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

  Jealousy is almost always a big part of sibling relationships. Especially when kids are young, it’s hard not to be jealous. Whether they are the oldest, youngest, or middle child, everyone is vying for Mommy’s attention. This can be a good thing because it drives them—it makes them push themselves harder and faster to come in first. There is a natural competition that already exists at home, so it’s easy to bring it to the dance floor. I’ve seen this with Maddie and Mackenzie. While the girls are supportive of each other, they also want me and their mom, Melissa, to be proud of them. If one wins and the other doesn’t, it’s a tough pill to swallow.

  I do believe, however, that the second child has an advantage. The first one knows how to say her ABCs. Little Sis might not know all her colors yet, but she can order off the yellow-and-red McDonald’s drive-thru menu! Why? Because she’s savvy—and she’s observant of what’s going on around her. I have come to the conclusion that in dance, the younger sibling begins at a younger age and therefore gets into the swing of things much quicker. In the history of the Abby Lee Dance Company, the younger sibling has often surpassed the competition records and the professional experience of his or her older role model.

  Except of course in the case of Brooke and Paige. Brooke was the Maddie of her time. She was winning everything, everywhere. She was cute and little and talented! Her mom, Kelly, carried her on her hip like a baby until she was ten years old. Where was Paige? I don’t know, maybe in the car? Those kids are only three years apart with a brother in the middle. Shouldn’t she have been one of the siblings learning by osmosis? My theory is that Paige was so pretty, maybe her parents didn’t think talent would ever really matter. Or maybe Kelly pushed so hard and sacrificed so much for Brooke that when the next kids came along, she was exhausted. Whatever the reason, some of the kids play second fiddle to the firstborn.

  * * *

  ABBY’S ULTIMATE ADVICE

  Three Key Points to Remember

  1.Life isn’t fair. Some people are naturally attractive, smart, and talented. I know that sucks for all the rest of us, but it’s a hard, cold fact—pretty counts!

  2.Competition is a good thing. It may stress you out, but it also makes you work hard, stay focused, and push yourself further.

  3.No one deserves to win. It isn’t your God-given right. Entitled you are not. You have to eat, sleep, breathe your dream—achieving one goal after another to reign supreme. Nothing your mom says is going to change that.

  * * *

  SECOND POSITION

  À LA QUATRIÈME DEVANT

  Everyone’s Replaceable

  Winning isn’t everything—it’s the only thing!

  —Henry Russell Sanders

  I DON’T CARE HOW GOOD your kid is (or how good you think she is). For every one of her, there are ten more girls nipping at her heels, waiting to take her place. That means she constantly has to step it up to stay where she is. We teach new things in every class. Dance is a constantly evolving art. I expect my kids to be on their toes!

  This goes for life as well. If we’ve learned anything from the economic mess the United States recently fell into, it’s that this is the rule. Companies can be downsized; people are disposable if some person or machine can do it better and easier and cheaper. Teaching your children this lesson early on will help them handle life’s little—and not-so-little—ups and downs with grace and dignity.

  Do your job. Do it the best you can. Do it right, because somebody, sometimes your best friend, is waiting for you to screw up so she can take your place. I am replaceable. I’m not the best dance teacher in the world. I’m not the only dance teacher in the world. I just feel like there’s always somebody who’s one step ahead of me. I go to bed at night with my head spinning, full of ideas and stuff to do to help my students become more successful. (But when some mom from Pittsburgh who knows nothing—who’s never been to a Broadway show, who’s never traveled to L.A. or stayed at the Beverly Hills Hotel or even been inside the Polo Lounge—questions my judgment? That’s like challenging my life’s vocation, lady! When I was a kid, my mom or dad dropped me off at my clarinet lesson, my drama classes, or the roller rink. What happened to paying the professional to do her job? What happened to entrusting the expert with your child? What happened to respect?)

  During one of the episodes on the show, one of the girls—Payton—got hurt in the wings literally three minutes before going onstage. The paramedics had to come, put her on a gurney, and wheel her away. We pulled the kids away from the entire situation, and they reblocked the spacing and then went out and danced. They won their division, and then they won the high score of the entire day at the competition. I told my kids, “See, Payton was replaced by nobody—do you realize how easily Payton was replaced?” Some kid piped up and whined no one replaced her and I said, “That’s right, we didn’t need anybody to replace her—get it?” The lightbulb went on in their pretty little heads. They understood in that one defining moment that they were all replaceable. I truly believe that if you aren’t on your toes every minute of every day, then you will be replaced. And even then, you may be anyway.

  Dear Abby:

  We left our dance studio a year ago to go to another one, but now my daughter is bored and wants to come back. I hate begging . . . what should I do?

  You don’t have to beg. You might just have to pay up front in full. Nobody will want to take another chance on your child after she went to a competing studio. You’d be surprised. But all dance teachers are running a business, and we have to look at your child as a paying customer.

