Dirty Dancing

The school I teach at, which also happens to be my old stomping grounds from grades one to nine, hosted its Tenth Annual Talent Show last night. I am on the talent show committee and had the pleasure of coming back from my maternity leave to help out.  The auditorium swelled with proud parents, sparkling costumes, tap shoes, electric guitars, and “wound up” performers running up and down the isles in anticipation of their talent debut. It was like I jumped in a time machine and landed in 1989 except I wasn’t sitting in the sound booth, I was back stage waiting to go on.  I had been cast in the “Theme Dance” that ended the show.  The Theme Dace was traditionally choreographed by two grade nine girls. Any dancers from grades five to nine could audition in the hopes of being cast in the show.  I was wearing a purple leotard that I remember being pretty excited to wear it because I slept in it the night before and wore it under my clothes to school.  I had on a fresh pair of jazz shoes, the black fabric ones that criss crossed over the bridge of your foot.  I looked through the darkness as the lights began to dim hoping to catch a wave at my sister who was wearing the exact thing, except it was pink. The plastic phone hanging on the wall was flashing from the sound booth where Mr. V was on the line directing traffic off stage. The dancers were anxious and restless, whispering amongst each other and scolding each other to, “Shhh, quiet, YOU be quiet, shhhhhhh,” It was time to take our positions on stage. I was frozen in my "attractive pose" up against the backdrop, which I don’t believe was at all attractive, with an eyeball scanning the crowd while the curtain opened.  The first note of, Janet Jackson’s Escapade played and we were off.  Randomly we had to unfreeze from our pose and walk attractively towards the audience.  Again I do not believe I walked attractively, in fact I wasn’t walking at all because I was shoved back in the twelfth row.  My sister was way up in the front in the first few rows!  Luckily we had parts where everyone left the stage and we came out in three’s and four’s doing chaine turns, chasses, and, jazz runs across the stage. Then all thirty of us piled on for a few kick ball changes, attractive head spins, and a back arch before the finale where we ran into the center of the stage, stretched our hands in the air, and delivered the best attractive jazz hands we could .  I looked off stage at the grade nine boy who had to lift me during the finale.  I fell in love with him that week during rehearsals as he picked me up, put me down, and picked me up…with little ease. He gave me the nod and took position on the stage in a ready stanse.  I ran like the wind and he lifted me high into the lights where I could see the whole crowd!  The finale was a smash and the crowd roared in approval. The curtain closed and the stage  would forever call to me.

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