Reflections on an Evening Out

Emma was in a ballet recital on Friday evening. Actually both 'ballet' and 'recital' are misleading. Emma's class did a tap 'number' and really no one else did ballet (although I hear the second act had something that might be construed to be ballet, we didn't stay that long). And it wasn't so much a recital as an exhibition of all that I find amazing, and indeed repellent in America today.

For a year Emma has been going faithfully every Wednesday evening to dance for an hour with a lot of other little girls at a sort of rundown badly lit generic dance studio in downtown Binghamton. We have stuck it out because the little girls are nice and the teacher is pretty and young and fresh faced and Emma loves her. They worked all year on a dance to the popular (if dated) 'Under the Sea' from the Little Mermaid. Emma hasn't seen this movie yet (as per my planning, I think its scary and weird and I'd rather her not see it this young) and so didn't have any idea what the song is about or why her costume was bright red (I presume to make them all look like little lobsters), and I think she was secretly disappointed that she wasn't wearing pink. Well, not so secret, she asked several times why they were wearing red instead of pink, and why the song was 'blue'.

The day of the dress rehearsal she didn't dance at all. She stood steadfastly on the stage, immobile, with her fingers in her mouth and watched everyone else do the dance. Afterward she said that she hadn't known the dance perfectly and therefore wasn't prepared to do it in front of everyone. We had a long talk about perfection versus doing the best you can, and how only God is perfect. This appeared to disturb her just as much as it does me. Why can't we be perfect? She wanted to know. Because we're not God, I said. And she was disappointed.

The day of the recital I cleaned in the morning and took a super long nap, so that I would have energy to get through the evening. And then I charged up the video and ran to the store for a cheep camera and flowers (pale pink roses) for Emma at the end of the evening. And then I gave everyone a bath and carefully fluffed and sprayed Emma's hair and applied vast quantities of red to her cheeks and lips, so that we would be able to see her from the audience. And then she and I ran screaming out of the house, late, leaving Aedan, Rowan and Matt to follow in an hour. (Matt was in charge of the flowers and forgot them and had to run back out directly after Emma danced to come back and get them, allowing him, unfairly, to miss most of the rest of the dancing.)

Of course everything was badly marked at the high school, where this important event was slated to take place, and so we trudged all the way up to the 3rd floor looking for the right dressing room, and then came all the way back down. It was wretchedly and sickeningly hot and loud--dozens of various sized girls is garishly and inappropriately tight costumes and make up, tapping around the hallways and giggling. The little ones were overwhelmed by the heat and noise. We lined them up along a wall and tried to keep count. Eventually I did have to leave Emma who looked at me mournfully as I sped away. 'Please dance' I begged her. She just looked at me and didn't say anything.

But she did dance, and she was very cute. If only Matt will figure out how to get the video off the tape so I can link it or something. And eventually we'll have some pictures. But that was length to which the pleasantness of the evening lasted. She was number two on the program. Number three through twenty-five were uniformly awful. The music, as I mentioned before, was miles too loud, and the choice of music left a lot to be desired. I took exception, for instance, to the 6 and 7 year olds having to dance to 'Nothing can take me away from my guy' a fun popular tune, but if you listen to the words, actually not the least bit appropriate for little children. And pretty much ALL the dances, excepting the little ones, were highly sexualized-young girls in tight things jiggling their way through song after song. I was shocked, especially as I glanced over at Aedan and saw him gazing, transfixed, at a line of girls shaking themselves around the stage. But actually, even more shocking than a lot of little and young girls dancing thusly, was the group of older, shall we say, mature dancers, also in tight outfits, dancing to overtly sexual lyrics in a crassly sexual way. Whatever happened to ballroom dancing, I ask myself, or English country dancing on the lawn?

And so Emma will not be dancing at this little studio next year (in spite of the lovely young teacher). We will look for something a little more classically inclined, and should that not present itself, her dream of being a famous ballet dancer will have to be postponed for another place and time.

Pondering all this, after congratulating Emma on her stellar performance, we all went out for ice cream and watched our young offspring eat green apple ice cream with sprinkles, and blue cotton candy ice cream with sprinkles. And then we came home and went thankfully to bed.

Conversations with Aedan

Saturday Morning in the Kitchen baking mini muffins for Bible Study
Aedan: Look, Mommy, there is a baby lion over there.
Anne: Where?
Aedan: Over there, by the stove.
Anne: Oh, that's nice.
Aedan: Yeah, there's a baby lion. He is walking with his daddy and his mommy. He was sad before because he was by himself.
Anne: But he's not sad any more?
Aedan: No. He's walking. He's a baby lion.
Emma coming into the kitchen: Where is the baby lion?
Aedan: Over there. See.
Emma: Oh, yeah. That's a nice lion.