albums of pictures. I even have the autographed pointe shoes of one of our longtime favorites displayed on an upstairs bookshelf.

My wife and I have no children of our own. But the dance school students have been our “kids,” so to speak. In our younger years, we hosted sleepovers at our home, when I would inevitably ask my wife questions such as: “Don’t kids ever turn the light out when they leave the room?” “Don’t kids ever wash the cereal and milk out of the bowls before setting them in the sink?” Or “Do kids always waste so much food?” We didn’t realize that through those experiences we were playing roles that we’d later see on “reality television,” years before such a catchphrase would be created. Can you imagine: Paul and Kathleen Plus 12?

My wife and I have no children of our own. But the dance school students have been our “kids,” so to speak.

When the little girls at those sleepovers grew into their late teens, one of them became a pageant finalist. When she misunderstood the final question and answered it incorrectly, my wife and I felt the kind of agony we imagine her parents must have experienced.

And the young woman showed great maturity after placing as fourth runner-up and learning about her faux pas, saying, “Oh well, that’s the way it goes.”

A group of those former students gathered for dinner after the anniversary show, reliving old times and catching up on the changes in each other’s lives. It was obvious how all those dance classes had prepared those former baby ballerinas for adulthood and formed lasting bonds of friendship. Pointing to my gray hair, I tell them, “While we were watching all of you grow up, we were all growing old.”

To me, every little girl or boy who walks through the dance school doors each night is a winner. These kids don’t need titles, trophies, plaques, or platinum medals to prove it. Obviously, their talent levels aren’t equal, and not everyone continues into a career in the dance world.

The value of dance training extends beyond the limited perception that only professional dancers have benefited from those hours of sweat, aches, pains, laughter, and tears spent around the barre. The discipline, social interaction, and exercise prepare students for future life experiences in the workplace, marriage, parenting, and for dealing with the unknown successes and disappointments that lie ahead. Best of all, an extended family has been created.

In this case, I’m proud to say that it’s my extended family.

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