Everything I Learned about Life, I Learned in Dance Class Read online

  I cannot believe that I’ll be fifty soon. I have a while before I hit that frightening number, but it’s astonishing to me that I have been on this earth that long. I just hope I accomplish what I was put here on this earth to do. I feel I’m working on it, and I will continue to always do more and do it better.

  I love the idea of having a talk show called Abby Said! I hate to drop names, but I’m starting with Robert Redford and Barbra Streisand—on the same day on the same couch together. That would be surreal. Of course I would book Tom Cruise and John Travolta, providing they would do their signature moves on the show. I need to see John Travolta do that walk from Saturday Night Fever in the flesh and Tom Cruise slide across the stage in his underwear doing his routine from Risky Business.

  I wouldn’t book too many women, but Whoopi Goldberg would be a definite must, along with Broadway babes like Chita Rivera and Ann Reinking. I would want to interview Ben Affleck and Matt Damon together but without their wives. I want the scoop, the real dirt on what happened. And I would have lots of people from the dance industry.

  One thing I’ve discovered is that it’s a big wide world out there. I’ve been to Elton John’s Oscar-viewing party three years running and the Tony Awards three times as well. I’ve also been to the American Idol finals, the Teen Choice Awards, and the Emmys. Next on my list is the Grammys, and any other award show I can get into.

  That’s been a perk of the show that’s been huge. All the fans are taking photos of all the celebrities, and the celebrities want to take my picture because their kids watch the show. I have to give a shout-out to Jennifer Lawrence—congrats on your Oscar! On the red carpet going in for the awards ceremony she mentioned Dance Moms.

  I would also like to work toward getting dance back into the schools. It’s no secret that performing arts programs—from drama, to music, to dance—have been severely cut back or killed altogether because of budget concerns. Today everything is about getting the best test scores possible—the academics. But there’s more to life than academics, and cutting back on the arts is, I believe, doing a huge disservice to our children and to the future of our nation.

  I think every child should dance, boys and girls, whether they’re in private or public school. I think some kids learn differently and you get exceptional kids in the arts, and to cut all these programs, we’re going to miss out on youngsters who could have been great. They’ll end up frustrated artists with dead-end jobs with no hope of living out their passion in life. They’ll be doing something they hate when they should have been doing something they love.

  In America, most kids have a lot of freedom to choose what they want to do, and often they choose the wrong thing. They waste time and money, and end up being a failure even though Mom and Dad tell them that they’re fantastic. The kid who’s born with a perfect dancer’s body who should be a dancer may want to play soccer. That kid probably isn’t going to end up supporting his family as a professional soccer player. He’ll end up doing something else when he could have been a great dancer.

  I think it’s important to keep the dance programs in school, and for every child to learn how to dance and to experience live theater—to go to a show where people are performing onstage. It’s an education that will pay off for years to come, and it just might lead to the career of a lifetime.

  Wherever my future takes me, I know that success will follow. How can I be so certain? Because I always set my barre high and I refuse to give up and I will never back down. I will work harder than anyone else, fight harder than anyone else, and reach higher than anyone else—that’s one thing I can guarantee. It’s just the way my parents raised me, and I’m not going to change anytime soon.

  Something one of my best students, Katie Hackett, said about me sticks close to my heart. She said, “Everything that Abby wanted for all of us has happened for her.”

  It’s always been about my students, about turning them into accomplished dancers who could get a job at the highest levels of the profession. My own success is a reflection of their success. As I see my students go on to exciting, lucrative careers on the stage, and on television and in films, I know that I have done everything that I can do to help them along the way. I’m proud of them, and I hope they are now proud of me.

  It’s true: everything that I have ever wanted for my students is now happening to me. I can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings for all of us!

  I want all of my students to buy this book, but there are a few things I’d rather they didn’t know.

