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Everything I Learned about Life, I Learned in Dance Class Page 4


  When I was twenty-two years old, I legally took over my mother’s dance studio. Instead of thinking about turning this successful small business into a multimillion-dollar corporation, I was intensely focused on taking the art of dance to a whole new level. My goal was to produce amazing and employable dancers—not just amazing dancers. Trust me, there’s a huge difference between being a competition kid and someone who can earn a very nice living doing what he or she loves to do. That’s what I want for my kids. I want professionalism at all times, so why not train them to be little pros from the start? By the way they behave in class, at competitions, and during performances, they are representing me.

  I pride myself on the way I produce a show. Some may call it a recital, but that conjures up dreadful thoughts of tutus on a sweltering summer day in a blazing-hot high school auditorium. We present a dance concert similar to what you would see on Broadway. There’s a beginning, a middle, and an end, and it flows seamlessly from one scene to the next—the curtain never closes. At the same time, my kids are learning crucial performance skills: for example, never, ever hit a curtain, because the curtain has dust in it. “So what?” you might ask. The “so what” is that when someone bumps into a curtain onstage, it wiggles and all the dust falls on the sidelights, and guess what happens next? The lights start to smoke, which can make it look like there’s a fire. Before you know it, the audience is looking for the exits instead of looking at the dancers on the stage.

  My students also learn that backstage is a sacred place. Never talk, roughhouse, or even practice. You might distract the performer onstage. Get out of the wings. If you can see the audience, the audience can see you. There are many theatrical rules and even more theater superstitions: for example, don’t ever put your shoes on a bed or table, and never utter the words Good luck. All this protocol is preparing them for their profession. When dancers graduate from my studio, they are 100 percent ready for the entertainment industry. Other dance teachers don’t train their students to go on to a professional career in dance—it’s like a free-for-all backstage. If you are one of the leggy lovelies selected for the Radio City Christmas Spectacular, you’d better be on your mark. Six inches in one direction or another could cause you to plummet thirty feet to your death. Everything I teach is for a reason. Someday, when they’re working professionally, all these ridiculous rules will come into play. Abby’s kids already know what it takes to be a professional.

  Break a leg!

  Dear Abby:

  My daughter wanted the lead in her ballet company’s production of Nutcracker but instead is playing one in a large group of mice. She’s just devastated, and I don’t know what to tell her.

  Here’s what you say: “No one ever said life is fair.” Do not allow your kid to think she’s entitled to be the star of the show, the captain of the team, or the teacher’s pet. Make her understand that equality isn’t a given. Break it to your kids now: people will get things that you don’t. Your boss may one day pass you over for a promotion or fire your butt for no good reason. It’s okay to be disappointed. It makes you work harder and fight for what’s important to you. That said, as a judge, I look to the backline first—the kids farthest from the front of the stage. I do this because these dancers may not be as strong or as confident as the other dancers. In some competitions, you judge from the balcony so that you can see lines and formations changing. I think your kid should be thrilled that she’s in a group. The person in the back on the end should be as strong and talented and polished as the kid front and center. In other words, be the best damn mouse you can be!

  Abby

  * * *

  BEHIND THE SCENES

  My Favorite Dance Moms Moment

  When I was a young girl growing up in Pittsburgh, my dream was to get a puppy. Every birthday and every Christmas I asked for a puppy—it’s all I ever really wanted. But guess what? I never got one. I can remember imagining what it would be like the day my mom or dad would walk into the house with a box, and I would open the box and find a puppy in it. So that’s what made it particularly special for me when I gave Mackenzie a puppy on our 2013 Christmas Special show. While I never got the puppy I hoped for when I was growing up, I am grateful that I was able to make Mackenzie’s dream come true.

  * * *

  COME PREPARED TO DANCE

  The Rules of the Abby Lee Dance Company

  Grooming

  •We always want to present a polished appearance.

  •Hair must be up off the back of your neck and slicked away from the face in either a ponytail, a bun, or a French braid.

  •A bun is mandatory for all Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday ballet classes.

  •No jewelry is allowed, for safety reasons. Necklaces can break. Rings can fly off. Earring backs fall.

  •No baggy sweats. Neat dance warm-ups may be worn only until your muscles are warm. Young students may wear a sweater if necessary during the winter. Cover-ups must be worn to and from class. Never enter or leave the studio in only your dance attire.

  •Do not wear dance shoes outside. Wearing dance shoes outside ruins the sole and also tracks dirt, oil, and gravel into the studio, causing damage to the customized dance floors.

  Girls Dress Code

  •Solid leotard—Any style or material is acceptable, but refrain from purchasing busy patterns.

  •Tights—Ballet pink, black, white, light toast, or suntan are permitted. All Tu-Two Cute, Baby Ballerinas, and Prima Preschoolers I may use full footed. Intermediate Prima Preschoolers II need stirrup, footless, or convertible tights. Pink tights are mandatory for all Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday ballet classes.

