Adventurous April

Monday, February 18, 2013

Getting Schooled by My Child

I am the mother of ballerina.  The last ten+ years of my life have been spent as a "Ballet Mom," which is a pretty far cry from a "Dance Mom" in my opinion.  Ballet is my daughter's passion.


This month she tried out for the summer intensive at Ballet West in Salt Lake City with two of her best friends from the studio.  The intensive is MUCH more popular this year due to the CW reality television show, "Breaking Pointe," which features the dancers of Ballet West.   The parents were concerned going in that it was going to be much harder to land a spot this year, but you support your children's dreams and hope for the best.


We braved winter weather and roads to get to the audition.  One of the girls, Mary, was suffering with tendinitis.  My daughter was sick with a nasty cold.  We worried.  Would they do well?  The auditions are closed, so we had no idea how things went.  All three girls felt they did well, their abilities falling in the middle of the pack.  They critiqued one another, and felt good about their chances.  We braved the roads a second time to go home, and then the waiting began.


On the 15th I received a phone call at the dance shop from one of the other moms.  I could barely hear her over the heartbroken sobbing of her daughter in the background.  Then I finally made out what she was saying - "The other girls made it, but Bailee didn't."  Punch in the gut.  Tears came to my eyes.  Mary was crying in sympathy for her best friend.  It touched my heart, and I felt felt terrible.  I knew how much Mary was depending on rooming with Bailee.  They'd made so many plans together!  I didn't want Mary's joy turned to sorrow this way.  Then a text came from Aleks - "I feel like a jerk!"  Their love for my daughter had trumped their success.  Not much like what you see on "Dance Moms" according to what I've been told. 


My thoughts turned to my daughter, too far away to gather into my arms and comfort.  Was she in tears?  She had class in less than an hour.  Could she face that?  My inner mama bear roared to the surface.  I don't have any illusions about my daughter's skills when it comes to ballet.  I've spent too many years working at the studio and seen too many dancers.  She was as good as Mary and Aleks.  What the heck?!  Even the studio owner was stunned.  She'd thought Bailee would be certain to get in.  Why had she been cut?  Size?  She's only 5'2" ... but Aleks is the same size.  Skill?  Mary swears she nailed every combination thrown at her immediately.  She danced as well as Mary had ever seen her dance.  Age?  She's 4 months older than Mary.  Then the ugly demon rears his head ... was it because she was Asian?  Man, I hate that mama bear!  She was so angry, so irrational!  My hands were shaking as I dialed our home phone number (raging about why my family had not IMMEDIATELY called me when the e-mail arrived).  And I found ...


Total acceptance.  My daughter was fine.  Happy for her friends, no bitterness, no tears, no drama.  Mama bear was at a loss.  "Are you okay baby?" Her answer blew me away:   "I'm fine with it.  God just decided that the answer was no.  There has to be a good reason, and I'm okay with that."  She bounced off to dance like it was any other day, determined to share her friends' success and let them know it was okay to be happy about making it, even if she didn't.   Um, how did I manage to raise a kid with faith like that?  Especially when I was struggling with accepting this verdict and tears were streaming down my face?


Later that night, we talked about it.  She admitted to having a bad, dark feeling after she got home from the audition.  It just didn't feel right anymore.  She hadn't wanted to say anything because we'd sacrificed so much to get her to the audition (including driving through a blizzard).  Now I wonder if the rejection didn't verify those feelings as coming from her Father.  "Not now little one.  You won't know why, but I know best.  For now, the answer is no.  I love you, and I'm guiding your life and protecting you." 


She's still fine.  Still happy.  Still supporting her friends as they prepare for their great adventure.  My inner mama bear still growls from time to time.  I want all her dreams to come true, but I also want the Lord to watch over her and keep her safe.  This time, mama bear can't have it both ways.  My daughter is schooling me about acceptance.  The lesson isn't coming easily, but I'm hoping that eventually I'll be able to just drive that bear away, dry the tears that still fall sometimes, and accept what my daughter already knows - God knows best, even when He says no.


She'll go to her usual summer intensive in Pocatello, and she'll have an opportunity to work with teachers from around the U.S.  She'll love every second of it, and love sharing the experience with Mary and Aleks.  When they head off to Salt Lake in July, we'll pursue something else for Bailee.  She'll still be dancing ... or at least will be when she isn't texting her best buddies in Salt Lake and cheering them on.  Maybe next year it will be an experience they'll be able to share.  God willing ...