Archive for the ‘2010 | 02 | February’ Category

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Teacher in the Spotlight | Paula E, Welter

Feature Articles
Higher Ed Voice | The Hip Hop Project
Ballet Scene | Ballet in the Big City by McKenna Karnes and Melanie Eccles
As the Dance Teacher Turns by Julie Holt Lucia
Computerized Choreography by Gina McGalliard
Too Much Too Soon by Melissa Hoffman and Debbie Werbrouck
Goodbye Indiana, Hello, Rome! by Debbie Werbrouck
All Together Now by Jennifer Kaplan
Students With Something Extra by Steve Sucato
Culture of Positivity by Sophia Emigh

Advice for dance teachers

Dear Rhee,
At the start of last year I hired a well-respected ballet teacher. She is a good teacher who is well prepared for her classes and I have noticed a big difference in my students’ technical skills. They are taking their ballet classes seriously, wearing the proper attire, with their hair in a bun, all of which I hoped for when I hired this teacher.

My problem is that she thinks the other genres of dance we offer are not as respectable as her ballet classes. She is always running overtime, making the students late for other classes. When another teacher asked her to end on time, she said, “These kids don’t need a jazz class; they need the real dance training that they are getting in my ballet classes.” I respect her opinion, but she makes comments like this in front of the students and their parents, which I consider demeaning to my faculty members and to the many styles of dance we offer.

I asked her to end her classes on time and refrain from making negative comments about other forms of dance. She said I should appreciate the fact that she is giving my students and me more than their money’s worth. I explained that the parents are paying for ballet, tap, and jazz and that I was cheating the students out of a full jazz and tap class. She responded that jazz and tap would not make a dancer but that ballet would, then stormed out of the room.

I appreciate the technical qualities that my students are gaining from this teacher, but the conflict in my mind is driving me crazy. Do I keep her and live with the fact that she dislikes what my school offers, replace her, or is there something else I can do? Thanks. —Sabrina

Dear Sabrina,
It sounds like this teacher has more going on in her head than you know. Maybe she lost out on jobs or performance opportunities to dancers who were not trained in ballet, or her own teachers may have told her that ballet was the only true form of dance. Regardless of the reason for her prejudice, she needs to respect the way your school runs and the curriculum or she needs to move on. Hopefully she will have the opportunity to see a performance or sit in on jazz or tap classes to better appreciate the students and qualified teachers who have passion for those forms of dance.

Have one more talk with her to say that refraining from making negative comments about any other dance forms is a condition of her continued employment with you. If she can’t abide by your request, then start looking for a new teacher.

Regarding the time issue, you could schedule a 15-minute window between her classes and the next. That would give her a reasonable window for overtime and still let the kids get to their full jazz and tap classes. I wish you all the best. —Rhee

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Dear Rhee,
I run a small school in a town with a population of 1,500. I chose the location because there were no dance studios within a 40-mile radius. For many years I have been pulling students from the surrounding towns, bringing my enrollment to 150. That number has allowed me to make a decent living, pay my rent, and employ a secretary and one teacher. The school is a four-days-a-week operation, giving me time to raise my children. Frankly, I loved my life.

Last fall two schools opened within five miles of my location. At first I concentrated on my own business and students. All went well for the first couple of months, and my enrollment was up by 10 percent.

Then one of the schools that opened got hold of my list of students. The owner has been contacting the parents of my students (on the phone and by mailing them postcards with coupons), offering them a two-month free trial at her school. She tells them that they will see a big difference in the training that she offers compared to my school. If they register with her after the trial, they will also receive a free summer session.

I have students who are taking classes from me one day and going to the other school for free lessons on other days. What is making her plan work so well is that she is offering her classes for my students on the days my school is closed, so my students are free to take them. One side of me thinks she is smart to do this and another side believes that this is completely unethical.

In speaking with some of the parents who are taking advantage of the free classes, I’ve learned that this school is very different from mine in terms of discipline and what it offers. There are no ballet classes and the students can wear whatever they want to class. The parents tell me that the kids are enjoying the classes and the teacher. They all mention that the kids love the hip-hop classes, which I do not offer. This school is also going to take its students to dance competitions, and I am not interested in becoming a competitive school.

Two of my students’ moms have told me that their children are not going to return to my school. They have chosen the new school because it is less expensive and the kids love the hip-hop classes and are looking forward to performing at competitions. I am devastated and can’t sleep because I fear that I am going to continue to lose my students. I can’t afford to offer free classes or summer programs, nor do I want to start bringing my students to competition. Do I get out before I lose my shirt, or do you have some suggestions on how to deal with this? —Small-Town Teacher

Dear Small-Town Teacher,
I am sorry to hear about your situation. I have to agree with you that this teacher’s behavior is unethical. No law prevents a teacher from opening a school, and I understand that people are free to operate their businesses anywhere they choose. But because you are in a small town, this teacher had to have known that her success would rely on pulling students from your school. If she didn’t know that when she opened, her actions indicate that she is well aware of it now. Targeting your students with offers of free classes is another indication that ethics don’t matter to her.

You have some decisions to make. Are you willing to invest more time in your school? I’m not talking about teaching more days; I mean spending time strategizing about how to take your business to a new level. Could you find a hip-hop teacher? Would you consider bringing some of your students to a dance competition? If the answer to any of these questions is yes, then I would stop losing sleep (I know it is easier said than done) and look at this as an opportunity to refresh your curriculum and learn how to stay one step ahead of the other school.

You’ve been at this a lot longer than the new school owner, so you have more loyalty and name recognition within your community than she has. Use those to your advantage by marketing how long you have been teaching the community’s children. Start to educate your clientele on the importance of the ballet training that you offer and the other school doesn’t. In addition to hip-hop, consider other curriculum that might add to your appeal. It could be anything from Zumba to lyrical or contemporary, as long as it is fresh and new to your clients. Some of what you try might not work, but the fact that you are expanding your offerings could be very enticing to your current and future clientele.

One thing is for sure: This teacher cannot afford to offer free classes for long and stay in business. My guess is that the “new kid on the block” appeal will wear off and that you will remain on top because of your longtime experience. Look at this as your kick in the butt to move on to new things and expand your horizons. Focus on the possibilities in front of you instead of worrying about the other school. Good luck! —Rhee

By Mignon Furman

Tip 1
Repetition, repetition, repetition—the only way to perfect a ballet movement is to do it over and over. Think of concert pianists who practice for hours to perfect only their fingering. Then think of dancers who have to perfect feet, legs, head, upper body, arms. How can you make this constant repetition enjoyable and meaningful for young dancers?

The trick is to do the same movement in different ways. Changing the timing, the placement of the head or arms, or the direction of the step adds interest and new challenges to the familiar.

Tip 2
Boredom is the greatest sin in teaching. A teacher who is infected with boredom spreads it to her students. Do not let burnout burn you up. Motivate yourself and prepare your class well. Act enthusiastic and smile a lot. Attend a teachers’ course to be refreshed and inspired to instill the joy of dance in your students. Remember, it was that joy that made you choose to become a teacher.

What you say, and how you say it, are as important as what you do

By Suzanne Martin, PT, DPT

Having a nice day? As teachers and studio owners, you’ve probably noticed that the quality of your day has a lot to do with the people you deal with. Dance education means lots of face-to-face interaction, and that means running the gauntlet of myriad personalities and their varying emotional states. When customer satisfaction is a necessary goal for survival—as it is for anyone involved in teaching dance—it’s important to work toward positive outcomes in both business and casual interactions.

It’s easy to forget that clients and employees often have their own agendas, which might be different from your own. All of us can learn from Mahatma Gandhi, the premier model of self-control in extremely difficult human relations. In one story I heard, when Gandhi was anticipating potential violence with soldiers as he held fast to his civil disobedience, he said he trusted that the soldiers would behave as what they were—soldiers. He didn’t expect them to act or behave any differently than as they were trained to do: to follow orders and provide military defense when instructed. True story or not, it’s a good example of the kind of thinking you should strive for.

If you don’t think like Gandhi—in other words, if you trust that people will behave in a way that they probably won’t—you’re setting yourself up for problems. Unrealistic expectations can lead to faulty communication. Remember the famous quote by cartoonist Walt Kelly, “We have met the enemy and he is us.” Make sure that you’re not contributing to communication problems by expecting others to behave or think as you do, or as you think they should.

Communication should be a two-way street, but it’s often one-way instead, with more twists and turns than San Francisco’s famed Lombard Street. To help you recognize verbal volleys, take control of your words, and dodge and dart your way to having a nice day, here are some tips inspired by Oakland-based communications consultant Sharon Strand Ellison’s Taking the War Out of Our Words: The Art of Powerful Non-Defensive Communication.

Power of words
Words contain power, packaged as questions and statements. To shed some light on how convoluted communications affect us, let’s start with the simple question. Or is it so simple?

Questions
Questions can be loaded with hidden meanings, containing either intentional or not-so-intentional adversarial statements. Consider two seemingly benign questions. First, one for students: “Do you want to be a professional dancer?” Spoken in different ways in different contexts, the meanings could range from “You need to work harder” (showing irritation or unmet expectations) to a non-loaded inquiry about future plans: “Are you considering dance as a career?” Add tone of voice, body language, and qualifiers like “always,” “ever,” and “never,” and the question’s meanings become even more layered and judgmental.

Now, one from a parent: “When will Susie perform [insert coveted role]?” The meaning could range from a simple request for a chronological date to a not-so-veiled expectation that Susie should be promoted, and soon.

The most volatile questions come with multiple choices that offer no appropriate answer or are self-incriminating. I know someone who was asked in a job interview whether he would prefer to kill someone with a knife or a gun. The poor guy was so taken aback that he completely blew the interview. (Oddly enough, the interview team didn’t understand what the problem was.) Before asking such a question, think about how you would feel if you were offered only compromised answers to choose from.

“Why” questions, a common form from children, often make us feel like we’re being interrogated. Students, employees, and inquiring parents might have innocent intentions but are not always tactful. Some zingers from children: “Why don’t you wear less makeup?” and “Why are you so fat?” Even in the face of such outrageousness, think before you answer. It’s easy to laugh off a child’s lack of social skills, but when dealing with adolescents and adults, use the three-second-wait rule. That brief delay helps you avoid knee-jerk replies that may come off as defensive, sarcastic, or judgmental.

Make sure that you’re not contributing to communication problems by expecting others to behave or think as you do, or as you think they should.

Adults might not understand that they are overstepping boundaries by asking questions that are none of their concern (why the school is run the way it is, for example) or that are distracting. Two questions I’ve gotten are “Why do you work so hard?” and “Why are your eyes so dark?” These questions are particularly annoying when I’m giving a client extra time and attention. A momentary lapse of decorum on my part could mean losing the client—and even worse, my response could zip along the gossip hotline and cause ill feelings with many people.

Ellison advocates replacing “why” questions with “what” questions whenever possible. Instead of “Why don’t you pick up your children on time?” try asking, “What’s stopping you from picking up Susie on time? She was upset the last few times you were late. How can we work together to resolve this?”

Statements
Now consider the other primary mode of common speech, the statement. Statements seem straightforward, and that’s the problem. Statements define authority, but they can mislead as well.

Definitions of authority
Start observing three things: how others use inclusive pronouns, state their opinions as facts, and speak in generalizations. Analyzing these practices will show you how to exert authority with conscious skill.

Inclusive pronouns such as “we,” “you,” and “they” can suggest superiority; they distance the recipient. Saying, “We plié with the ankles first, then open the hips,” comes across as fact, whether it’s accurate or not.

Start taking note of how many people speak in generalizations, which can instantly turn opinions into “truth” (like “Everybody’s doing it, Mom”). The same thing happens when you use absolute verbs (“is,” “are”) to pass judgment (“Ballet dancers are dumb” or “Men aren’t flexible”). “They say” is a prime example of unsubstantiated authority (who are “they”?), as are unqualified percentages (10 percent of people think/do whatever) and the popular “Studies show [insert desired ‘fact’].” A simple “What do you mean?” can counter such empty statements.

Negative statements can be tough to counter. Try responding with a “why” question when someone says, “It won’t work,” or “I can’t do it.” But use one that rephrases the question in a positive way. Responses like “Why do you say it won’t work?” or “Why do you say you can’t do it?” suggest that a positive outcome is possible.

Although this kind of response allows negative people to be heard, they might not want to give more information. Ellison advocates allowing them to refuse to respond. Think about your own experiences. Coercing information out of someone can feel like theft or a violation.

Statements as predictions
Statements can become predictions, which hypothesize about a potential outcome. Parents often use predictions with their children; for example, “If you don’t stop by the time I count to three, you won’t get dessert.” However, beware the fake warning. Nothing undermines your authority like making a prediction you won’t carry out. If those parents give their children dessert even though the undesirable behavior continues, they lose credibility as authority figures. Even small children know the score on that one.

According to Ellison, predictions can be protective, foretelling, or neutral. They are protective when you give cautionary instructions, such as telling students to sew their elastics on their shoes (because using safety pins or staples would be harmful). Foretelling can be judgmental, as in “If you wear that, you’ll be on the worst-dressed list.” The best choice is a neutral prediction.

Being neutral means predicting only how you will respond to the potential choices the other person could make. You will offer two alternatives and you must clarify each choice in order to avoid having people make assumptions. For instance, if you tell a hysterical parent, “If you continue shouting at me, I will have to walk away,” and you stop there, the parent could assume that the conversation is over and there can be no positive resolution. However, adding an alternative, such as “If you stop shouting, then I will do my best to listen and find a solution,” offers a chance of a win–win resolution.

Accountability
Acknowledging your own verbal accountability—for how your words come out and how they’re received—is important in maintaining a non-defensive posture, even if the person you’re in conflict with refuses to do so. Remember that excellence is born in doing the right thing. And doing the right thing doesn’t necessarily mean it will feel good in the short term.