  The first would be that I fell asleep while seeing Elvis live and in person. This wasn’t some corny Elvis impersonator at some rinky-dink county fair; no this was THE Elvis Presley, in person in Las Vegas. We went to this swanky supper club that seats a thousand people. Of course my dad, the big spender, tipped the maître d’ way too much money so that we could get a table right down in front. I was about seven or eight years old and I certainly knew who Elvis was because of all his classics, which I’d heard at dancing school. “Blue Suede Shoes,” “Jailhouse Rock,” and “Hound Dog” held my interest for a while, but I think the hours spent in the hot desert sun combined with the heavy dose of chlorine from an afternoon dip in the pool took the swivel right out of my hips. After a few too many Shirley Temples, I had my head flat down on the table and was sound asleep.

  Now, if this had been one of my students, and her parents had paid a fortune for her ticket and she wasn’t watching every pelvic thrust the living legend did, I would have made her do a hundred push-ups, write a report on the evening’s events, and stand up to sing “Burning Love” in front of the class.

  The next night, my parents weren’t making the same mistake. They took me to see Debbie Reynolds’s nightclub act, and it was extra special because one of my mom’s former students, Albert Stephenson, was a dancer in the show. Seeing him perform is why we flew all that way; he was our excuse to go to Vegas in the first place. I remember how funny and fabulous Debbie was, and how dashing and debonair Albert was. He looked at my mom like she was the bomb. I saw the respect and admiration in his eyes, and I took note of the kind and gentle way he treated her.

  My mom had lots of male students in Miami, and they all seemed to be extremely successful. Albert was one of those employable dancers. While he was dancing on Broadway in the show Liza with a “Z,” he was often photographed by the paparazzi coming out of Studio 54 with Liza on his arm. He went on to do many shows. One of my favorites was A Day in Hollywood/A Night in the Ukraine. He also took on the job of choreographer. My mom was so proud of him when he was working on the TV special Night of 100 Stars.

  My connection to Albert led to many starstruck moments in my life. The first one happened immediately after the Debbie Reynolds show was over. We were ushered backstage to meet the cast and hopefully to have a photo taken with Miss Debbie. Albert arranged for my mom and dad to go with some of the dancers over to another opulent hotel on the Strip to see the Lido de Paris show. This was a standard showgirl revue, which meant it was topless—no kids. What would they do with poor little Abby? No problem! She will stay here in the penthouse suite reserved for the hotel’s headliner and Debbie Reynolds will babysit!

  The second thing that I’d prefer my students didn’t know would have to be the secret that I have held on to since it happened, until now. I hope this particular dance mom will be forgiving when she reads this. Here goes nothing.

  A cool, crisp winter day had me driving to New York City with Sandy and a bunch of kids. The kids outnumbered the seat belts in my Cadillac. So one of the very generous moms (whom I will call Barb) lent me her minivan. It wasn’t exactly my style, but what the heck. We got to New York with no problem. The kids were all safely in dance class, and Sandy and I headed to the garment district to find fabric, appliques, and probably feathers too. While we were there, we got a parking ticket for not having a noncommercial vehicle parked on Thirty-Eighth Street between Eighth and Ninth Avenues. We didn’t want to get another ticket, so I h
ad a brilliant idea. I called one of the young, unemployed dancers who happened to live with some of my employed professional dancers and asked her to come help us out. She was going to sit in the driver’s seat of the van, and if a cop came, she would just drive around the block. Well, our lookout never looked behind her, and sure enough, an officer walked right up to the back of the van and wrote us another ticket.

  Risk taker that I am, I figured that we’d already been given two parking tickets in two hours, so it couldn’t get any worse. We’d leave the tickets on the windshield and if anybody else came along, they’d see that we’d already been fined. That’s not exactly what happened . . . They towed the minivan!

  So we had to tromp all the way down to the impound lot where they had this woman’s vehicle captive until we paid the fines to get it out. Well, this is where the story really gets good. We didn’t have the registration card, and we didn’t know the license-plate number. We didn’t know the make or the model. For Pete’s sake, we couldn’t even remember what color the van was! At this point, we had two choices: laugh or cry. We took the high road and started to giggle uncontrollably. The kind of laughing fit you have in church. We tried to contain ourselves as we strolled through the massive garage filled with hundreds of cars, pressing the remote-control car keys. Simple plan: when we heard it beep and saw the lights flash, we would have found the correct vehicle. But the gig is up. When Barb reads this she might recall the odd phone calls she received from us, asking questions about her minivan.