  Abby

  BEHIND THE SCENES

  Elton John’s Oscar Party and Jennifer Lawrence

  While I’ve lost track of the number of battle wounds I have suffered dealing with all the mama drama on Dance Moms, I’m grateful for all the good things that have come my way. Today we can be seen in most every American family’s living room, and our show airs in thirty-two other countries. Just imagine me screaming in all those different languages! I am thrilled that so many more children are taking dance lessons because of me and the ALDC. Many more people know about dance now because of the show. One year we were in a limo headed to Elton John’s party while Jennifer Lawrence was on the red carpet at the pre-Oscar festivities—talking about Dance Moms! Our phones were on fire, jumping and buzzing out of our hands, because everyone was watching the live Oscar telecast at home on TV and calling to tell us that she had mentioned Dance Moms. One time I was able to take my entire senior company to the Teen Choice Awards. It was a special treat, a gift for them. For a bunch of kids from Pennsylvania, that’s a big deal. And I’ve got to admit that seeing my face on a billboard towering five stories over Hollywood Boulevard was surreal. Pretty damn good for a middle-aged dance teacher from Pittsburgh.

  TAKE YOUR WORK SERIOUSLY

  I think a lot of parents who have their children enrolled in a dance class look at it as just a hobby or an after-school activity—something they can take or leave. To dance instructors, it’s way more than that. It’s what they do, it’s what they love, it’s their job, it’s their livelihood, and they take it most seriously. Parents should think of their monthly tuition payment as an investment. It may be a nominal amount for a recreation class once a week, or a hefty chunk of change for a serious dance student. Either way, you are paying for a service, and you should make sure you are getting your money’s worth.

  I have thirty-three years’ experience in the business. If I were a math teacher at a public school, I could retire with a pension and benefits for the rest of my life, but rats, I chose to be a dance teacher because this is what I love to do. I expect my students and their parents to love it too. Children should certainly enjoy the activity and have fun during their time at the dance studio or ball field or gym or basketball court—wherever they are—but they should also show you what they learned, they should practice at home, and they should improve each month.

  NOTE: Don’t ask if you have to pay for the lesson whe
n your child was absent. Dumb question—of course you do! The teacher was there, the building was open, the lights were on, and all the bills still need to be paid.

  A dancer’s life is often short lived, while golfers can compete well into their sixties. At the same time your peers are preparing for college, you are preparing for your career. Some kids change their majors two or three times, others switch schools—moving from state to state. And even after graduating, many young men and women work at a couple different jobs before getting their first big job that pays well. My kids get their first big break right out of high school. While your friends are trying to find themselves in college, you are getting a paycheck, week after week. Your four years of high school training with the Abby Lee Dance Company are intense in the dance world. This is why it’s really important that the dancers and their parents take this very seriously and why dance instructors take their jobs so seriously. Unlike most job-fair options, your chosen profession is fast and furious. You’re going a thousand miles an hour on Day One.

  Whether your child dances for me or tumbles for Béla Károlyi or plays for Juilliard, she will be representing an institution, and everything that’s gone into building that reputation, every time she performs, competes, or just introduces herself. She will have to ask herself, “What is appropriate behavior?” And you, the parent, will have to help her develop confidence and good manners (more on this later). She’s going to be part of something bigger than herself. My students work hard to earn the red Abby Lee Dance Company jacket, and they better act appropriately or they don’t get to wear the jacket anymore. There’s no smoking, no drinking, no swearing, and certainly no slouching when you are wearing my name across your back! When you are representing me, it’s decorum at all times and proper etiquette always applies.

  Dear Abby:

  Because my eleven-year-old daughter has excelled at dancing, her teacher has moved her up to a team with older girls who talk about boys a lot and are texting constantly. I don’t want my daughter to be exposed to this stuff at such a young age. What should I do?

  This is something you really can’t control. If your daughter needs to dance with these kids, she needs to bond with them, and she’s certainly going to be in the dressing room or in the studio lounge as well as in rehearsals with them. You can’t protect your child from the big, bad world. Make sure her friends at school and in the neighborhood remain the same age as your daughter. Don’t “OK” the movies or football games with these dance teens in front of the Friday night lights. I think you need to instill good values in your child at home that she will carry with her the rest of her life. You can’t take the kid out of the bad—you have to take the bad out of the kid. Hopefully your kid is a good one who’s not going to be led astray.

  Abby

  PULL YOUR OWN WEIGHT

  On the junior elite competition team you see on TV, there’s one little girl who’s outstanding and can carry the group numbers most of the time. Choreographically we create formations so that the judges’ eyes go to her. Whether she’s in a different color, or whether she does a solo-turn section while everyone else is posing, the judges can’t take their eyes off her!

  I feel like some of the kids on the TV show aren’t pulling their own weight; they’re letting someone else do the dance for them. We have to put pressure on them to make them realize that on a team everyone is important, even if you’re the kid in the back or the kid on the end, because some judges’ eyes might look your way. If judges happen to be in the balcony, they’re going to look for the precision in the formations and everyone on the team as a whole. This is why it’s so important for everyone on the team to be at the same outstanding technical level.