It will take practice to remain neutral in your questions, statements, and predictions. Start to notice your interactions, and then take your cue from Gandhi and take a non-defensive stance.

I have faith in you.

 by Rhee Gold

There are many ways to measure success in the dance education field. Some people might see a degree in dance as true success. For others, it might be owning a school with 500 students or training many dancers who move on to professional careers. Still others measure it by the awards their students have won at competitions. For many teachers and school owners, success isn’t about the business; instead, it’s completely personal, like having a well-balanced dance and family life.

When you see people whom you perceive to be successful, are you intrigued by how they managed to pull it off? Are you anxious to learn from their example? Do you admire their ability to focus and make their dreams come true? Or do you envy their success? Do you tell yourself that they are where they are because they know someone or somehow cheated their way to achieve what you perceive as success? Or maybe you simply believe that you are better and deserve to be where they are, and they don’t?

I can tell you that responding yes to the first three questions will move you closer to your own aspirations a lot more quickly than the last three, and this is why: Being intrigued means that you want to know more, and wanting to know more means that you will grow and learn from successful people because you are open to expanding your own horizons.

On the other hand, if you envy someone’s success or justify it with negative excuses, you are subliminally telling yourself that you won’t get there yourself because you don’t have the same circumstances. That mentality never gives you a chance to experience the inspiration that successful people have to offer.

You have the same blood, passion, and soul as any successful person. Those tools are inside each of us; however, if you don’t allow yourself to access them, then you can’t succeed.

While contemplating how you define your own success, consider that most successful people have made many sacrifices along their journey. For example, that school owner whom you envy because she has 800 students might spend seven days a week at her school to keep up with her responsibilities. Maybe she has no personal life and dreams of a day when she can spend time with her kids. Could it be that she would perceive you to be successful because you need to be at your school only a few days a week and you have time to spend with your family?

The gift of success comes in a different package for each of us. And that’s OK. Let all the negative thoughts and jealousies go by the wayside; instead, respect those who are in a different place than you are (at the moment). If they have something you believe you want, pull out your tools to get yourself there.

By Carol Crawford Smith

“Saturday in the park, I think it was the Fourth of July… People dancing, people laughing, a man selling ice cream.”

Every time I hear this 1972 hit by Chicago, I start dancing in my heart. Robert Lamm’s exhilarating lyrics speak of summer fun and togetherness. And apparently I am not the only one inspired to motion by “Saturday in the Park.” Last August at the 2009 DanceLife Teacher Conference in Orlando, Rennie Gold, twin brother of conference founder and Dance Studio Life magazine publisher Rhee Gold, showed his choreographed work to the song. The piece was superb merriment, playground fun shared by many. Watching the clip brought feelings of glee as child dancers of all levels paraded, skipped, pirouetted, and chased on cue amidst tumblers, jugglers, and an ice cream vendor with cart. It was as if the choreographer had sat in the park one Saturday afternoon and studied the exuberant movement of kids playing on swings and slides and tossing sand in a box. And then, after thorough study, he set playground moves and activities to the 4/4 rhythm.

The young can let loose and get lost in the joy of dance without thinking. Yet adults are more guarded; they self-censor the sense of freedom that’s needed to enjoy movement. More often than not, they need “permission” to do so under a label or guise tagged to a dance class, such as “Open Adult Ballet” or “Adult Jazz Tap Dancing.” But first they must venture through the studio door. So any teacher who yearns to bring the joy of dance to all who seek it needs to find ways to be extra innovative in drawing these students in.

I can picture it now, just like in the movie Hair, where longhaired hippies skip and trot up hills through fields of wildflowers.

If the park can inspire choreography, why can’t it inspire people to dance? Start planning now—summertime is perfect for such ventures. Outdoor performances on makeshift grass stages, accompanied by live percussion, can summon people within earshot to put down their sand buckets, halt the seesaw, strap the baby in the stroller, and check out what’s happening. The sound of music often draws people. So let them discover your performance.

After a short show, you could encourage the audience to dance along with you. I can picture it now, just like in the movie Hair, where longhaired hippies, clad in bell-bottoms and tie-dyed tops, skip and trot up hills through fields of wildflowers with streaming scarves flowing behind them. OK, so it’s highly doubtful that such a scene would take place—but what will most likely occur is that a handful of observers will brave the moves while the rest of the crowd watches with enthusiasm (and maybe desire). And out of the entire bunch may appear a handful of new students eager to take class themselves or enroll their children. If you don’t have a drum and somebody to play one, use a boom box and offer an easy follow-along class after the formal dance presentation. I have seen this happen successfully, and it works well for drumming up (pun intended) interest in a formal study of dance.

A desire to dance can also come at a time least expected. Take, for example, the young mother who—day after day, week after week, month after month, and year after year—has sat vigilant at the studio door, watching her child delight in dance. And suddenly she decides it is her turn to put on her dancing shoes again, or perhaps for the first time. A woman did just that one summer evening at my studio. She disappeared into the dressing room and came out wearing a leotard and tights found in her daughter’s dance bag and ballet slippers from the lost and found. It had been a couple of decades since she’d taken a class, yet she still had the figure of a dancer. She stepped into the studio and joined her surprised daughter at the barre. The woman’s younger daughter watched in awe and amazement from the lobby seat she usually shared with her mother. Wide-eyed and teachable, the mom did quite well—and more important, she had fun in what seemed to be her personal “Saturday in the Park” moment. Her brave act was as delicious as a cool, sweet, ice cream treat on a summer’s day.

Comments? Questions? Write to Carol Crawford Smith at carol.thecenterofdance@gmail.com.

By Cheryl Ossola and David Favrot

Art Marketing
Call it a sign of the times, a response to the sorry state of the economy. But I’ve noticed some marketing methods and “value-added” efforts by major ballet companies that boost their own visibility and image while promoting creativity in others.

I’m talking about companies’ community-oriented efforts during their Nutcracker runs: San Francisco Ballet’s “Magical Memories Nutcracker Video Contest” (make a short video “that reenacts or re-imagines a scene or a favorite magical memory from Nutcracker”) and Pacific Northwest Ballet’s call for choral groups to perform in the lobby before performances. PNB has had professional singers perform in previous years, but this year, to save money, it asked for volunteers. In a similar vein, Cincinnati Ballet had young violinists playing in the lobby pre-Nutcracker. These ideas are smart because they’re fun, they hit us where it matters most—in our hearts—and they inspire creativity, which seems fitting for arts organizations.

I wasn’t in the lobby in Seattle or Cincinnati to hear those community choral groups sing and the pint-sized violinists play, but I can tell you that hearing them would have made going to Nutcracker that much more memorable. Sure, I like the idea of engaging professional singers and musicians—they need to stay afloat too—but think of all the youngsters who saw kids just like themselves singing and playing at such a big-deal event. If they’re not destined to be dancers, they just might think about adding music to their lives.

Since it was online, I had full access to SFB’s contest. With few exceptions, the videos proved the depth of our emotional connection to this American ballet tradition. Most were funny, quirky, or sentimental, and their creators showed talents that have nothing to do with dance: developing a concept, writing a script, designing a set or costumes, and figuring out how to bring their ideas to life, real or animated, on the small screen.
I hope these companies achieved what they set out to with these ventures and I’d like to see this trend continue, regardless of the state of the economy. Whether you find fulfillment in music, making videos, or dancing, it’s all good. It’s all art, and we need more of it in our world. —Cheryl Ossola, Editor in Chief

Now You See It, Now You Don’t
She isn’t much to look at on YouTube: a stout, middle-aged woman, dressed in what look like the living-room draperies. Arms outstretched, she waltzes back and forth in front of a row of formal, impassive men for a few seconds. Still, this snippet of grainy, silent, black-and-white film, shot outdoors near Moscow in 1921, is the only surviving dance footage of Isadora Duncan: breaker of taboos, proponent of socialism and sexual liberation, and—for lovers of modern dance—the Mother of Us All.

Of course, we should be grateful even for this morsel. Photographer Edward Steichen recalled that Duncan “didn’t want her dancing recorded in motion pictures but would rather have it remembered as a legend,” and she got her wish. But one can’t help thinking of more recent dance figures whose documentary record falls far short of the ideal.

Take Merce Cunningham, for example. He was creating new work right up to the end of his life last year at age 90, but how much is readily accessible to the curious? (I’m singling him out because I’m a fan, but the video shelves aren’t overloaded with Paul Taylor or Pina Bausch, either.) Search for Cunningham on Amazon, and you find this: Two documentaries by Elliot Caplan, Cage/Cunningham (1991) and Points in Space (1986), and Charles Atlas’ Merce Cunningham—A Lifetime of Dance (2000), as well as two instructional DVDs on Cunningham technique. There’s also a DVD of Cunningham’s Split Sides (2003), though the scores by rock critical faves Radiohead and Sigur Ros may play a role in its preservation, and Caplan’s Merce Cunningham Collection, Volume 1, a set of three works. Atlas’ DVD of BIPED (one of Cunningham’s most acclaimed later works, from 1999) has been discontinued for the U.S. market; I have a French copy in the PAL video format that I can play only on my MacBook.

And that’s about it. The Cunningham Dance Foundation has announced an ambitious plan to preserve his choreographic legacy, but in the meantime, what we have is a paltry representation of six decades of creativity from one of the last century’s most acclaimed dancemakers. Merce Cunningham, those who loved his work, and those who might learn to love it if they could only see it deserve better. —David Favrot, Associate Editor

By Nina Koch

As a dance teacher, I know it is hard to find balance between creative play and structure in toddler or preschool classes. I also know that when young dancers are challenged they will stay engaged, interested, and excited to come back to class every week. And when you have high expectations for these children, they will meet or exceed those expectations if they are given the tools to do so. And when you do, you end up with students who are ready to enter a program in which they are expected to advance every year.

At my studio, East County Performing Arts Center in Brentwood, California, I take children at 2 years old. Not many dance studios will take dancers that young. But I know that even these youngsters will thrive in a class with a consistent, structured format. Of course, the biggest challenge with 2-year-olds is getting them comfortable enough to leave their moms; when they reach that point, they are ready to be in a structured program.

Last season I was working with my 3- to 5-year-old students with the goal of making them into great listeners. On the first day I sat down with them and talked about the rules of class: Eyes on Miss Nina; be nice to your friends; be a good listener; after your shoes are on, line up with your toes on the line. On the second day I walked into the dance room and all eight of them were standing in first position with their toes on the line.

Now, I am not a “mean” teacher. I am loving and fun and silly—but I’m also firm and the kids know I mean business. So how do I create this environment of cooperation and attentiveness?

First, I am clear about my expectations with the parents and children. Not taking the time to explain the class rules and expectations is a big mistake. Children can follow rules only if they know what the rules are. Even those as young as 2 or 3 are capable of knowing what’s expected of them, and I can tell that they feel proud when I praise them for meeting those expectations.

And I don’t underestimate their capacity for learning. At my studio we start teaching proper technique and terminology right away, to 2-year-olds. As a result, all of my 4-year-old students know the basic ballet positions and their correct terms. If you dropped in on my “babies” classes, you’d hear common terms and phrases like arms en bas, à la seconde, tendu en croix. And you’d see them approximate basic movements like plié, tendu, bourrée, sauté, glissade, and jeté. And yes, they know those terms too.

I am introducing values that will help these children grow into adults who do not accept mediocrity in their lives or in themselves.

If you use correct terminology and engage children with questions like “Who can show me arms en bas?” or “Who remembers how to do a sauté?” and reward them when they answer correctly, they will learn it. And they will love learning it.

Why is it important to put so much energy into toddler and preschool dance classes? Of course we all want to grow great dancers; we feel fulfilled when our competition teams win top honors or when a graduating dancer gets accepted to a college dance program or hired for a great dance job. But my reasons for putting so much energy into my “babies” program are bigger than that.

Children, especially young girls, need to be encouraged to be smart, encouraged to advance past mediocrity. These early lessons in dance class are not necessarily intended to develop them into prima ballerinas; they are life lessons. Along with dance basics, I am teaching them how to be good listeners, be respectful, connect with another person, and rise to challenges. I am teaching them self-respect and self-excellence. I am introducing values that will help these children grow into adults who do not accept mediocrity in their lives or in themselves. Those lessons need to start very early on, and those values will help these children change the world.

The next time you are preparing for a toddler or preschool class, ask yourself if you are just going through the motions because it’s a “no-brainer.” Or are you making the effort to challenge these young minds, trying to make a difference in their education? Through dance, we can start building a foundation for a positive life education.

Words from our readers

More readers respond to “Dance Studio Lingo” by Diane Gudat, DSL, August 2009:

Here are a few we use at our studio:

Prostatot: 3-year-olds costumed in thigh-high fishnets, short-shorts, and crop tops and shake their butts to inappropriate hip-hop songs at competitions

Cha-no-no or cha-ne-ne (nay nay) turns: chaînés done in second position, or without spotting, or moving both arms at the same time
Denise Danzo
Danza Dance Academy
Castle Rock, CO

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Pas de bour prep: pas de bourrée that ends in fourth position pirouette preparation

Pas de bourr-no: a pas de bourrée where the dancers cross back, step open, and then cross front instead of sus-sous (fifth), second, sus-sous (fifth)

Extreme piqué: any piqué move where the dancer is as high in relevé as physically possible and on the straightest leg possible
Toni-Lynn Miles
Middlesex Dance Center
Durham, CT

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Devil-oppé: a painful extension of the leg
Atti-besque: an arabesque than never quite straightens
Pas de canard: step of the duck (a pas de chat done with flat feet)
Barbecued ribs: a protruding ribcage (courtesy of teacher Richard Munro)
Hula hips: an inadvertent circling of the hips in rond de jambe

I really enjoyed the whole list of terms—very amusing!