  Every ALDC trip is educational. What did we learn from this experience? In New York, it’s cheaper to have your car impounded than it is to pay for parking!

  As an adult role model, I always want to appear in control. I want my students to feel safe in my presence. I hope they look to me with confidence and pride, and think, “That’s my dance teacher; she’s not taking any crap from anybody.” I want the boys I train to be perfect gentlemen and the girls to be empowered women who stand up for themselves.

  That’s why the third thing that I don’t want anyone to know is that I am deathly afraid of heights. I guess it all started when I was a little kid at the swimming pool with my dad. That ladder to the high dive went straight up in the air, perpendicular to the ground. I had to climb that ladder rung by rung. My dad was a volunteer with the swim team at our country club from around 1973 to 1976. And he remained active in planning and executing the Memorial Day opening weekend and the Labor Day closing festivities for many years after that. He loved the watermelon war, the coin toss, and of course the relay races. So diving off the high dive was kind of a no-brainer . . . for him! I think this is where my fear first started.

  I also freak out at the mall when little ones stick their heads through the railing to look over the balcony. I would never ride a Ferris wheel. I’m okay in an elevator, unless it’s made of glass so that you can look out and see the ground—that’s where I imagine plummeting to my death. I’m not one to easily step right onto a moving escalator either. When I was a little girl, I tumbled from the top of one all the way to the bottom. I spent years after that searching for the elevator tucked back in the corner of department stores. Even to this day, I have to give it two or three tries before I muster up the courage to take that step onto the escalator. I fear falling all the time. I know what it feels like to dislocate a kneecap. It feels like your knee flies across the room ripping every muscle and tendon in its path and you crumble to the ground screaming in agony. That was my experience anyway. Inside an airplane, I’m perfectly comfortable. Outside on the wing, I would panic. No aerial acrobatics for this choreographer. My head make be in the clouds, but my feet are planted firmly on the ground.