  •No Tights—Bare legs are mandatory for Monday Legs and Feet/Jazz Class.

  •Hair—Long hair must be up and secured off the back of the neck for technique as well as prevention of injury to another dancer.

  Boys Dress Code

  •Pants—Black dance pants, sweatpants, or hip-hop pants.

  •Tops—Tucked in T-shirt or muscle shirt.

  * * *

  NOTE: All male students should be respectful of all the ladies in this building, as well as their property and the building itself. You are here on a partial tuition scholarship. Many of the girls are paying five times this. Your behavior should be exemplary at all times, and scholarship recipients should always work harder in class than anyone else. You will be held to a higher standard by all faculty members. The first time you are asked to leave a class because of your behavior, your tuition will be changed to the full price from the current Reign Dance Productions tuition rate chart.

  * * *

  Class Behavior

  We want all our students to have an enjoyable and educational dance experience. We will treat you and your children with courtesy and respect. We expect our students to show the same attitude toward their teachers and fellow dancers. We request that your children observe the following simple rules:

  •Pay attention to your teacher. Don’t talk with your friends during class! It disrupts the whole class and makes it difficult for the teacher to communicate with the students. Meet your friends before or after class for social fun.

  •Food and drinks are permitted in the den (our dressing room/storage area) only. Be careful—spills ruin the floors and food attracts bugs. You may have snacks in the den, but please dispose of your trash properly. There are breaks for water during shoe changes. Don’t even think about bringing a water bottle into the studio.

  •Do not pull up on or hang from the ballet barres. They can be pulled from the wall or you can get stuck in them. Barres are for balance and support. Come prepared to dance—attire, grooming, attitude, ambition, energy!

  Classroom Etiquette

  Reasonable rules and standards are provided to promote self-discipline. Students should arrive at the school with sufficient time to change into dance shoes to begin class on time. Students who arrive ten minutes after the scheduled class time are welcome to observe the class; however,
they will not be permitted to participate unless there is an extenuating circumstance. If students need to leave before the end of the class, they should notify the teacher before class begins. Students may not leave the classroom without first receiving permission from the teacher.

  Teachers have the responsibility to see that their class is under control, and they have the authority to dismiss any student who will not cooperate and is a disruption to the rest of the class. Inappropriate dress or behavior will not be allowed. No gum, food, or drinks will be permitted inside the classrooms during class or rehearsal.

  Your children are a reflection of you.

  Good manners and proper etiquette are always expected.

  SOME PEOPLE ARE BORN LUCKY

  My friend Sandy tells me all the time that I was born under a lucky star. I don’t know that I agree with her—I think I’ve had plenty of bad luck in my life, like locking my keys in the car while it’s running, or losing my cell phone when it’s dead, or getting two parking tickets in one afternoon. She may be talking about the times when she drags me kicking and screaming to bingo and then I win the grand prize. Or when the headpieces aren’t there in the box of costumes and I whip up something that’s ten times better than what we had to begin with. Or getting my own reality television show. Is there a star following me, or is it star quality? Do I really believe in luck? Maybe just dumb luck. Maybe it was all my years of preparation meeting this wonderful opportunity. I’m sure millions envy my success. Others may be blessed with good looks, or a great body, or a photographic memory—I was blessed with common sense.

  Some may call it luck—I call it destiny. I believe we are all following a script. Somebody’s master plan. My life itself is a dance that has been choreographed. I am just doing what I’m supposed to do. Now if everyone in my world did what they were supposed to do, there would be peace, or at least a few less headaches.

  It’s just a fact—some dancers are better than others. Is it because they’re lucky? I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not. They may have a particular facility—the perfect body, beautiful feet, or pretty legs. Maybe your kid is a little swaybacked, round-shouldered, knock-kneed, pigeon-toed, or bowlegged. Maybe she’s not super agile or athletic. That’s a problem, because the less natural, God-given talent a dance student has, the harder it will be for her to excel. Maybe she will have to develop a work ethic far superior than that of the girl who’s always at the top. And when I say hard work, I don’t mean just time. I mean blood, sweat, and tears. Literally.

  And it can all change. Through the years I have come to realize that some of the youngsters who start out so strong—who have the built-in tools to excel, and to win every competition possible—don’t always end up going on to a professional career as a dancer. But the child who doesn’t always win, the kid who comes in second or even third—the dancer who has to work really hard for every achievement—is more often than not the one who continues to persevere through the challenges and ends up in the spotlight as an adult.

  I can’t tell you who’s going to end up being an amazing dancer, because there are other factors that come into play, but I can tell you who should be an amazing dancer. It’s that kid with the natural turnout and flexibility in her back, strong shoulders and hyperextended legs with perfectly arched feet and the same measurement from the hip to the knee as the knee to the ankle. Is her rib cage distended or closed? Let’s not forget the looks. Adorable, stunning, exotic, interesting. All those things go into making a beautiful dancer, and I consider those kids born lucky.