Name withheld by request

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Thank you for the article on Luigi. It was wonderful to see that Luigi and his professional students live by his motto of “Never stop moving.” It seems that most articles on Luigi reflect his life in the past. It was nice to see his life reflect what is happening now, because he really “never stops moving.”
Alisoun Price
Assistant to the Assistant Artistic Director|
Luigi’s Jazz Dance
New York, NY

We’d love to hear from you!
Send your comments to arisa@rheegold.com or mail them to Editor, Dance Studio Life, 10 South Washington St., Norton, MA 02766. Letters may be printed in the magazine and posted on dancestudiolife.com.

Owner/teacher, Viki Parkes Stars of Tomorrow, Port Charlotte, FL

NOMINATED BY: Jean Mercado, Donna Burbidge, and Sara Bacher, students’ mothers: Paula is a “people person” who works to maintain an excellent business atmosphere while encouraging creativity in her parents, student assistants, and staff. Paula’s favorite saying is: “ ‘Can’t’ means ‘Won’t try!’ ” Patience and vision make her a great teacher, and she is always staying current with trends in the field and continuing her own dance and theater education.

AGES TAUGHT: 2 through seniors.

GENRES TAUGHT: Tap, ballet, jazz, musical theater.

TEACHING DANCE FOR: 35 years.

WHY SHE TEACHES: Passion, experience, and just a great rapport with people—I love watching students finally get it! I was inspired by this studio’s philosophy, which emphasized training and performing more than competition. I worked here first for seven years and then purchased the studio.

GREATEST INSPIRATION: My teachers, Orest Siergievesky and Constance Moore. I studied with Orest in New York and he was a wonderful mentor in both dance and business—he taught me a lot of Russian history as well. Miss Connie founded the Children’s Theater workshops in Milford, Connecticut. She was my second mom and provided many opportunities for me to study with some wonderful teachers—Tom Kelly, Paul Draper, Gregory Hines, and John Bubbles, just to name a few—and acting and voice classes too. She never discouraged, but she did let her students know how much goes into a career in dance and performing, and I try to do the same.

PHILOSOPHY OF TEACHING: Anyone can learn to dance and appreciate the art form if they have the drive to do so. Dance should be part of everyone’s life—even if only at the audience level—and be available to all no matter what their financial situation.

WHAT MAKES HER A GOOD TEACHER: Flexibility, experience, passion, and training. Also, tuning in to students with empathy, not sympathy, tempered with a whole lot of caring about them. Most of all, there’s the “if it’s not enjoyable, why do it?” fun factor!

FONDEST TEACHING MEMORY: My students with disabilities who have succeeded beyond all boundaries! Students who take their dance training and dance friendships into their future lives are the best memories for me. I am now teaching their children and grandchildren, and the beat goes on.

BEST PIECE OF ADVICE FOR STUDENTS AND/OR TEACHERS: If you don’t really love teaching and aren’t staying up to date—especially with what is happening in your students’ world—do something else. This profession requires dedication and a lot of your time to do the job correctly.

WHAT SHE WOULD DO IF SHE COULDN’T TEACH DANCE: Spend a lot of time helping children with disabilities and seniors. Also, I’d make films, direct plays, and travel more.

MORE THOUGHTS ON DANCE AND TEACHING: I am continually amazed at things my students have accomplished and become because of their dance training. Most still keep in touch. I am in awe of the great teachers and masters of the past and present and try to pass along their knowledge. One of the reasons I kept Viki Parkes’ name on the studio was that she and her daughter, Molly Parkes, worked very hard to build an excellent reputation. They performed all over the area, from nursing homes to community theater. I wanted to honor their work and commitment.

DO YOU KNOW A DANCE TEACHER WHO DESERVES TO BE IN THE SPOTLIGHT? Email your nominations to David@rheegold.com or mail them to David Favrot, Dance Studio Life, 10 South Washington St., Norton, MA 02766. Please include why you think this teacher should be featured, along with his or her contact information.

Collaboration means education for university dance and theater students

By Alyssa Schoeneman

The hip-hop movement can be viewed as one of social and cultural integration, as the ascension of a minority group into the mainstream of society. The University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign (UIUC) recognizes the importance of such integration in “Hip-Hop Project: Insight Into the Hip-Hop Generation,” a collaborative project of its theater and dance departments.

Written by Penn State faculty member Steve Broadnax and directed by UIUC Department of Theatre alumnus Aaron Todd Douglas, this hip-hop celebration presents a deejay, dancers, poets, graffiti artists, and emcee B-Boy All Star as they speak their minds on sex, death, art, politics, fashion, and respect. (The show has been presented twice before, including at the Kennedy Center American College Theater Festival in Washington, DC, with the name Word Up!) Choreographer Millicent Johnnie, former rehearsal director of Urban Bush Women, lends her distinct fusion of hip-hop and capoeira to the project. The cast features UIUC acting and dance majors, as well as lyricists, b-boys, deejays, and salsa dancers from the campus community.

The broad casting pool allowed Douglas and Johnnie to include dancers with interest and experience in dance forms that fall outside of the Eurocentric techniques commonly offered by university dance departments. These dancers’ contributions “brought additional texture and depth to the work,” says Douglas. “[They helped us to] acknowledge the Latin influences on the birth of hip-hop culture and on b-boy forms in general, an influence that is often overlooked.”

The script calls for dance sequences with distinct regional flavors such as the “Dirty South,” the Midwest, the East Coast, and Jamaican. Johnnie drew from her background in Louisiana as she integrated Southern hip-hop culture into the show.

Stylistic challenges
Johnnie introduced different styles of hip-hop by explaining their geographic origins and by showing the dancers related videos online, working to dispel the commercially shaped notion of hip-hop as a hypersexual art. “It’s more of a celebration of being able to give life than it is of being sexual,” says UIUC dance major Katherine Roarty.

Johnnie notes that the dancers were initially intimidated by her unfamiliar movement vocabulary and that five days of peeling away layers allowed the dancers to move away from their studio dance hip-hop backgrounds. “What you learn in the studio is different from what you learn on the street,” says Johnnie. “We had to teach them not to just imitate me but rather to have a truly authentic experience of the movement.”

UIUC dance major Leila Henry notes that Johnnie was less worried about arm placement and shapes in her choreography; ultimately, she was concerned with the essence and integrity of the movement. Johnnie used the phrase “embracing the genitalia” to inspire a sense of weight and groundedness in the dancers, and to drive home the idea of celebrating maternity.

Though the choreography was set primarily on the dance majors, the acting ensemble learned its fair share of movement for the performance. Johnnie approached the actors with a willingness to adapt choreography and to break down movement to a level that they could understand. “Most choreographers don’t do that,” says Jonathan Butler-Duplessis, a UIUC acting major. “They just come in at a level and say, ‘Meet it or get out of my show.’ ”

“What you learn in the studio is different from what you learn on the street. We had to teach [the dancers] not to just imitate me but rather to have a truly authentic experience of the movement.” —choreographer Millicent Johnnie

Many of the actors initially felt silly and out of place during the dance sequences, but they soon realized that Johnnie’s high expectations for them were both realistic and achievable. “We don’t use our bodies like dancers do, but we should be able to because it helps so much with our acting,” says ensemble member Anastasia Pappageorge of herself and her fellow actors. “All of these dancing days have helped all of us more than we already know.”

The collaboration has proven beneficial for all involved. “It is great because [the actors and the dancers] get to experience each other in their elements, and they get to see each other’s strengths and build on that,” Johnnie says. “The cast is so supportive of one another and nurturing. It is really beautiful.”

Roarty says that working with the actors influenced her pursuit of stylistic authenticity; the level of integrity with which the actors portrayed different characters raised the bar for her as she worked on unfamiliar styles of dance. Similarly, Butler-Duplessis, a self-diagnosed dancer “with three left feet,” has found the dancers’ presence in rehearsal to be invaluable. “We have the trickle-down effect. Millicent teaches the choreography to the dancers and they help the better dancers of the actors, and then those actors teach me,” he says, laughing. “It has been one big family of just helping those who might know less than you.”

One happy family
The familial element of rehearsal was enhanced by Johnnie’s ritual of a daily check-in and checkout. Forming a circle at the beginning and end of every rehearsal day, each person in the cast described how he or she was feeling at that moment, adding positive energy to the circle. Though the process acknowledges individual gripes and challenges, it holds that a positive note must always be addressed; projecting a negative attitude into the circle may prove toxic to others’ work.

Johnnie gleaned the check-in process from an organization of activists and artists called Alternate Roots, and she says the process centers on the “Each One Teach One” philosophy. It recognizes that values and ideals are shared across cultures and allows all involved in it to learn something. “It’s kind of like punching a time clock,” Douglas says of the cast’s ritual. “We’re agreeing to devote all of our energy and concentration to the task at hand and then assessing what we think we’ve accomplished at the end of the night.”

Actors have a similar check-in/checkout process, but it usually amounts to a sort of community prayer before performances. Butler-Duplessis and Pappageorge agree that the process let them get to know their fellow cast members and quickly built a family feeling among them.

The dance world is full of community-driven learning experiences that could benefit from such a process. Reserving time at the beginning and end of technique classes or rehearsals provides a valuable opportunity for synthesis and feedback about both the creative and the learning processes. Checking in and out allows students and company members to feel like participants in the process and helps to draw out feedback that might otherwise be suppressed. Also, the stronger emotional relationships often fostered by the group discussions can enhance onstage interaction.

Authenticity and innovation
The show’s topical subject matter placed an emphasis on authenticity in performance; hip-hop culture carries with it an array of social, political, and artistic implications. “Since we’re not doing a play about people in a faraway land at a faraway time, we have to keep it current,” says Butler-Duplessis. “We can’t be playing at it. We have to be experiencing it.”

The project worked to break down preconceived notions of hip-hop and bring a new audience into the proscenium theater. To raise awareness about the project, a street team of actors, rappers, and dancers took part in an “art burst” or “flash mob” on UIUC’s main quad, where the artists freestyled and passed out flyers advertising the performance.

Douglas and Johnnie hope that the show will increase audience awareness of the social injustice issues presented; a major goal of the project was to inspire a growth of academic scholarship and theory research surrounding hip-hop culture.

“The actors and the dancers have a lot of heart,” says Johnnie. “When you walk into a performance space and you see that kind of heart, it makes you want to do something, whether it’s making your own work, having a conversation about it, volunteering, or supporting someone else’s work. Maybe [the audience] will even say, ‘I had no idea hip-hop is more than So You Think You Can Dance and America’s Best Dance Crew.’ ”

Hip-hop presents the good and the bad, the profane and the poetic, the righteous and the superficial. “I think [hip-hop] is an accurate reflection of society,” Douglas says, “of what goes on in the streets as well as in the boardrooms.”

At its best, hip-hop culture embraces poetry, music, dance, and the spoken word—elements celebrated in institutions of higher learning as well. By these criteria, hip-hop is an underrepresented fine art in many schools. “I don’t think there are many things in this type of programming in university theater and dance,” says Douglas. “I think it is considered bold programming, but it shouldn’t be.”

Growing as dancers and gaining independence in summer ballet programs

By McKenna Karnes and Melanie Eccles

Life at Lincoln Center
I never imagined myself going away at age 13 to New York City for five weeks without my parents. When I auditioned for the 2009 summer course at the School of American Ballet, I thought it would just be a good experience to audition; I never thought I would get in. Last spring was the first time I considered going away for ballet summer studies. I remember telling my mom, “There’s no way I’m going away from home for more than two or three weeks my first year.” But when I made it into SAB, I changed my mind. I knew what a great honor it was to be asked to study there and I couldn’t pass up an opportunity that might not come again.

I was lucky enough that five other girls from my studio, Chamberlain School of Performing Arts, in Plano, Texas, were going to SAB, four who had been before. It’s always helpful to know someone your first year so you’re never alone. When we first signed in I was nervous about being without my parents for so long, but I knew it would be so much fun.

When my mom, my roommate, and I walked into the dorm, I was shocked. I never realized how tiny dorm rooms are. My roommate and I each had a top bunk with a desk underneath and about four feet in between, a very small closet, and a few drawers, so everything was pretty cramped. But we were living on the Juilliard floors, above SAB, so we got to have a suite, which has a common area where you can hang out and escape the tiny dorm rooms. My suite had three bathrooms and two showers, but everything always needed to be fixed. It was interesting when seven teenage girls and an RA (resident advisor) all had to share one bathroom. I was surprised at how quickly I adjusted to the living spaces and felt right at home. When I returned to Plano, my room felt so big and clean; but surprisingly, I felt homesick for SAB. I really loved being there and I missed the always-exciting lifestyle.

I’m quite the homebody, but five weeks went by so fast. The hardest part was saying goodbye to my mom. I emailed my parents and talked to them every day, so I never felt really far away from them or sad. I had pictures of all my friends, family, and pets on my desk. I missed my mom and dad, but I was having so much fun that I didn’t always think about them.

On the first day of classes I was nervous to see the level of the other girls, since I had never met any of them. After only a few days, I got to know all of them and classes were much more relaxed. I loved having new teachers that saw things that my teachers at home might not have seen. All of them had different points of view and style preferences. The schedule wasn’t too intense: no more than four hours Monday through Friday and only one hour on Saturdays. At home, I have 3 hours of dance per night plus homework and school, so adjusting to SAB’s schedule wasn’t difficult.

What was really amazing was having teachers who knew and took classes from George Balanchine. I have been studying Balanchine style all of my life, but these teachers had words of wisdom directly from Balanchine himself. The classes—character, ballet, pointe, Pilates, and variations—were extremely beneficial. They weren’t particularly challenging as far as steps and choreography, but the teachers pulled as much as possible out of every little step. They wanted the simple things to be perfect before moving on. I guess you could say they wanted quality, not quantity.