  NATIONAL TITLE HOLDERS

  Dance Educators of America—National Title Holders

  National Mr. Dance—Mark Myars

  National Miss Dance—Asmeret Ghebremichael

  National Junior Miss Dance—Allie Meixner

  National Junior Miss Dance—Jennine Wedge

  National Teen Miss Dance—Allie Meixner

  National Young Sr. Miss Dance—Ashley Kacvinsky

  National Young Sr. Miss Dance—Allie Meixner

  National Miss Dance—Ashley Kacvinsky

  National Young Sr. Miss Dance—Jennine Wedge

  National Miss Dance—Amanda Stelluto

  National Small Fry Mr. Dance—Izumi Presberry

  National Teen Miss Dance—Chelsea Shott

  National Mr. Dance—Jesse Johnson

  National Sr. Miss Dance—Jessica Ice

  National Small Fry Dance—Chloe Lukasiak

  National Teen Miss Dance—Brittany Pent

  National Miss Dance—Stephanie Pittman

  National Miss Pre-Teen Dance—Brooke Hyland

  National Small Fry Dance—Maddie Ziegler

  National Miss Dance—Brittany Pent

  National Teen Miss Dance—Payton Ackerman

  National Mr. Dance—John Fiumara

  And Over 40 Regional Title Winners

  Dance Masters of America—National Title Holders

  1992 Petite Miss Dance of America—Katie Hackett

  1993 Teen Mr. Dance of America—Mark Myars

  1994 National Capezio Excellence Scholarship Recipient—Mark Myars

  1995 Junior Miss Dance of America—Katie Hackett

  1996 National Capezio Excellence Scholarship Recipient—Mark Myars

  1998 Teen Miss Dance of America—Katie Hackett

  2000 Petite Miss Dance of America—Brittany Markle

  2002 Junior Miss Dance of America—Brittany Markle

  2002 National Algy. Excellence Scholarship Recipient—Brittany Markle

  2008 National Excellence Overall Scholarship Recipient—John Fiumara

  2009 Teen Mr. Dance of America—John Fiumara

  2010 National Excellence Overall Scholarship Recipient—John Fiumara

  2011 Mr. Dance of America—John Fiumara

  West Coast Dance Explosion National Finals

  2000 National Sr. Miss West Coast—Katie Hackett

  2000 National Teen Miss West Coast—Semhar Ghebremichael

  2006 National Jr. Mr. West Coast—John Fiumara

  2008 National Teen Elite Dancer of the Year—Miranda Maleski

  2010 National Sr. Elite Dancer of the Year—Miranda Maleski

  Sheer Talent—National Title Holders

  2013 Miss Dance—Nina Linhart

  2013 Miss Small Wonder—Brooke Kosinski

  Hollywood Vibe—National Dancers of the Year

  2013 Junior Dancer of the Year—Brooke Kosinski

  Starbound National Championship

  2012 Teen Miss Starbound—Katherine Narasimhan

  New York City Dance Alliance National Finale

  1995 Outstanding Dancer of the Year—Mark Myars

  Petite Miss Dance of Pennsylvania

  1991—Stefi Schlarman

  1993—Katie Hackett

  1995—Semhar Ghebremichael

  1998—Allie Meixner

  1999—Brittany Markle

  2008—Haley Greico

  2009—Maddie Ziegler

  Junior Miss/Mr. Dance of Pennsylvania

  1983—J. T. Shontz

  1991—Mark Myars

  1992—Erin Murphy

  1993—Stefi Schlarman

  1995—Katie Hackett

  1997—Rachel Kreiling

  1999—Koree Kurkowski

  2000—Allie Meixner

  2001—Brittany Markle

  2004—Kaitlyn Reiser

  2007—Nina Linhart

  2009—Brooke Hyland

  2009—Nick Dobbs

  2011—Chloe Lukasiak

  Teen Miss/Mr. Dance of Pennsylvania

  1994—Michelle Pampena

  1995—Stefi Schlarman

  1997—Katie Hackett

  1998—Semhar Ghebremichael

  1999—Rachel Kreiling

  2000—Ashley Kacvinsky

  2001—Koree Kurkowski

 
2002—Allie Meixner

  2003—Brittany Markle

  2004—Crystal Jennings

  2007—John Fiumara

  2008—Jesse Johnson

  2009—Brittany Pent

  2011—Brandon Pent

  Miss/Mr. Dance of Pennsylvania

  1988—J. T. Shontz

  1992—Jennifer Snyder

  1995—Heather Snyder

  1996—Mark Myars

  1998—Asmeret Ghebremichael

  2000—Katie Hackett

  2001—Semhar Ghebremichael

  2002—Ira Cambric

  2004—Allie Meixner

  2006—Jennine Wedge

  2007—Crystal Jennings

  2008—Amanda Stelluto

  2009—Kaitlyn Reiser

  2011—Nina Linhart

  2011—John Fiumara

  ARE YOU MOM ENOUGH?

  How Well Do You Handle Losing?

  Answer the following questions truthfully. Then see how you rate.

  1.You buy a Lotto ticket and miss the jackpot by one number. You:

  A.Scream, curse, and shove the ticket down the trash compactor.

  B.Buy a ticket for next week. There’s always tomorrow!

  C.Blame your husband for picking the wrong numbers. What the hell is wrong with him?

  2.Another mom is chosen to be class parent. You:

  A.Send her a nasty e-mail—how dare that bitch steal your job!

  B.Congratulate her and ask if there’s anything you can do to help.

  C.Demand a recount of the vote. Someone stuffed that ballot box!

  3.Your neighbor’s kid is playing Snow White in the elementary school play and your daughter got cast as Dopey. You:

  A.Switch schools: clearly they don’t recognize talent when they see it.