I would like to say that our class went splendidly this morning, that Juliette laughed and fell in with the other aspiring tu-tu wearing three-year-olds, and that she had a great time of her first dance class. But if I said those things, I would be writing a work of fiction.
Our morning started out optimistically enough. I woke Juliette and asked if she was ready to get dressed for ballet class. She literally bounded out of bed. After a eating a banana, wrestling her into tights, and putting her hair in a knot, we were ready to leave. While walking to the car, I got teary. This is my oldest child's first class! I flashed forward, naturally, to her leaving for college. I said aloud, "You and me, we get to do the hard parts," thinking that Juliette and I would be the ones to pave the way for everyone else - for Ilsa and any other children we may have, for Keven, for the girls' grandparents and other relatives. I felt like Juliette and I were on the front lines of MATURING - holding her hand, walking across the snowy parking lot, and jumping this hurdle together, with everyone else in supporting, supportive roles. Juliette, responding to my rhetorical statement, said, "Yes, mommy." Fifteen years from now she'll tell me to calm down and stop being so sentimental, and that she'll be fine.
Anyway, excessive mommy digression aside, we arrived at the dance class with time to spare. Juliette liked the wall-sized mirror and kept looking at herself, but my concerns about this first class were well founded. She has never been in a classroom situation of any kind before, with the closest approximation being storytimes at a library or a private residence with Ilsa and I in attendance. So when the teacher asked the girls to sit in a circle to take attendance, Juliette freaked. She didn't want to sit in a circle. She stood by me and cried. Nine other kids... just fine. Some of them even raised their hands when the teacher called their names, indicating pre-school experience. So as the crying continued, we left the classroom in favor of the hallway and a brief time-out.
After she calmed down and said she was done crying, we made a quick stop to the bathroom. Upon returning to the class, she walked in by herself; I stayed in the hallway. Parents will be asked to wait in the halls next week, anyway, so I thought it best that I stay out of her sight for what remained of the class. While sitting, listening to the teacher ask the kids to "squish bugs with their toes" or "pretend to hold a ball," I realized that our first accomplishment was getting her into the room, by herself and without tears.
However, when I peaked in to see what how she was doing... she wasn't. While other girls were galloping like horses or squishing bugs, she stood rooted to her spot. She was out on the floor, but slightly off to one side. No galloping. No squishing. Everything that I know about Juliette - her energy, her assertiveness - was gone. She looked like a very tall, very cute, very confused little three-year-old, when normally I see her as being so much older than she really is.
The teacher gives out stickers for the girls who do well in class, with stickers withheld for disciplinary problems. But being that this was the first class, she gave Juliette a sticker too, on the condition that she dances next week if she wants another one. Yeah, we'll see. I'm hoping that all of this is like her first few attempts in the swimming pool, with later visits yielding more fun and better, more productive results. Otherwise, this is going to be one very long 10-week session.
As a note to relatives, cameras are not allowed in the weekly practices, and only three of the ten sessions will permit parents to observe class. Today was one of those three. However, the girls will have a recital one week following their final class where camcorders will be permitted. I'll take video then, so sometime in mid-April you will see the result of all this upcoming hard work. My only hopes now, however, involve a lack of crying and just a little, tiny bit of galloping!
Our morning started out optimistically enough. I woke Juliette and asked if she was ready to get dressed for ballet class. She literally bounded out of bed. After a eating a banana, wrestling her into tights, and putting her hair in a knot, we were ready to leave. While walking to the car, I got teary. This is my oldest child's first class! I flashed forward, naturally, to her leaving for college. I said aloud, "You and me, we get to do the hard parts," thinking that Juliette and I would be the ones to pave the way for everyone else - for Ilsa and any other children we may have, for Keven, for the girls' grandparents and other relatives. I felt like Juliette and I were on the front lines of MATURING - holding her hand, walking across the snowy parking lot, and jumping this hurdle together, with everyone else in supporting, supportive roles. Juliette, responding to my rhetorical statement, said, "Yes, mommy." Fifteen years from now she'll tell me to calm down and stop being so sentimental, and that she'll be fine.
Anyway, excessive mommy digression aside, we arrived at the dance class with time to spare. Juliette liked the wall-sized mirror and kept looking at herself, but my concerns about this first class were well founded. She has never been in a classroom situation of any kind before, with the closest approximation being storytimes at a library or a private residence with Ilsa and I in attendance. So when the teacher asked the girls to sit in a circle to take attendance, Juliette freaked. She didn't want to sit in a circle. She stood by me and cried. Nine other kids... just fine. Some of them even raised their hands when the teacher called their names, indicating pre-school experience. So as the crying continued, we left the classroom in favor of the hallway and a brief time-out.
After she calmed down and said she was done crying, we made a quick stop to the bathroom. Upon returning to the class, she walked in by herself; I stayed in the hallway. Parents will be asked to wait in the halls next week, anyway, so I thought it best that I stay out of her sight for what remained of the class. While sitting, listening to the teacher ask the kids to "squish bugs with their toes" or "pretend to hold a ball," I realized that our first accomplishment was getting her into the room, by herself and without tears.
However, when I peaked in to see what how she was doing... she wasn't. While other girls were galloping like horses or squishing bugs, she stood rooted to her spot. She was out on the floor, but slightly off to one side. No galloping. No squishing. Everything that I know about Juliette - her energy, her assertiveness - was gone. She looked like a very tall, very cute, very confused little three-year-old, when normally I see her as being so much older than she really is.
The teacher gives out stickers for the girls who do well in class, with stickers withheld for disciplinary problems. But being that this was the first class, she gave Juliette a sticker too, on the condition that she dances next week if she wants another one. Yeah, we'll see. I'm hoping that all of this is like her first few attempts in the swimming pool, with later visits yielding more fun and better, more productive results. Otherwise, this is going to be one very long 10-week session.
As a note to relatives, cameras are not allowed in the weekly practices, and only three of the ten sessions will permit parents to observe class. Today was one of those three. However, the girls will have a recital one week following their final class where camcorders will be permitted. I'll take video then, so sometime in mid-April you will see the result of all this upcoming hard work. My only hopes now, however, involve a lack of crying and just a little, tiny bit of galloping!
4 comments:
I am not a fan of ballet and I think I expressed this already. However, I think it will be a great experience for Juliette, to interact with other children and with a teacher. Plus ballet shapes your body incredibly.
Have you ever thought of yoga for kids? During this holidays I ran some sessions for my friend's children (aged 5 and 7). They were so interested in what I explained them about observing their body, being concetrated to achieve balance and not worrying if they didn't perfectly get into a position straightaway. We did the frog, cobra, tree, pigeon etc. positions, and they loved them. :o )
Don't worry if she cried this time, she is so young and ot used to be alone with strangers. Next time everything will be more familiar for her.
I look forward to seeing the final performance. Although I would have loved to see it live!!
5:48 AM
I'm sure she'll get into it next week. It must be an adjustment for her to be in a classroom setting. I take a ballet class at the Y, and the class before mine is some adorable 3- and 4-year-olds. It's fun just watching them.
We got the CDs. Steve is still out, but I can put it on my new DVD player, cannot I? And watch it in bed while doing my Spanish homework. :o )
Thanks!
I don't think so - they're formatted for Windows Media Player on the computer, not a DVD player. :(
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