I really think my teachers made me more precise with pointe work, improved my turnout, and helped me to gather strength in my arms. It was great to dance next to such talented young girls and try to match myself to their standards. Sometimes I would watch the older girls in the higher levels and that would really inspire me to work even harder.

One of the coolest parts about being at Lincoln Center was that New York City Ballet trains in the same building. I would be in the elevator and Wendy Whelan, Janie Taylor, or Robert Fairchild could be standing right next to me! Seeing NYCB dancers was so inspiring; they are all so talented.

I think I gained a lot of independence through living in New York City for five weeks. We had neighborhood boundaries, but everything we could possibly need was there. I could go shopping in Columbus Circle whenever I wanted to. I always went with two or more people, but we could pretty much do everything without an adult.

I did realize how fast money is spent when I didn’t have my mom to pay for things. This was especially evident in New York, where everything is twice the price as in Texas. It was interesting to have to be self-motivated to clean our room or do the laundry instead of having my mom tell me to do it every time. After I got home, it felt odd to have parents telling me what to do. I missed the independence I had at SAB.

Overall, going away for summer studies was a great experience and I wouldn’t change a thing. I am hoping to be accepted into the program again next summer and improve even more. —McKenna Karnes

Boston Bound
Going to Boston Ballet’s summer dance program in 2008, at age 13, was exciting but nerve-wracking at the same time. I knew I was going to make some great friends over the next five weeks, but a part of me was a little worried.

It didn’t help that I was intimidated by the thought of the amazing dancers I expected to encounter. I was also curious about boarding. Was my roommate going to be nice? Was living on my own going to be hard? And I wondered if I was going to become sick of ballet before the end of the program. (I come from a versatile studio, Melissa Hoffman Dance Center in Hudson, New Hampshire, and study a variety of styles.) Only a few days later I realized I had nothing to worry about.

For a lot of people, going to a five-week camp away from their parents might be frightening. I love my parents very much, but I was already an independent person, which made missing my parents less of a concern. Besides, they were only a phone call away and I was also able to visit them on a few weekends.

As independent as I already was, I came out of the camp even more prepared for living on my own. I learned how to take care of myself and stay organized, which gave me a taste of the reality of going away to college. It wasn’t as hard as I thought, either, because I had my new friends and counselors there to help along the way.

I was lucky enough to get a sweet, outgoing roommate. It’s also important to take a roommate you don’t get along with as a learning experience, since there are always going to be people you have to work with who may not be the most enjoyable people to be around. And you’re not with your roommate 24/7 unless you choose to be.

Still, I had to deal daily with girls whose personalities didn’t mix very well with mine. So I just had to try to stick with the people I enjoyed spending time with. When you’re surrounded by people who share an interest, it’s easy to start a conversation and relate; therefore making friends is simpler than it seems. I had to be myself and open up my personality, and those friends seemed to find me.

Not letting all those amazing dancers intimidate me was hard at first, but I soon realized that no matter how advanced, they are no different from myself. Everyone comes to the program wanting to improve, no matter how flawless their technique is. Instead of being discouraged, I watched the dancers and learned from them. I realized that there will always be people at a higher level than I am, but I also found that a lot of them were about at my level. In the end, it shouldn’t matter whether I’m the worst, or the best; I’m there for myself, to reach my goal, not to impress anyone else.

Going to Boston Ballet exposed me to a whole new world. First, they educated me about the life of company dancers and showed me what opportunities there are for people like me, who are possibly looking to keep dance in our future. I learned about ballets themselves, what it takes to be in a ballet, and even what it takes to be in a company like Boston Ballet.

Second, the dancers I met, from all over the country, taught me a lot about the ways of their dance life. There was even a sweet girl from Japan who barely spoke English (how exciting!). I learned that there are many ways to run dance schools and be exposed to the art of dance. I could take something new from every teacher, whether it was a completely new style or a way of looking at what I was doing with my body. Different teachers explain functions in different ways. Hearing about technique from a variety of people helped me understand it even better.

Practicing ballet over the summer helped me improve, and I was almost given a different mind-set about how to work my body and technique. Though the training was intense, they gave us good breaks and plenty of free time in the evening, so it was easy to energize and adjust. After five weeks of taking class and concentrating on my technique, I came out loving ballet even more. I couldn’t get enough. Becoming tired of ballet was out of the question from that point on.

Everything I learned at Boston Ballet I will be able to take with me the rest of my life, whether it’s technique, work ethics, social interaction, or taking care of myself. Being there was a totally positive experience, but I had to make that happen. I was always taught that whatever you put into a situation, you’ll get that much back. I wouldn’t have improved if I hadn’t worked hard. I wouldn’t have learned about the variety of dance instruction if I hadn’t listened. And I wouldn’t have had this amazing experience if I had let my concerns stop me from going. I pushed through them and got so much out of it.

In the end, I had a blast. —Melanie Eccles

Part 2 of our serialized saga of dance-school drama and intrigue

By Julie Holt Lucia

The last time we met studio owner Dolly Drummersing, she had just heard the news that an irate ex-customer, Winifred Beauregard, was planning to open a new dance school across the street. And as it turns out, Winifred’s business partner is Carlotta, the wife of Dolly’s dance-dad janitor, Sal—and to make matters even worse, it looks as though one of Dolly’s teachers, Marta, is being recruited for the new school. We resume our story just a few days later . . .

“Pepper!” Dolly said in the middle of her Ballet Class of Misfit Tweens. She could tell the girl was daydreaming again. “Un-bite your lip, please. Stop fidgeting! Let’s focus instead on stretching your leg and lifting from your sternum!”

She watched as 12-year-old Pepper Ruby gripped the barre with one sweaty hand and reached the other far in front of her face, in second arabesque. The girl glanced in the mirror at her crooked, turned-in arabesque and bit her lip in a show of concentration. Her curly, dirty-blond hair floated out of its bun in crimps and pleats around her face, and she swatted at the hairs.

Dolly knew what Pepper was thinking. She’d been that girl herself, the girl who wanted to be beautiful and knew—but couldn’t explain how—that ballet class was the way to do it. Now Pepper was discovering that ballet wasn’t as easy as it appeared. Dolly sighed and turned to Mira, whose arabesque leg she had captured. Mira’s eyes were squeezed shut, probably from the intense pinching in her back.

It was in this particular class, often while working one-on-one with the dancers, that Dolly always kicked herself for forgetting to tell the girls to wear deodorant. By the time the class made it to reverence, she felt like she was swimming in a bowl of freshly chopped onions. Some days, like today, her eyes actually watered. Nevertheless, this class was usually her most enjoyable since it included some of the hardest-working dancers at Dolly’s Dance Academy. Mindful of this, Dolly always tried to check for smiles at the end of class.

“Are you all right, Pepper?” she called out as the class port de bras–ed.

“Oh, um.” Pepper lost her balance as if startled from a trance but recovered quickly. “Yes! Yes, I’m fine.”

“OK, then. Let me see your beautiful smile!”

After curtsies and applause, the dancers noisily filed out of class, headed toward the dressing room, with Pepper trailing the others and singing softly, “Rain-bow Grot-to elllllfkins, oh!”

Dolly followed the girls, gulping in the stale-yet-fresher air in the lobby and fanning herself with a ballet CD. The studio was nearly empty of customers, with only a few of the Misfit Tweens’ parents waiting for the end of class and the teachers wrapping up in the office with Kim, her office manager.

A sudden scream from the dressing room froze everyone in place. Dolly felt her blood pressure shoot up, her heartbeat thudding in her ears. A minute might have passed. Or maybe it was only a few seconds.

Going into panic mode, Dolly threw her arms out wide. “Nobody move,” she said, her eyes scanning the girls. “Let me investigate.”

Feeling all eyes on her, she headed there as if she were demonstrating a slow-motion chassé. Opening the door, she walked past the benches and cubbies and froze at the sight of a capsized Nikki Farr, one of her most popular teachers, hunched in the corner near the out-of-order bathroom stall. Her heart beating even faster, Dolly grabbed Nikki by the shoulders and shook her.

Nikki’s eyes rolled open. “The . . . smell . . .” she whispered.

Dolly felt a wave of foul air hit her face. A pair of pink tights lay wadded up in the sink. She pulled her shirt over her nose and mouth to block the hideous stench. It was definitely coming from the tights. Even the fluorescent lights seemed to dim and flicker in protest. She plucked the offending pink tights from the sink and turned to Nikki. “You OK?”

Nikki nodded feebly. “So . . . gross . . .”

Gross indeed, Dolly thought, a grim look on her face. What in the world had happened to those poor tights? she wondered as she wrapped them in three plastic grocery bags. Who would have done such a thing—and why?

After helping Nikki into the lobby, Dolly gathered the waiting parents, students, and teachers. “We would appreciate it very much,” she said, making eye contact with each person, “if you would tell us if you know anything about this incident. Anyone?” She shook the grocery-bag-wrapped tights as evidence, half expecting the plastic to melt from the fumes.

Nobody said anything. The dancers shifted their feet and looked at one another. The parents glanced at their watches.

“Well,” Dolly continued, “if this is for real, then everyone, please wash your tights. If this is a prank, then it is not funny. Ms. Nikki almost fainted and that is no joke.”

Nikki whimpered obligingly and slumped against the wall.

Dolly continued. “One way or another, we’re going to figure out what happened here. I want you here 10 minutes early to class next Thursday unless someone confesses to me sooner. All right, girls? This is clearly unacceptable.”

The group nodded solemnly while the parents continued to sigh and glance at the clock, and Dolly watched the girls file into the dressing room. Pepper, as usual, seemed to be only half-listening, mumbling something about a Rainbow Grotto and elfkins. And, if Dolly didn’t need to have her hearing checked, pet flying squirrels. She shook her head.

After the students and their parents had left, Dolly herded Nikki, Kim, Marta, and April into the office for a quick interrogation. “Can any of you recall suspicious activity in the dressing room today? Or recently?” Dolly paced the short length of the office. “Any sibling high-jinks or embarrassed dancers that you remember?”

The women shook their heads.

“Maybe it was a fake, planted there just to distract everyone,” Marta suggested.

“It was pretty bad—and not very funny,” Nikki said. Some color had returned to her cheeks and she looked angry now. “Marta’s right; there’s no way those tights were for real. There was something really odd about that smell. Plus, we would have noticed before now. I mean, come on—tights in the sink?”

“I check the dressing room every couple of hours,” Kim said. “And I don’t remember seeing—or smelling—anything unusual this afternoon. You know, besides sweaty feet and hairspray.”

Marta nodded. “And what if we blamed someone and it wasn’t their fault? How could we prove anything? I definitely think it was a prank.”

“You seem pretty sure now,” April said, glancing sideways at Marta.

Marta rolled her eyes. “Are you suggesting that I put them there, April? Really. Just because I’m the new girl doesn’t mean that I would—”

“OK!” Dolly interrupted. “OK. I didn’t mean we had to accuse anyone of anything. Just come to me if you think you know something, and we’ll talk about it again on Thursday. Let’s all get out of here and go home already.”

***

The following Thursday afternoon, at the stoplight at Main Street and Trinity Falls Road, Dolly adjusted her rearview mirror while Nikki, fidgeting in the passenger seat, watched her with narrowed eyes. Studying her reflection, Dolly ticked off her flaws. Frizzy hair beyond help? Check. Not enough makeup to pass for awake? Check. Nervous sweat beading on forehead, eyebrow, and upper lip? Check, check, and check.

She slid a pair of enormous sunglasses onto her nose and maneuvered her little silver Toyota, littered with CDs, jewel cases, and random notes on coffee-shop napkins, to the opposite side of Trinity Falls. Her curiosity could wait no longer.

“You know,” Nikki said in an unnaturally high voice, “it was really nice of you to give me a ride today, but, um, I didn’t realize we were going to spy on this new dance school.” She twisted in her seatbelt and turned to face Dolly. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Dolly sighed as she pulled into the parking lot, driving past the brand-new dry cleaners, the brand-new bank, and the brand-new nail salon. She didn’t answer right away. Then, sighing again, she said in a steely-but-calm voice, “I just want to see if it’s really true. I have no other objective but to turn this rumor into fact, or vice versa.”

She knew she was lying, and Nikki probably knew it too. But Dolly simply couldn’t stand not knowing the truth any longer—and she couldn’t ask Marta for more information. And she definitely couldn’t ask Sal. She was afraid to talk to Sal now; in fact, she was worried about his intentions as her night janitor. If the rumor was true.

Nikki reached for the door handle, but Dolly threw her arm across the seat, forcing Nikki back against the seat.

“No! Not yet,” she said. “We have to be better disguised.” She reached into the backseat and withdrew two truck driver hats, a puffy winter coat, and a red-and-black leather jacket. She tossed one of the hats and the jacket to Nikki.

“You can’t be serious!” Nikki hooted with laughter but pulled on the hat. “Did you get this jacket from the set of ‘Thriller’ or what?”

Dolly was too focused to reply. “Also, I need you to walk pigeon-toed and with a hunched back. If anyone sees us, we have to act like we’re not dance people.”

“You do realize that we have to be at the studio—your studio—in exactly five minutes, right?” Nikki asked, pointing to the car’s clock.

“Yes, yes,” Dolly hissed. “If you would please hurry with the jacket we could get out, get back here, and be right on time to open the studio.”

The two women emerged from the car and hobbled over to the seemingly empty storefront, where, just as Dolly suspected, a small sign was posted.

Winifred’s Winning Dance Acadamy—Coming Soon!

For information, please email awsomedancer@gypsymail.com.

A string of expletives left Dolly’s mouth before she could censor herself. Nausea washed over her like a bucket of ice water, and she swayed on the spot. It was true. She had known it would be, but this was solid proof. And that must mean it was true about Sal—Sal, who was now officially a mole.