  In Russia and Romania, they look for certain characteristics and body types in young children. When they find those kids with the perfect bodies for dance or gymnastics, they groom them to become the best, and the families of those kids receive benefits. I’m sure those parents consider themselves very lucky to have a child who was born with the right body type and was selected to become an elite athlete, because it’s their ticket to the good life. They’re supplied with a roof over their heads, an education, food, and the best training money can buy. I personally think that instead of trying out all sorts of activities to see what your child likes, it makes more sense just to find out what they’re good at. Let’s face it—kids like to be great. It would save parents a lot of time and energy if we borrowed some of the Romanians’ methods. Kids like things that come easily to them, that’s a given. When it stops being fun, do you bail? When a straddle split starts to hurt, when the girl next to you effortlessly lifts her leg up to her ear, or when your best friend starts beating you on a consistent basis, do you throw in the towel? Not so fast . . . this activity is not just part of your life; it describes you as a person. So you hang in there for a while.

  Some lucky kids have the natural ability that God gave them through their parents’ genes. But while these kids might all have the promise of becoming amazing dancers, they may not have a mom and dad who care about their dancing, fencing, or skating. They may not have the finances to pursue anything more than a one-hour class each week. They may not have the enthusiasm or the musicality to perform passionately. They may not care about excelling at anything.

  Then, on the flip side, that same kid with the great body for dancing might be really good at something else too. He might be a great athlete, or really smart to the point where he’s attending college at the same time he’s attending high school. So you know who should pursue dancing, but you don’t know if they’re in for the long haul. You can only guide them, and take an interest in them, and tell their parents that they “have what it takes” to become a great dancer, artist, athlete, or rocket scientist.

  Did your child arrive with the genetic makeup to become something fabulous, special, above and beyond the average? Then yes, absolutely, your child has huge potential to be a success story, and you would be crazy not to push your kid down that path!

  Believe it or not, when the TV show Dance Moms was originally cast, they didn’t choose my cream of the crop. They didn’t even look at my national title winners. The kids on the TV show did not audition. Their mothers were interviewed, and the show was supposed to be more about the moms than the dancers. The dancing was supposed to be about one-eighth of the show, and I was originally on camera only as a choreographer. With the exception of the short-lived Vivi-Anne, the kids chosen for the show were all students of mine from the age of two and a half, except one little girl who arrived in Season Two, and she had already been at my studio. She’s actually the only regular who had to audition. The other kids never danced a step; they submitted video of their best thirty seconds. Thirty moms were chosen from my studio to be interviewed for the show. Out of those initial moments on camera, they picked only five moms and one wicked witch.

  If you look at my computer, there’s a file folder on the desktop labeled “Pictures for John TV.” This was the original folder that I sent to that hot guy in L.A., John Corella, when he first mentioned his idea for a TV show. It’s a little scary to open that folder, for it contains the headshots of the girls who ended up on the show. He actually created the premise for the TV show Abby’s Ultimate Dance Competition first. That’s the show John and I wanted to do originally, but who was going to listen to us?

  And then there was the casting director who took all the credit for casting the five moms and their daughters when in fact we had already chosen the five moms. They sent in their own photos and videos from competitions and uploaded Flip-cam footage every night. There they were, ready to be filmed for the show when the casting director arrived. When this casting director made that claim, I said, “What do you mean, you cast the show? You came to Pittsburgh, you walked into my studio, and there were five moms and you put them on TV. You didn’t cast them. You didn’t go out and find them. They were sitting there waiting for you. You had appointments, and you were late.”

  The kids chosen for the TV show are all adorable and built nicely, but not one of them has the signature Abby Lee feet. When you look back at the history of the ALDC, I always had the pre
tty girls, the best-dressed girls, the well-behaved girls. However, my groupings always fit together somehow and made sense. For a few years it was the tall blondes who could turn and tumble. The next generation was four dark-haired debs with incredible flexibility. A few years later came an all-American, wholesome team of Trinas. But one thing remained the same: the look, the height, the impeccable technique, and the two-year age range.

  What were these producers thinking? Did any of them know anything about dance? What was I going to do with this team of misfit toys? Were they casting a new version of the Facts of Life TV show, or a competitive dance team? Some taller than others, some skinnier than others, some older than others, and some way better than others?

  Dear Abby:

  I think our dance coach is pushing our daughter way too hard. She’s only nine and the coach wants her to be on pointe this year. Not to mention in class with girls twelve and thirteen years old. I feel bad holding her back, but this seems like too much.

  There are lots of philosophies on beginning pointe work. The role of Clara in the Radio City Christmas Spectacular is for a child who is four feet eight or under. Not too many twelve- and thirteen-year-olds are under four feet eight. Girls that height are usually nine or ten. If your child is going to begin on pointe younger, like nine or ten, perhaps only fifteen minutes a week, after a ballet class, would be okay. Check with her pediatrician. In my opinion, nothing more than half an hour, twice a week.