  We all know when someone on the team isn’t giving her all. Why the rest of the girls don’t say anything, I’ll never know. They don’t bicker among themselves—they’re nice and polite at all times. They really love one another. They’re just starting to hit those tween years and that teenager stuff, so the mean girls might begin to surface. Some of the moms are starting to realize that I have a problem with the fact that all the kids get the same stipend whether they win or lose. Last season, Maddie had seventeen solos and Paige only did one—go figure. This goes back to life isn’t fair: Maddie works her butt off and gets the same stipend for the show as the other dancers who don’t work nearly as hard. Money is a motivator; if the network gave out bonuses for every win, maybe every kid would win.

  I run my dance teams that are not part of the reality TV show, but a part of my reality, very differently. It’s my job to teach them a lesson! I call out each student, making her perform a group routine by herself in front of her peers because I know she can’t. Then when she stops and forgets the next step and everybody in the number is looking at her, it’s embarrassing. No teacher enjoys making a mockery of a child, but sometimes I’m left with no other option. Sometimes, instead of taking the hint and practicing, the child just quits. Regardless, her parents still have to pay through the end of the year.

  Dear Abby:

  What should the rest of us moms do about another mom who never shows up on time and never helps with “team stuff”?

  Either you evenly distribute her weight among the other moms, or you feel sorry for the child and you take on her parent’s responsibility, or you can quit putting up with the freeloader and lobby the other mothers to pitch in to cover the child’s tuition, as long as the teacher throws her out. You can’t expect the teacher to throw her out and lose money.

  Abby

  BE HUMBLE

  As a dancer, or any kind of “star,” you have to be humble and you have to be easy to work with. You have to be approachable. The coach wants you to be a good role model and a leader other dancers can look up to. Being humble is admirable, but you can’t be embarrassed about winning either. You can’t take the trophy and hold it down by your side so that no one will notice it. The people who own and run the competition want you to jump up and down and be excited about winning. There’s a very fine line between being humble, or modest, and embarrassed. We want you to be proud. We want you to be happy that you won—you worked hard—but you can’t get cocky, nasty, and rub it in anyone’s face.

  You got an A on your algebra test. Good for you. There are lots of other kids getting As on their tests too. What makes you any better? What makes you stand out from the rest? If you truly want to excel and be better than everyone around you, you have to push yourself further or have a coach who will do it for you.

  Some kids just aren’t confident, they have low self-esteem and they question their abilities. I find that the kid with balls, the kid with tenacity, the kid who’s going to go into that audition and work her way to the front and who says, “I’m the best one and you have to hire me,” often doesn’t have the talent to back it up. There, on the other side of the room way in the back, is an awesome dancer with an adorable look and all the right moves, but she doesn’t have the confidence, the guts, or the diva attitude. That is hard to teach—believe me, I’ve tried. You just hope that one day that kid will realize if she doesn’t push her way to the front, she’ll never be seen. If kids don’t risk getting shot down, they’ll never know what it’s like to stand tall. If they don’t put their heart out on the platter, they’ll never know if someone’s going to love them.

  When I have a dancer who is full of herself (I don’t have to explain that, do I?), I’m quick to point out her flaws. She needs to be knocked down a few pegs. Like that dancer who won the first-place overall high score three times in a row, kids can get cocky and start to think, “Why do I have to rehearse?” Sometimes I make the kid rehearse something on her bad side in front of everyone on the spot. I have been known to call on her to tell me the proper term for a dance step. And if she happens to get lucky naming the correct ballet step, I make her spell it. Ha ha! You want to make her look like a jerk in front of her peers to bring her back to reality. This is where the tough love comes into play. We are not dealing with novices. I
am training budding professionals.

  I want my dancers to be fabulous, fierce, and famous. I also want them to be kind, humble, and confident enough to book the job, get the job, and keep the job. I want my dancers to be nice enough that others want to work with them again and again. Be humble!

  Dear Abby:

  My daughter wants to quit dancing and play soccer instead, but her teacher and I believe she has great potential as a dancer. What would you suggest we do to encourage her to stick with dancing?

  Is she a good soccer player? Does she have college scholarships lined up? Could she go pro? Or is the soccer thing just something that’s happening with friends at school? Once you start something and sign up at the beginning of the year, you have to follow through till the end. Maybe let her play soccer and get kicked in the shins a few times and she’ll wise up and won’t want to do it again next year. However, don’t stop the ballet classes. Keep her in at least some dance classes once or twice a week while she dabbles in soccer. Eventually she will come to her senses.

  Abby

  LEAVE WHEN YOU’RE ON TOP

  By leave when you’re on top, I mean exit gracefully—don’t beg for another chance, and don’t make a spectacle of yourself or have a temper tantrum. Just exit stage left. Know when your parade has come to an end and when it’s best for everyone concerned that you step out of a particular situation. Like the dancer whose mom has had one too many altercations with other people, you need to understand when it’s time to get out.