Nikki waited a beat, looked at Dolly’s glassy eyes, and led her back to the car—carefully pigeon-toed and hunch-backed as requested.

Dolly drove in silence, going a few blocks out of her way in case anyone was watching, and jerked the car to a stop in front of her studio. “That witch can’t even spell!” she finally sputtered, ripping off her hat, sunglasses, and puffy coat.

“Which witch?” Nikki joked, offering a tentative smile. “Winifred or Carlotta?”

Dolly snorted.

“Come on, Dolly. You have to let this go before you become obsessive. And you know what? We have bigger fish to fry today: The stinky-tights culprit, remember?”

“I know.” Dolly pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. “You’re right, you’re totally right. This is stupid.” She shook her head, trying to forget about the sign and her school’s new competition.

That evening, Pepper and her mom, Roxanne, arrived early for Pepper’s ballet class and asked to meet with Dolly privately.

“What’s going on, Pepper?” Dolly asked lightly, once Kim had vacated the office. Dolly thought she knew what was coming next: Pepper—poor, stinky, distracted Pepper of the Misfit Tweens—was going to confess to owning those nasty tights, and her mom was going to blame Dolly for humiliating her daughter.

“I believe Pepper has something important to tell you, Ms. Dolly,” said Roxanne, giving Pepper a nod and a nudge. “Go on. You need to tell her.”

Pepper’s ears turned a bright red. Then she inhaled deeply and blasted out the words in one breath. “My mom said I have to tell you that those were my tights and they were so gross because I tried to dye them with colored milk to go with my Periwinkle Princess idea and it didn’t work and I didn’t know they would smell so bad and I’m really sorry.”

Dolly made eye contact with Roxanne while Pepper took another breath, apparently relieved at having unloaded this admission. Roxanne shrugged as if to say, “Kids—what can you do?”

 Dolly was confused. “Periwinkle Princess idea?”

“Um, yeah.” A huge grin spread across Pepper’s face. “The Periwinkle Princess has the finest leotard, tights, and tiara in all the land.”

 “Well, thank you, Pepper,” Dolly said. “But I’m still not sure I understand. Who is the Periwinkle Princess and why did you try to dye your tights with milk?”

Roxanne stroked her daughter’s hair. “She has this crazy fantasy life, Pepper does, where she is a Periwinkle Princess and she has these little invisible friends—what are they called, honey?” She nudged Pepper again.

“Mo-o-om!” Pepper looked away from Dolly and crossed her arms. “Please don’t embarrass me.”

“Oh, right—the elfkins!” Roxanne went on, oblivious to her daughter’s agony. “Well, anyway, Pepper has this world of make-believe that she lives in, called the Rainbow Grotto, and I guess she thought she’d try to bring it to life. And the first thing she wanted to do was make herself a princess outfit. Hence, the tights.”

Dolly was slowly starting to put the pieces together. That’s why Pepper was always so distracted—she has these daydreams. Now she had gone so far as to bring her daydreams to life. And yet . . .

“Pepper,” Dolly said, “who told you to dye your tights with milk?” She knew Pepper wouldn’t have thought of doing that on her own.

“I don’t remember exactly,” Pepper mumbled, staring at her feet. Roxanne gave her a Mom Look and Pepper scowled and continued. “I was early for class one night and some lady heard me talking to myself. So I told her about my Periwinkle Princess outfit and she said if I wanted to be like a professional ballerina, I should soak my tights in milk twice in three days, then add food coloring to dye them just the right shade of periwinkle.”

Dolly groaned. Here it comes, she thought. “Did this lady have chin-length dark hair, olive skin, and a nice smile? And a little girl, probably wearing pointe shoes about eight sizes too big?”

“Oh, yeah! I think she did,” Pepper said. “Why? Do you know her?”

Dolly nodded grimly. Did she ever. And this was war.

Tune in next month for more fun as the story continues . . .

Software that lets you dabble without dancers

By Gina McGalliard

Studio owners everywhere can relate to a common struggle: how to remember and record choreography. But Dance Designer, an innovative new multimedia computer program, seeks to help document every aspect of the choreographic process.

Dance Designer was developed by Sean Glen, an entertainment producer and resident of Orange County in California. The idea for it was born a few years ago when Glen’s wife, Carri Burbank, was asked by the producer of The Fabulous Palm Spring Follies to re-create a dance she had choreographed four years earlier.

“She was saying, ‘There’s got to be a better way to do this,’ ” says Glen, who is not a dancer but has worked with choreographers and dancers for years. “And being a producer, I said, ‘Why don’t you get the software?’ She said, ‘There isn’t anything like that.’ I said, ‘Well, I hire lighting designers; they’ve got software. Scenic designers have software. Composers have software. Everybody has software—how could that be?’ ”

Glen conducted an online search and found that while there was an abundance of software for the business end of running studios, there was nothing for the creative side of teaching. Seeing a niche, he created Dance Designer, which comes in basic and pro versions. His wife was his primary advisor, and the couple held several roundtable discussions with dance instructors, college professors, and choreographers from various areas of the dance industry, including industrials, television, and concert dance.

Licenses for the program, which runs on both Macs and PCs, are available at $240 for one year and $400 for two years for basic; for the pro version, those rates jump to $360 and $600, respectively. Tech support by phone or email is also provided free of charge by Curtis Anderson, former head of the sound department for live entertainment at Disneyland Resort and a former technical director at Buena Vista Pictures Distribution. Although it includes technology such as audio and video editing, the program (with video tutorials) is designed for easy use by studio owners who might not be computer savvy.

Upon starting a piece, choreographers first import their music, be it from a CD or downloaded from iTunes. They then click on “add counts,” which allows them to set choreography to specific counts in the music and call the counts whatever they wish. They can also work in a nonlinear fashion, working on any section of the dance they choose. Next, they select a stage from several templates, or create their own to their performance venue’s specifications using the stage wizard, and then add the number of dancers in the piece, naming them if they wish.

Next comes one of the program’s most exciting elements: ChoreoMotion, which allows the user to animate the paths dancers travel in. Choreographers can see in real time, synchronized to music, where the dancers will go, and they can save studio time by working out traffic jams or other issues beforehand. All they have to do is drag and drop each computerized dancer and hit the playback button. Dancers can also be grouped, which is ideal for numbers in which not everyone does the same steps. And the Choreo Cards feature helps the user keep track of those dancers, storing their contact and personal information and even their costume sizes.

Also, choreographers can choose from ballet, jazz, tap, modern, hip-hop, lyrical, figure skating, and cheer palettes, which include specific terms for the genre to use in writing notes. For instance, the ballet palette includes French terminology, while the tap palette includes steps such as shuffles, riffs, and stomps. Palettes can be combined, and users can customize their own with original terminology. Tap dancers are in for a treat: The TAPlayer will play back rhythms of selected tap steps, and up to three counter-rhythms can be created.

If choreographers are hitting a creative block, the formations library has several options available. In the pro version, video can also be added and synchronized with the music; it can even be recorded directly into the program.

Another useful tool is avatars, which come in generic, hip-hop, or ballet styles. Avatars can be given colors, allowing the user to see how costume color schemes would work onstage.

Choreographers can see in real time, synchronized to music, where the dancers will go, and they can save studio time by working out traffic jams or other issues beforehand.

The reports feature enables studio owners to provide detailed information to others, such as tech notes for the lighting or scenic people, thus decreasing expensive rehearsal time.

Students can also benefit from Dance Designer: It allows teachers to write notes for students (on the entire dance, specific portions, or for specific dancers). For instance, if Suzy is in Group 1, all the notes written for Group 1 will self-populate to Suzy’s column in the program, which the teacher can then print out and give to her.

Dani Everts, a dance teacher at Wilson Classical High School in Long Beach, California, has found the program especially helpful because she often has up to 45 students in one class. “I thought I was pretty organized, but then when I discovered this program, everything is within my laptop. My music, my notes, my formations—it’s all in one place,” she says.

Everts finds that her students are benefiting from her use of the program as well. “What’s really cool for the high school students is that they’re old enough to start doing their own choreography, so I’ve been sharing the program with them,” she says. “I think this is so valuable for them because technology is in their everyday life.”

“When you put it all together, what you basically have is a multimedia dance score,” Glen says. “And it gives [anyone who looks at the score] enough information to understand what the choreographer is trying to get across.”

Glen has further plans to keep improving the program. For example, he wants the avatars, which currently don’t move, to execute the choreography so teachers would have “a pre-visualization of what [the piece] might look like.” He would also like to add more palettes, such as ballroom, Polynesian, and belly dance.

“Everybody responds to different portions of it,” Glen says of his program, “but there seems to be something for [choreographers] at every level, whether you’re teaching a class of 5-year-olds or taking a Broadway show on tour.”  

For more information, visit choreopro.com.

What’s fair—and healthy—for talented young dancers

By Melissa Hoffman and Debbie Werbrouck

Melissa Hoffman Dance Center

As teachers, our job is not only to develop properly trained dancers and performers who make the most of their natural facility, but also to do so in a manner that fosters confidence and a love of dance. And to make things even more complex, we need to do all this in ways that are age appropriate for each child.

So here’s the problem: How can we do all this and still challenge and encourage talented young dancers who are capable of far more than their peers?

Problems with mixing ages
In theory, the obvious solution would seem to be to let the dancer move up to a level that’s appropriate to her skills and will challenge her, even if it is with older dancers. What’s wrong with that? Quite a bit, in fact. One problem is simply the age difference; the child will not be able to mix socially with her classmates. Speaking as a parent, I would not want my 7-year-old involved in the types of conversations that 12-year-olds would engage in.

Another issue is dealing with age-appropriate choreography, music, and costuming when you have too broad an age span in the class. Not only does a 7-year-old not move like a child who is 12, but there are movements that are appropriate for older dancers that a young child should not be doing.

The most important consideration, though, is the pressure placed on these young dancers. It can come back to haunt them. Pressure on dancers who excel at a young age comes from many directions: from parents, dance teachers, and themselves. In fact, chances are that many of the dancers who excel in the studio also do well in much of what they do; often, they are perfectionists who place enormous pressure on themselves. Moving them into classes with older dancers only adds to this pressure and their desire to be perfect. As a result, I have seen many tears and a loss of confidence. These kids are trying to keep up, and they are no longer having fun.

Solutions
I have come up with a policy that is fair and reasonable. It takes into account these young dancers’ physical and emotional health by challenging them without asking them to grow up too fast. It places them in an environment that makes sense, and so far it seems to make the dancers, as well as their parents and teachers, happy. Of the roughly 650 dancers at my school in Hudson, New Hampshire (120 of whom dance competitively or are professionally tracked), 4 are part of this program this year. In past years the number has ranged from 2 to 10.

For all but one class, I place these young dancers within their age group and as close as possible to their level of ability. They leave these classes feeling confident and great about themselves. As Patty Brearly, a master teacher/adjudicator from Rhode Island, points out, “An astute teacher will be able to do some modification for these dancers, such as having them do double pirouettes while others do singles.” However, do so with caution so that you do not make the other dancers in the class feel inadequate.

Then, for one technique class per week, these dancers are placed in an older, more advanced group where they are surrounded by role models to admire and try to emulate. This is their “challenge” class. They are no longer the strongest dancers in the room. By doing this just once a week, they do not feel defeated or put too much pressure on themselves. However, if at any time you see these children losing confidence, remove them from the situation; they simply are not ready to handle the challenge.

I reassure the older dancers that their class level will not be lowered to accommodate the younger dancers (which is usually their concern) and ask that they attempt to make the younger dancers comfortable. Also, I might assign an older dancer to do progressions across the floor with the younger ones.

As for performances, generally the young dancers do not perform in choreography with the older dancers unless a particular theme warrants combining the two age groups.

The kids’ perspective
Jaclyn Hoffman (my daughter) and Amanda Shaw, now both 17, were the first dancers I tried this method with, when they were 10 years old. Dancing with the older kids once a week made them feel “cool,” they say, but that soon gave way to feeling intimidated. They felt like they had to work twice as hard to fit in, but because there were two of them, they could support each other (which is something I now keep in mind).

Ultimately, though, they were glad they were given the opportunity because they liked the challenge and being with their role models. They also said that the confidence they gained made them feel even more comfortable in their normal classes, so that they could “have a blast.” And because they went through the experience themselves, they are very accepting of the current young dancers in their class.

Victoria Dumoulin, age 12, and Jillian Hoffman (also my daughter), age 11, agree with Jaclyn and Amanda. However, even though they were accepted right away, socially they still feel that the “older girls” don’t think they know what they are talking about. Despite the initial pressure, now they say they feel great because they are able to figure out how far they can go.

And Olivia Corlis, age 8, says she has felt left out socially. However, she says she is glad to have been given a chance and feels that being exposed to the advanced students is making her a stronger dancer.

Think ahead
It’s important to ask ourselves whether it is necessary to train exceptionally talented dancers quickly. If we push them too much, we are likely to see a lot of burnout and injury. And the truth is that some of the other dancers will catch up to these prodigies when they hit their teens, if not before. That’s hard for these kids to take. Naturally, we hope to help these dancers thrive and love what they do, but first they must be allowed to be kids. —Melissa Hoffman

Debbie Werbrouck’s School of Dance

At my northern Indiana school, the first step in helping students who show extra interest and promise is discussing their abilities and interest with their parents. While most are eager for additional advancement, some are perfectly content to maintain their current level of involvement.

I remember a discussion with the mother of a very talented student who I wanted to see take advantage of additional opportunities, such as auditioning for our student performance group or annual holiday production. Her mother explained that while her daughter enjoyed her classes and performing at the annual showcase, she had other interests that kept her from becoming more involved. I respected that and knew that while I would have loved to see her daughter do more, she was satisfied with the classes she was taking.

If we do get an indication of further interest, we have several options. The first step would be to add a class or two at approximately the same level; often, this will put the student into at least one class that is at a slightly higher level. Because this requires students to attend multiple classes, it eliminates those who are not ready or willing to do so.

Pressure on dancers who excel at a young age comes from many directions: from parents, dance teachers, and themselves. Moving them into classes with older dancers only adds to this pressure and their desire to be perfect.

Another option to foster growth in those students who seek it is a program called “Carte Blanche,” which allows them to attend an unlimited number of classes while paying for only the first five classes per week at a discounted rate. This is our gift of encouragement to students who are serious about dance. Sometimes this means they attend an additional three to ten classes per week at no extra cost. The program has helped many students who have grown into exceptional dancers and teachers. As a studio owner, you will need to place conditions and limits on such a program, since it will affect your income. Once you have a couple of students taking advantage of this program it will really take off. Make sure that’s what you want.

Performing groups are another method to expand a student’s experience and training. We offer, by audition, participation in our summer student performance group. These students attend classes and rehearsals with both resident and guest faculty twice per week and perform at festivals, special events, and senior centers. They take classes not only according to age and ability, but also in groups that include a broad range of ages and skill levels. This allows the advanced students to stand out as examples and the less advanced to experience working at a higher level.

Having younger students “understudy” specific dances or dancers helps them grow into the choreography and style and provides insurance in case of an illness, injury, or schedule conflict. An added bonus is the ability to observe younger dancers outside of their “normal” choreography and assess their potential.

Summer is a great time to focus on this type of performance group because dancers have fewer conflicts and thus more time to devote to their progress. It is also a good time to have students experience a diverse faculty, either from your school or through guest teachers. By building this type of program, you help your students—and also faculty members, by keeping them employed during summer months.

Another option is offering master classes with guest instructors, which are typically much less level specific than regular classes and will again allow younger students to experience the advantages of working at a higher level. Having students work with a variety of educators is very beneficial, not only for them to learn various styles but also for educators to make individual evaluations of each student. More than once I’ve had the experience of having a faculty member see and develop potential in a student that was not seen by another. And who hasn’t had a student spout some new “discovery” she learned from a guest teacher that you have preached for years?

With so many options to help students develop, educators who observe their students closely should have no problem selecting the right approach for each. That’s a win–win solution for everyone. – Debbie Werbrouck

More Teachers Chime In

Bonnie Cagle of Bonnie’s School of Dance in Humboldt, Tennessee, encourages students to attend the workshops of Chicago National Association of Dance Masters and Southern Association of Dance Masters. Besides experiencing a wide array of educators, such students also are likely to meet dancers who are more advanced than they are and hopefully will feel inspired to greater efforts. Cagle also invites promising students to attend a higher-level class at various times throughout the year as a “bonus” class—though she notes that doing so risks making other students envious.

Jean Wolfemeyer, who runs a one-woman show in Mishicot, Wisconsin, has an advancement plan that works almost in reverse. Since she is the only teacher, she can’t offer multiple levels of classes each day. So the students who want more than the one or two advanced classes available also attend classes for younger, less advanced students. (Students are not charged when they try a class for several weeks but are required to pay if they attend the class on a regular basis.) Wolfemeyer also allows younger students with exceptional ability to take the higher-level classes if she feels they need them.

Putting advanced students into lower-level classes serves a dual purpose. It allows advanced dancers to work on performing more basic elements “perfectly” in the lower-level classes while concentrating on advanced technique in their regular class. Younger students benefit from having more accomplished dancers in their classes, who provide them with a visual example to emulate. Because they admire the older dancers, they work harder to match their level of performance. Another benefit of this method is that there is less parental comparing of levels and student placement.

Wolfemeyer also encourages her students to take classes outside of her school and is often seen with her young entourage at workshops and auditions. She keeps a close eye on her charges and the classes they attend. Lyn Cramer of the University of Oklahoma says workshop faculty members know that they’re on the right track when they receive the “Wolfemeyer nod.” —Debbie Werbrouck

Discovering the universal bond of dance through international travel

By Debbie Werbrouck

When exchange student Valentina Russo came to my school, in northern Indiana, little did I know that her presence would inspire a trip to Europe. From Rome, Valentina had studied in the Royal Academy of Dance curriculum. She bonded so well with my faculty and students that she seriously considered remaining in the United States. Ultimately, she did return to Italy, but she urged us to visit. Almost six years later, we did.

I travel with my students every two years or so, and we had taken study/performance tours to New York and Walt Disney World since Valentina’s time with us. When the time finally seemed right for Debbie Werbrouck’s School of Dance to travel to Italy and France, our group numbered 23 people, including 9 dancers (ages 12 to 18), their parents, and my sister, niece, and nephew. We would spend a week in Italy and two days in France, plus two travel days.

I knew that the experience would be wonderful, but I had expectations that I wanted met. First, I wanted the dancers to perform, which meant the challenge of arranging a performance in a foreign country. That’s where Valentina could help. Although her school would be on break when we would be in Italy, she helped us connect with twin sisters who teach ballet and musical theater in a church theater near Rome and were delighted to collaborate with us.

Along with all the art and music the students would encounter in Italy, I wanted them to experience Paris and Versailles as well. Through ballet and dance history classes they knew about Louis XIV, and I wanted them to witness the grandeur of his era. By feeling the history of Europe, I hoped they would understand its influences on the development of art, music, and dance.

Also, I didn’t want to waste time getting from one travel destination to the next. We accomplished that with careful planning and the use of overnight trains. Many of our participants had never traveled by train, and only my sister and I had been on an overnight train. The students seemed to fare better than the adults in those snug quarters, but everyone survived the experience, which gave us an extra day of exploring.

My final requirement was that everyone would have breakfast and dinner together each day. Those meals were included in the tour fee. We ate most of our breakfasts and a few dinners at our hotels, but we also enjoyed plenty of meals in restaurants. Eating together helped to build a “family” relationship, made mealtime more efficient, and allowed the travelers to enjoy their own experiences at lunchtime, when prices are more reasonable. Everyone was told not to expect American-style food and to plan to be adventurous about trying new dishes. After all, wasn’t experiencing new things part of what we were doing? (Still, I’m sure my “no McDonald’s” rule was broken on several occasions.)

I worked for a year to put the tour together, hiring a tour company to handle most of the details. I booked the chartered airport transportation and worked with Valentina on the performance arrangements. Each family paid the total cost of the tour (all transportation, hotel, food, guides, and so on) in installments prior to departure day.

Getting ready
For our performance, we prepared one piece that included all of the dancers, plus several others, including a contemporary ballet piece set to a recording of Luciano Pavarotti singing “Mamma” in Italian. We kept the costumes and props very simple and didn’t include tap dance so we didn’t have to lug the heavy shoes. The dancers attended weekly rehearsals, and as our departure date approached, we held weekly updates for all participants.

I gave everyone information on basic French and Italian words and phrases, as well as links to helpful language websites. Because most of our time would be spent in Italy, we listened to Italian language CDs to help everyone feel more comfortable. (Two adults in the group spoke some French.) To the delight of our tour director (who was with us from our arrival in Rome until we boarded the plane in Paris) and bus driver, each time we did a “count off” to be sure everyone was in place, we did it in Italian.

I tried to prepare everyone for the intensity and pace of the tour; we would not have lots of time for lounging. Travelers were instructed to pack lightly, with no more than one suitcase and one carry-on bag, and to be prepared to handle their own luggage. Several months prior to the tour, I suggested that they prepare with daily walking. We also discussed passports, converting dollars to euros, tipping, and thousands of other details.

Off to Italy
After a charter bus ride to the airport, a lengthy check-in, and a three-hour weather delay on the runway, we arrived in Rome several hours late. But we still had time for an overview of the city from the Spanish Steps prior to arriving at our hotel.

We spent several days in Rome seeing the sights and preparing for the performance. The day of the show, we visited the Coliseum, the Forum, and Trevi Fountain in 90-plus-degree weather. To get everyone thinking about the performance, we played our performance music on the bus. I’m sure any non-dancers who saw us wondered what was happening as the kids marked through the dances, mostly with their arms and heads and mostly in their seats—to us, a totally normal thing for dancers to do.

The theater was in a beautiful, contemporary church just outside of Rome. Valentina was there to greet us, along with the teachers, students, and parents of the Italian dance school. Soon the ice was broken and “Facebook” became the word of the day. My 18-year-old non-dancer nephew became a pied piper of sorts, attracting many of the Italian dancers who wanted to practice their English.

The performance was fun for everyone. Our students were amazed that the Italian dancers used music from Cats, combining dance with singing and acting for a true musical-theater experience. (English-language songs and American music are very popular in Europe.)

Our performance included ballet, jazz, musical theater, and hip-hop. In my limited Italian, I made introductions, welcomed our audience (roughly 100 people, most of whom were associated with the host school), and explained a bit about our program, but I relied on Valentina for the detailed announcements. Since she speaks five languages, I was wondering why she stumbled when she announced “Coffee in a Cardboard Cup.” Apparently she was having difficulty explaining the concept of a “to-go” cup to the Italian audience!

The performance was a wonderful success for both groups on many levels, and all the participants benefited from the shared experience. It was easy to see that the love of dance is universal. Communication and friendship happened on a mostly nonverbal level but carried plenty of value. Respect, hugs, kisses, and gifts were exchanged. With all of the adventures presented on this tour, the opportunity to perform with the Italian dancers was the highlight for many of my dancers. After a wonderful evening we said teary goodbyes to Valentina, hoping to see her when she returns to Indiana for the wedding of one of her host “brothers.”

On tour
During the rest of our time in Italy we visited Florence, Assisi, Ferrara, and Venice. Our accommodations included beautiful rural settings that emphasized the slower pace that the Italians enjoy—like the one in Rocca di Papa, a village on Lake Albano where the Pope has a summer home. In this quiet setting I was sure that we would have no trouble sleeping. However, along with lovely gardens, the hotel grounds housed birds, chickens, roosters, and rabbits. Between the streetlight coming through the window and the motorcycles that woke the dogs and summoned the roosters to begin crowing at 2:30 a.m., no one got much sleep.

In Florence, our first stop was the church of San Miniato a Monte for a breathtaking early-morning view of the city before meeting our tour guide. Then we visited the Basilica of Santa Croce, browsed art masterpieces in the Uffizi Gallery and the Accademia de Belle Arti (including Michelangelo’s David statue), strolled across the Ponte Vecchio, and learned about the history of the Medicis, the art-loving family that dominated Florence for much of the 15th and 16th centuries. At the Mercato Nuovo (formerly a straw and silk market), also known as Mercato del Porcellino, we rubbed the nose of a bronze boar to ensure our return to Florence. (The statue was cast by Pietro Tacca in the 17th century, after an antique original now in the Uffizi.) And everywhere, we treated ourselves to gelato. We vowed to dance longer and harder to make up for these indulgences, but with all of our walking, it wasn’t necessary.

In Venice, boats were the transportation of the day. Everyone enjoyed a gondola ride. Along with the Piazza San Marco, the Doge’s Palace, and Rialto Bridge, we enjoyed demonstrations of glassblowing and leather- and lace-making. It was a maze of steps and walkways to our last dinner in Italy, then on to the train station. We boarded the train and settled into our sleeping cars, headed to France.

In Paris we traveled completely by Metro (the subway). The amazing Louvre was our starting point. We enjoyed lunch at a sidewalk bistro and followed the solde (sale) signs to do some shopping. We explored the Champs Élysées and the Cathedral of Notre Dame—a highlight for us since the University of Notre Dame is in our hometown of South Bend. And I’m sure that the views from our river cruise on the Seine and from the top of the Eiffel Tower are forever imprinted on the dancers’ minds. At the Basilica of the Sacred Heart, the view was breathtaking—or maybe it was the number of steps we took to arrive at the top.

Next was a visit to the home of Louis XIV in Versailles. The palace and grounds were, of course, fabulous, especially the Hall of Mirrors. Ballet’s origins and Louis XIV’s role in its history took on new meaning for the dancers as they experienced the grandeur of Versailles.

A true growth experience
During our travels, the dancers rode in gondolas and on riverboats and overnight trains. They ate pasta and fell in love with gelato. They burst into dance in a pottery factory and posed for photos in every imaginable location. They learned about art and history and swam in the Adriatic Sea. Through these experiences, and more, they saw how few differences there are among people in various parts of the world.

As dance educators, we enjoy seeing our students expand their talents and experiences. I saw true growth in all of the participants before, during, and after this tour, an experience so different from anything we could have done in America. Dancers of different ages and from several school locations, some of whom did not know each other before the tour, became friends. Seeing a different part of the world brought learning to life for everyone. As part of this group, the dancers developed patience, a caring attitude toward one another, and a spirit of cooperation.

And they learned. They learned that passion and desire are as important as the number of years of study and technical ability. They confirmed by personal experience that a large project could be achieved a little at a time, and that distance and language barriers don’t need to prevent friendships. They learned that dance is a universal language that can bridge many differences.

DC Dance Collective’s ’60s sensibility gives teachers freedom and students choices

By Jennifer Kaplan

Some people collect spoons, others, first-edition literary classics, or even Pez dispensers. Nancy Newell collects dance—of all genres—for her eclectic three-studio space in Northwest Washington, DC. With offerings that range from belly dance to Zumba, the three-story walkup is hopping and popping from 9:00 a.m. to midnight, or even later. Newell calls the 11-year-old operation DC Dance Collective (DCDC) because to her, an expert rhythm tapper, “that collective spirit is something I really like. I didn’t want [this place] to be ‘Miss Nancy’s School of Dance’; I’m a team player.”           

While Newell says tap is her first love, she wants all dance genres to stand on equal footing at DCDC. A tap teacher for 47 years, as of last fall she was teaching an astonishing 32 classes a week at DCDC and various studios in metropolitan DC. So aside from the eclectic decor featuring cushy sofas, a magazine-strewn coffee table, batik throws, and cozy blankets that make the lobby feel more like a living room, DCDC is an anomaly among studios in the region for both its collective approach and its vast offerings.

The schedule features varying levels of break and belly dance, modern, flamenco, capoeira, salsa, hula, ballet, tap, jazz, and Zumba. Newell doesn’t oversee or create a curriculum for her instructors to follow. She’s adamant about allowing her teachers creativity and independence. If that means offering advanced jazz without a beginning jazz class, that’s OK. What DCDC may lack in depth, it makes up for in breadth, including a fall 2009 schedule of more than 70 classes a week.

While Newell directs the studio and a separate nonprofit corporation—DC Artists Collective, which runs workshops, performances, and classes—there’s a 1960s sensibility about the place that has turned many teachers, parents, and students into stakeholders, even true believers, in Newell’s mission. “I don’t want to be in a position where I have to make a judgment about somebody, what they teach, and their style of dance,” Newell says. She values all genres equally, and under her guidance DCDC has become known as one of the most supportive studios for the burgeoning hip-hop and street dance styles in the DC area.

Newell, with her coppery, cropped curls and collection of tap shoes that coordinate with her outfits, notes the kinship that tap, originally a vernacular dance, has with current street forms. And she’s proud of the range of hip-hoppers, b-boys and fly girls, breakers, poppers, and lockers who have found a home base at DCDC. Among them, Boogie Bots, which competed on season 2 of America’s Best Dance Crew, featured teachers from the DCDC family.

“I think it’s cool that this is a studio run by an older white woman who is a tap dancer and there is so much urban dance,” says Ashley Shey, 18, a hip-hop student who volunteers weekly at the front desk in exchange for classes. “I decided tap wasn’t for me when I was younger. Right now I’m interested in hip-hop, and right here are the biggest hip-hop groups in the area, so you can get exposed to so many different groups.”

Karen McLane has been teaching belly dance at the studio since it opened in 1999. Although she has had opportunities elsewhere, McLane, who goes by the name Najwah onstage, remains a popular teacher at DCDC, home base for her company, Ancient Rhythms. “The studio has a very warm, welcoming feel to it,” says McLane, an interior designer. “Nancy is a very generous, inclusive, appreciative person for all forms of dance. She instills a sense of camaraderie. And, although of course she wants to make a profit, it’s clear that her higher goal is to celebrate dance in its diversity. That’s what draws me to DC Dance.”

The studio typically offers classes from 30 or more teachers weekly; some may teach a single class each week, others, half a dozen or more. “One of Nancy’s principles is that if someone has a dance style or new technique that they want to teach,” says Susan Galbraith, a longtime tap student and member of the advisory board, “if there is space and time for them, they can sign on and teach.”

Newell doesn’t oversee or create a curriculum for her instructors to follow. She’s adamant about allowing her teachers creativity and independence.

Galbraith, who oversees a program teaching English to foreign students, introduced her daughter, now 16, to tap. “It’s not like one person runs the whole show; Nancy is obviously the director,” she says. “But there’s much more opportunity for many more forms of dance to be represented and for people to chip in.”

And it’s also a place where anyone, of any age or skill level, is welcome. Five years ago Gwoping Yang took a chance on a few hip-hop classes after spending nearly 30 of his 35 years studying multiple forms of martial arts. “I wanted to find an activity that was a little less prone to injury with the same level of intensity and competition,” he says.

Today Yang teaches two popping classes at the studio and assists behind the scenes with online marketing and publicity. By day a computer database administrator, he says that teaching keeps him connected and giving back to the community that took him in when he was looking for a new experience. “I didn’t anticipate that urban dance would be the next phase for me, but it turned out that it had that same kind of energy and competition. But it didn’t hurt as much.”

Yang, like many teachers, students, and parents, has put in regular hours throughout the year to keep the studio running. He refers to the five or more hours a week he spends on DCDC as his “community service.” Newell is the only full-time employee. The desk assistants work in exchange for classes—every four hours at the desk equals two classes. A part-time bookkeeper manages the accounts and payroll, and one volunteer serves as the operations manager, training all the desk assistants to track class sizes, run credit cards, count heads, and get teachers to sign off on their class enrollment. Galbraith manages the rental schedule for outside rehearsals.

Newell decided early on that as a collective, all teachers, no matter the genre taught or years of experience, would be paid equally according to class size. Teachers receive half of what each class takes in and they must sign off on the attendance sheet to verify that their count matches that of the desk assistant. This means that teachers who market themselves can reap rewards of larger classes and a higher pay rate; Newell says that some of her teachers print and distribute their own postcards or flyers. Others are content with a smaller number of regulars. Students can pay by the class ($17 per one-hour class) or purchase cards of 6, 10, or 12 classes per session, which are discounted accordingly.

Like most studios, Newell’s has seen a drop in attendance over the past 18 months due to the economic downturn. But she still insists that her teachers teach, whether one student shows up, or 20. “I realize that everybody who comes to take a class either left work early, skipped dinner, or got a babysitter, and specifically planned to be here. Their lives revolve around that, so we should honor our commitment,” Newell says.

While the studio has about 300 active students on its books, receipts are down, so the number of classes per week or month they take may have dropped. To make up the gap between class and rental fees and the growing expenses, including a $4,000-plus monthly electric bill, Newell charges an annual registration fee of $15 per student.

Besides teaching and directing at DCDC, Newell choreographs about a half-dozen musicals a year for regional high school and community theaters. It’s rare that she has a moment to plop down on her cushy sofa and put her feet up. “Even though it’s a collective, ultimately the buck stops here,” she says, gesturing to herself. “I know that everybody here can just walk out the door except for me.”

But Newell thrives on the collective spirit she has nurtured at the studio: “I love the fact that I’m not insulated. If I don’t agree with something, it’s not like it’s my way or the highway. Everybody’s philosophy is totally valid.” That’s the DC Dance Collective way.

Student helpers and teaching assistants have much to offer, much to gain

By Steve Sucato

When it comes to running a successful dance studio, taking advantage of all your available resources is key. One of the best resources for any studio is its student body. Student teaching assistants and demonstrators or class assistants can be an invaluable addition to your workforce. By developing a program in which students learn to function in these roles, you create a win–win scenario: Students aid in the school’s day-to-day operations while gaining valuable teaching and leadership skills.

With the proper training, students can provide additional sets of eyes, ears, and hands in the classroom to help with a number of tasks. These can include maintaining order, demonstrating steps, running warm-ups, and in some cases, taking over for a teacher who has been called from the room.

Setting up a program
While the needs of individual studios can vary, many working models of student helper programs have several basic aspects in common, such as the tasks teaching assistants and demonstrators are given and the ways in which the students are compensated for their efforts.

The size of your student helper program and the number of demonstrators and teaching assistants you utilize will depend on the number of students and classes at your studio, your target teacher/student ratio (for instance, a class of a dozen students at a teacher/student ratio of 1:6 would require the use of one student helper in addition to the teacher), as well as your budget for compensating these helpers.

For many studio owners with student helper programs, such as Melissa Hoffman, owner of Melissa Hoffman Dance Center in Hudson, New Hampshire, a two-front approach is the preferred choice. Hoffman’s program uses a combination of student demonstrators and student teaching assistants.

Student helpers’ hours can vary depending on each studio’s need and each student’s availability. For demonstrators and greeter/escorts, 1 to 3 hours per week is typical, whereas teaching assistants tend to work 3 to 10 hours per week or more. In most cases, the studio owners interviewed schedule their assistants to work on days they will be at the studio for their own classes.

Demonstrators
Demonstrators are usually young students who have the skills to act as an example in the classroom for others to imitate. “Student demonstrators have no voice in the class,” says Hoffman. “They don’t make corrections, lead warm-ups, or discipline other students.”

The age at which student demonstrators begin varies from studio to studio. Hoffman starts them at age 13 while Jennifer Kups, owner of Studio J Academy of Dance in Beachwood, Ohio, has demonstrators as young as 10. To train them, she pairs them with older and more experienced demonstrators or student teaching assistants.

Other typical responsibilities of student demonstrators include organizing and lining up younger students for class, helping them with their shoes, helping them use the bathroom, and doing light housekeeping and office duties. Additionally, they can serve as onstage demonstrators to guide young dancers through their routines during dress rehearsals or recitals.

Greeter/escorts
Hedy Perna, owner of Perna Dance Center in Hazlet, New Jersey, takes a different approach to the use of her younger student assistants, whom she calls “interns.”  Her studio has a drop-off service in which the interns greet young children at the car, escort them into the studio, help them with shoes and coats, and line them up for class. This eliminates the need for parents to come into the school when dropping off their children. During classes the interns help around the studio with office work and housekeeping duties, while older student teaching assistants handle all classroom helper duties.

Teaching assistants
Teaching assistants, usually older and upper-level students, act as direct assistants to the primary teachers during class. In addition to (or instead of, in some cases) the duties of student demonstrators, student teaching assistants are often given tasks with more responsibility and that require more skills, such as organizing the music for a class and operating the sound system. They also might lead warm-up exercises, do costume and shoe fittings, and make small corrections. They even can act as substitute teachers when needed. Additionally, assistants can help at recital time by organizing costumes and scenery, working backstage, or serving as onstage demonstrators. They can escort children to the performance areas at competitions as well as aid in studio events such as registration and back-to-school days, parties, and picture days.

Choosing the right students
The jobs of student demonstrator and teaching assistant are just that—jobs—and as in any hiring process, employers should look for certain qualifications and qualities.

Since no one knows the students at your studio better than you and your staff, the process of choosing potential demonstrators and assistants begins there. Like most of the studio directors interviewed for this article, Suzie Wrobel, assistant director of Dance Spectrum in Depew, New York, relies on teacher recommendations in choosing potential student helpers. “Our teachers look for students who seem patient and could talk to other students and relay instruction without being intimidating,” says Wrobel.

With the proper training, students can provide additional sets of eyes, ears, and hands in the classroom to help with a number of tasks.

Whether you post jobs that are open to all students or invite certain ones to apply for the positions, like Wrobel, you’ll want to look for certain qualities in potential student helpers.

Perna has developed a list of criteria for assessing a student’s potential as an assistant:

• Responsibility and dependability
• Technical ability
• Personal initiative and work ethic                  
• Respectful attitude and behavior
• Maturity, readiness, and enthusiasm                          
• Loyalty and commitment to the studio

Other qualities to look for include an outgoing personality and level of comfort in speaking aloud in a classroom full of students (and sometimes parents). Have the students demonstrated that they work well with younger children? Can they handle the added workload in their schedule?

Once they have chosen their student helpers, many studio owners work with them before and during the school year to train them for their jobs. Dance Spectrum holds ongoing classes for student helpers that teach them not only how to do specific tasks but also how to identify proper technique in children.

For example, in a training class, Wrobel has her students call out instructions about body positions during head isolations in a jazz warm-up. “I teach them what to do and what to look for in every exercise,” she says. “If they cannot correct themselves, they cannot correct someone else.”

Other studios pair new demonstrators and assistants with veteran ones for on-the-job training instead of holding separate training classes.

Regardless of the method employed, it is important that both the student helpers and the teaching faculty feel comfortable with the helpers’ capabilities. Some studios go as far as requiring their assistants to be enrolled in each discipline they assist in.

Compensation
While some studios’ student helpers work on a volunteer basis, most studios compensate them in some manner. Rates of cash compensation vary from school to school. Demonstrators and greeter/escorts might be paid a starting wage of as little as $1 to $3 an hour, depending on age and experience. Student teaching assistants typically make minimum wage or higher.

“I pay my student teaching assistants like a real job,” says Hoffman. “The ones who are old enough are put on my payroll. For the older girls who assist, this is a way of making extra money for going out and [paying for] gas without having to seek other employment outside the studio that might interfere with their training.” She pays her assistants $6.50 to $8.50 an hour.

Like other studio owners, Hoffman feels that treating student helpers as employees adds more weight to the positions and encourages the students to take their responsibilities seriously. When some form of compensation is attached to the job, student helpers are more likely to show up to work on time and be prepared for class. Most studio owners expect them to arrange for another student helper to cover for them when they know they will be absent.

Other studios, instead of paying students directly, offer tuition or community service credits as compensation. At Perna Dance Center, student assistants and interns earn $2.50 per hour in tuition credit. These alternative forms of compensation work best for underage demonstrators and teaching assistants who cannot be paid a wage.

Although child labor laws vary from state to state (check your state’s requirements), jobs like these fall under the federal Fair Labor Standards Act (FLSA). The act sets wages, hours worked, and safety requirements for minors (individuals under age 18). The rules vary depending on the age of the minor and the job involved. As a general rule, the FLSA sets 14 as the minimum age for employment and limits the number of hours worked by minors under the age of 16. See the U.S. Department of Labor website (dol.gov/dol/topic/youthlabor) for more information.

Benefits to schools
Benefits of employing student helpers include allowing the primary teacher to cover more material in a class, keeping classes moving and on time, offering additional individualized attention to students, lowering the student–teacher ratio in classes, and promoting younger students’ engagement in the class, who look up to the student helpers and want to be like them.

And there is a long-term benefit, too, Wrobel says. “You know what you are getting as a teacher if these assistants someday want to join your faculty. You are training them the way you want them to teach, and you know when you put them in a class they are going to continue that legacy. When you bring in someone from the outside, you really don’t know what kind of teacher they are going to be.”

Benefits to student helpers
For the student demonstrators and teaching assistants themselves, these jobs allow them to earn wages or scholarship money, provide them with basic training as a dance teacher, and generate valuable job and life skills.

“Assisting classes has taught me a lot about how to be a good teacher,” says 17-year-old Amanda Shaw of Melissa Hoffman Dance Center. A student demonstrator and assistant since age 9, Shaw feels that she has a new sense of responsibility and an even greater love for dance because of her work as a student helper.

“Being an assistant teacher has taught me skills useful in any job,” says Shaw’s fellow student Jaclyn Hoffman, the studio owner’s daughter. Jaclyn, also 17, doesn’t see a teaching career in her future, but she says that her experiences as an assistant have helped her became more responsible and more confident in herself and her ability to take charge of groups.

Another benefit, says Dominique Alioto, an 18-year-old student teaching assistant at Studio J, is being in more dance classes. “I take the corrections the teacher gives to the other dancers in the classes I assist in and apply them to myself,” says Alioto. “Even though I have taken the classes before, I keep trying to improve.”

Perhaps the biggest benefit of a student helper program is the reason your dance studio might exist in the first place: It promotes the love of dance and provides a way to share it with others.

Says Alioto, “I like helping younger students get a step and seeing the smile they get knowing they have accomplished something. It is exciting to see.”

What more could you ask for?

How to Be a Great Teaching Assistant

5 tips from Hedy Perna to share with students

1. Talk to your teacher. No matter how experienced you are as a dancer or student assistant, you need to talk to the teachers of the classes you are assigned to assist in. Ask them exactly what your duties will be. Do they want you to operate the music system or take attendance? Also find out how much input they want from you in class.

2. Pay attention to routine. Younger children often do not do well with change. In order for students to learn, they must have a regular and repetitive routine upon which to build basic technique. Write down the order of the class and instructions given to the students. Use the same teaching style and technique weekly. Repeat the same instructions and verbiage that the teachers use. Try to emulate the teachers as much as possible, using similar vocal emphasis and tone.

3. Take notes. Not only does note taking help you to remember the pattern of a class, the students’ names, and teaching hints, but your notes can be used later should you pursue a teaching career. Be prepared to take notes for the teacher if needed. Every step or combination taught in classes you assist in should be written in your notebook. By using those notes in subsequent classes, you should be able to repeat a combination confidently and capably.

4. Be proactive. Help students pay attention in class. At the appropriate times, round up students quickly so the teachers don’t have to stop what they are doing to tell you to organize the students. Help younger children with their shoes, coats, and the like, and accompany them to the bathroom if they need help. Learn every student’s name.

5. Be a great example. Know your dance terminology. Be flawless in your technique. Look professional in dress and demeanor and always be friendly and project an upbeat mood. Most important, always be prepared for class.

Diversity, discipline, and devotion rule at Westlake School for the Performing Arts

By Sophia Emigh

Many dance schools that excel in one area falter in another. They might boast a strong pointe program, for example, while lacking challenging modern classes, or show off knockout competition choreography at the cost of supporting students’ positive growth in the classroom. Enter Malu Rivera-Peoples, however, and you’ve got another story. Her Westlake School for the Performing Arts (WSPA) in Daly City, California (just south of San Francisco), juggles a culture of dedicated training with success in competitions and a rich cultural program, getting results on a broad scale. What’s her secret? It all boils down to hard work and love.

 

From 0 to 1,000
Rivera-Peoples’ commitment to excellence traces back to her time dancing in the Philippines. She began studying ballet with Felicitas Radaic at age 10, joined Dance Theater Philippines at 16 and then Ballet Philippines in college, and started her own one-room studio school at 19. When the demands of touring life got to her at the peak of her performing career at 23, she left dance behind to join her father and sister in California.

A stint as a toy company’s secretary soon gave way to teaching ballet part-time and an urge to start a school whose teaching philosophy would live up to her own high standards. Though she lacked students, Rivera-Peoples brought her program and a load of confidence to Daly City’s Parks and Recreation Department, and in 1991 struck a deal to rent studios in what had been a grammar school and artist studios, a complex by then crowded by weeds and fences. Her vision for the future prevailed as she convinced the city to give her school a new home with mirrors, barres, and raised floors in the Doelger Art Center.

Paired with her teaching partner, Karen Dycaico, once her student in the Philippines and a “magical pied piper,” says Rivera-Peoples, with the kids, in three years the women grew the school from 35 students to 300. When the ballet students began winning the California State Talent Competition, families brought in sisters, cousins, and friends to take class. A simple ballet and tap program with Philippine dance in the summer intensive expanded when a teacher walked in the door and offered to start a character program; a musical theater program now headed by Katie Kerwin followed. With as many as 1,200 students at one point (the number has now settled at around 1,000), Rivera-Peoples called on her husband, Paul Peoples (now WSPA’s executive director), to handle the business end of WSPA’s massive growth, while she focused on choreography and working with beginning students.

Although Rivera-Peoples credits good fortune with bringing teachers and opportunities to her door, she’s quick to say that her success came from more than luck: “Maybe I’m blessed with that, but I work very hard. It’s been my life, always pushing, just being open to anything that comes by.”

An atmosphere of pride
As Rivera-Peoples gives a tour of the school, laughter from the courtyard spills over into Tahitian drumming, a Broadway jazz tune, and live piano accompanying pliés in the biggest studio. Parents approach her, and a tap teacher is eager to show off her students’ routine. An excitement about learning and growth is palpable here, as is familial support.

WSPA offers a general school for beginners and a performance program for those motivated to compete and perform more often; students can audition for the latter every June, and most are accepted unless they lack maturity or focus. Demonstrating her faith in students, Rivera-Peoples says, “Even if you don’t have technique, we’ll put you in a level where you can build your technique and go from there.”

Despite the rich array of classes (for example, 45 separate classes for students ages 3 to 6 alone), students tend to specialize in one discipline once they hit their teenage years. The commitment of Rivera-Peoples and her teachers to broadening the scope of the curriculum has brought an unusual level of respect to ballet, tap, jazz, Graham-based modern, Polynesian, musical theater, and hip-hop alike.

The performance programs, despite their demands, are strong enough to attract their own following; students take such pride in their chosen genre that they want to become part of the group. Each boasts its own official name: The Company (hip-hop), WSPA Dance Company (ballet, modern, and contemporary), Te Orama (Polynesian), and The Kinetic Dancers (jazz).

Rivera-Peoples credits the excellence of the classes and groups to the quality of the teaching: “It all depends on the teachers, the energy they put in. The pride that comes along with that is very, very important.”

An unusual pairing
WSPA is also known for its extensive Polynesian dance program, offering both traditional Hawaiian and Tahitian dance and chances to perform in annual competitions and festivals like Te Aranui O Tahiti, hosted at San Francisco State University and attended by dancers from all over California. Anthony Manaois, the program’s director, teaches his students routines inspired by summers he spent in Hawaii or memories passed down from his grandparents. In class, he’ll explain a dance’s origins and how its meaning weaves into the movement.

In addition to the large Filipino population in the area, Rivera-Peoples believes the accessibility of the dances’ stories has fueled the popularity of the Polynesian program. She respects the kids’ ability to chant in new languages while dancing and their stamina for the fast Tahitian movements: “Because they’re so young and like sponges, they learn.”

Te Orama splits an unusual bill in the yearly Urban Paradise show, alternating numbers with the hip-hop company, whose graceful approach reminds Rivera-Peoples of watching ballet. Headed by her son, Patrick Cruz, the primarily college-age hip-hop students are passionate, sometimes rehearsing until midnight after school and evening jobs. Rivera-Peoples commends them for their commitment. “Their pieces come from the heart. It’s their story.”

Caught up in derogatory associations of hip-hop, the kids still get profiled by local police. “What they don’t know is these guys are so straight,” says Rivera-Peoples. “They’re working and in school. They just love hip-hop dance.” Rivera-Peoples used Young Performers Inc. (WSPA’s separate nonprofit fund-raising and production organization) to start Urban Paradise, to raise money while showing her students in a positive light. “I didn’t want them to stop training just because they didn’t have the money and support of their parents,” she says.  

Te Orama’s share of the profits raised by Young Performers pays for lavish handmade traditional costumes, while The Company uses its proceeds for competition expenses. While WSPA doesn’t have an official scholarship program, Rivera-Peoples offers students a chance to volunteer at Young Performers in lieu of tuition, opening to everyone the possibility for exploration through dance.

“You can teach them anything.”
WSPA’s vast offerings are backed by a culture of rigorous training. Although Rivera-Peoples is in tears when she watches her hip-hop and Polynesian kids perform in Urban Paradise, she says it’s hard to please her. “When I see that the performance is not good, I go back to the teacher and say, ‘That was very disappointing. We’re going to have to redo the plan to make [the kids] prepared.’ ”

Rivera-Peoples’ eye for detail sprang from her background with the Royal Academy of Dance’s examinations. “From the pinky to the head—that’s how you’re examined. Since I went through that, that’s how I taught.” This level of expectation shows respect for the children’s abilities, capacity for learning, and potential for pride in their own accomplishments. Rivera-Peoples always tells teachers, “Do not underestimate these little kids, because you can teach them anything.”

One of the secrets of Rivera-Peoples’ success and of her school’s atmosphere of mutual respect is that her standards for her programs and teachers are as high as those for her dancers.

Eleven-year-old student Margaux Brosnan says that her teachers have inspired her to push through hard moments in dance and in her own life by sharing stories of their own perseverance. Such guidance gives many students a strong focus that makes the school’s high standards seem reachable.

Standards of excellence
WSPA teachers never sacrifice technique drills for rehearsal time even near performances, matching the school’s philosophy that performing without solid technique defeats the point. Rivera-Peoples believes that stage presence and successful performances stem from students knowing what they’re doing. She makes it clear that if the students are not serious in the beginning, they’ll suffer come recital time or competition when they see their work onstage. And she tells her teachers, “The performance of the kids is the gauge of how well you’ve done.”

That phrase, “how well you’ve done,” is worth noting. One of the secrets of Rivera-Peoples’ success and of her school’s atmosphere of mutual respect is that her standards for her programs and teachers are as high as those for her dancers. She takes pride in her teachers’ college educations and successes in her supportive yet demanding environment.

Nineteen-year-old hip-hop teacher Matthew Montenegro says that WSPA has been like a family to him since second grade, giving him confidence, discipline, creative challenges and critiques, and chances to share his talents with his own community and the world.

Twenty-six-year-old teacher Jessica Manalo is also eager to share her love of WSPA. A teacher since 1998, she is also the school’s webmaster and artistic coordinator for community outreach events. WSPA is far more than a workplace to her; she values the sense of community fostered at her “home away from home,” the freedom given to teachers, and the “true nurturing spirit and care for the children, teaching, and for the art,” she says.

Manalo has known Rivera-Peoples for 18 years; she was named as her protégé when Rivera-Peoples was honored as one of the Filipina Women’s Network’s 100 Most Influential Women in 2007. As the dance director at Holy Angels School in Colma, California, Manalo now uses Rivera-Peoples’ leadership as a model for her own success. (In turn, Rivera-Peoples credits her own ability to remain levelheaded and to see talent in all people to the strong business and artistic leadership of Alice Reyes, artistic director of Ballet Philippines.)

According to Manalo, Rivera-Peoples focuses neither on pleasing parents nor on creating “perfect” dancers. Rather, she “educates the whole person” in the window of time she has to make an impact on children’s lives, teaching them life skills through technique and discipline in the classroom.

While offering such support, Rivera-Peoples expects her teachers to take responsibility for the level of focus in their classroom. She tells them that the students “can do fabulous things for you, so push them. Nurture them. Every child is important.”

A month before recitals, she organizes mini-shows for classes to share their work and receive both positive feedback and constructive criticism. Her demands for accountability extend beyond teaching to her own directorship: She has pushed herself to develop strong programs so that she can offer students of every discipline a place to earn respect and to respect themselves.

Positive reinforcement
Beyond rigorous technique standards, Rivera-Peoples encourages unusually confident and nuanced stage presence in her students by “making them feel unique, beautiful, and special.” Every time one cracks a smile, she’ll say, “You’re gorgeous—keep that up!” She adds, “It’s basically constant reinforcement of how beautiful they are.”

“Cold faces,” she says, come up onstage only when kids are unsure of what they’re doing. If teachers have drilled them from the moment class starts, they can nip stage fright in the bud. Rivera-Peoples encourages both concentration and exploration in class: “I tell them, ‘You need to make all the mistakes now, but you need to zone from the minute you walk into the class. It’s work.’ The joy in that is being able to master that, and then you can have fun.”

Just before her students wow the crowds with their precision and passion onstage, Rivera-Peoples tells them, “You’re not going to make a mistake, because you’re very prepared. So just go out there and do it, and just have fun.”

A little girl named Jonalyn Monpero, who turned 8 years old during the Youth America Grand Prix, joins Rivera-Peoples in the school’s courtyard. Competition organizers said the girl wouldn’t be a good representation of WSPA since the minimum competition age was 9, but Rivera-Peoples said Jonalyn was ready and wanted to compete. With obvious pride, one arm around Jonalyn’s shoulders, Rivera-Peoples says, “And guess what? She took third!” The organizers apologized and Jonalyn was interviewed onstage about her favorite part of dancing. “And what did you say? Having fun.” The little girl nods.

Motivations of the heart
WSPA thrives because its demanding culture is rooted in motivations of the heart. Rivera-Peoples’ passion for teaching fires her up to come to work every day, and her students’ and teachers’ respect for her is borne out of her great respect for them.

As Rivera-Peoples always tells her students before a competition, “I don’t care about winning the trophy. What I care about is that you outdo yourself. I know what you’re capable of doing. If you do less than what you have done in the studio, then you’ve lost. But if you do better than what you’ve done in the studio, I don’t care if they don’t give you the trophy. To me, you’ve won, and you should celebrate that.”