I danced all the time as a child; long before classes were even an option. I’d turn on the music and star on the stage of my mind. It didn’t matter whether I was good or not. It never really entered my mind that it should matter. I simply loved to dance. What I could never have known at that time was that dance would give me gifts I’m still discovering decades later.
Looking back on my dance class experiences, as a child and as a teen, belonging was my holy grail. I loved dance, which is what brought me to classes, but having a community; friends who accepted me for my whole self was somewhat elusive. That kind of experience shapes how a person walks through the world. That desire to belong has influenced the core beliefs of Kaleidoscope Irish Dance & Movement Studio. We are community-driven. Interest in Irish dance is the catalyst to bring people here, but being connected to other like-minded people is what keeps them here. That I prioritize community and belonging is directly tied to my own childhood dance experiences.
When I started taking classes, Irish dance was my entrée into formal lessons, I was so proud! I remember my school teacher offering a chance to perform for the class and I pestered her; hopefully not relentlessly, but it’s possible as I was tenacious; to get a time set. It didn’t matter to me that I had to repeat jump overs hundreds of times in dance class because I couldn’t get them right; I was an Irish dancer and wanted to share that with others. In time though, that confidence got lost in the sea of other people’s judgement and the high demand for perfection from my dance teacher. What I didn’t know then, was that in that dance school competition was everything. He even went on to win the World Championships himself. My mother, however, had already withdrawn us from class because competition was not the right fit for our family. Kaleidoscope’s non-competitive orientation, interestingly, does not stem from this experience. Rather, our emphasis on pursuing a love of dance and learning did. Dancers are encouraged to keep working and improving, but not at the expense of their spirit. We face our fears. We diligently work to improve, week over week, month over month. And we delight in the progress we make. We measure success by resilience and persistence. Dancers develop confidence through being seen and having their efforts celebrated.
I’m old enough that mental health was not part of the conversation growing up. What research has come to show, and what I know now, is that physical movement is part of nervous system regulation. I danced when I felt stressed or wanted to simply go elsewhere. And in my mind, I was somewhere else. I had a full vision of the stage I was dancing on, even if my body never left the living room. My childhood self understood the benefits of dance intuitively. As an adult, I understand now what dance was doing for my brain all those years. It was my therapy. It was my meditation. It was my reset button. I just called it ‘dance.” Now I lead a dance space that facilitates the interconnection between social, physical, and mental health through dance.
My parents describe me as always having had a “yearning for learning.” Curiosity has long been a hallmark in my life. My first dancing experiences were in Irish dance and later Scottish dancing. Both had connections to my family heritage. Irish dance was the one that held and the one to which I returned as an adult because however vaguely, it was a way to understand my ancestors. As old-style Irish dance became my genre of choice, a new avenue of learning opened before me. History, culture, steps, community, and teaching coalesced into a full expression of the various pieces of myself. That connection has changed how I understand where I come from.
In many ways, dancing as an adult has healed many of the wounds I experienced as a child. When I danced for myself, it was uncomplicated joy. When I had to dance in class, it was performative and full of pressure. There wasn’t space to modify the pace to allow me to discover it. I didn’t dread classes, per se, but I didn’t find joy in those spaces. I persisted because I wanted to dance and those were the only options available to me. One of the studio goals is that people would find joy in their dancing as a sustainable motivator to keep them going. Dancers frequently express how much they enjoy coming to class; they look forward to it every week. That’s what dance should be.
With the title of this blog, most people would expect cheerful lessons from childhood that have carried someone through. And while I have positive memories of dance classes, they were never the transformative experience others have had. The short summary to that would be, I’m creating the kind of studio little me would have thrived in. I haven’t forgotten how much it matters to have teachers who care about you. I remember what it felt like to be excited to perform my steps. And I recall how difficult it was to never get it right. These memories and experiences shape the way the studio operates. The integration of play and community are deliberate because the steps aren’t enough. Dancing needs to be so much more than precise choreography.
As I’ve discovered old-style Irish dance and gotten clearer on the purpose of the studio, it has become evident to me that people need permission to be imperfect. They need to be allowed to make mistakes and learn without criticism. Dance should be a space to learn we are good enough and that actually be enough. This has liberated me in ways that I’m still discovering. The freedom to bring my whole self to dancing and to make space for others to do the same is the most fulfilling work I have done. When I stopped dancing in high school, I really didn’t think I would dance again. And then I started classes as an adult and discovered that love I had as a child. In building the studio, I am discovering the gifts of dance that I’d missed understanding the first time around and am appreciating it all the more now.
I will finish by saying, we are not a perfect studio, but we are a good one. We work to intentionally create a space of welcome that encourages learning and growth. Community is at the core of what we do because dancing is best done in the company of people who care. We recognize that dance is only one aspect of a person and we work to nurture the whole person in this space.
Hindsight isn’t always clearer than foresight and if you asked me to share these experiences on a different day, my reflections on them might have different interpretations. Or perhaps, I’ll remember some detail or anecdote that offers another perspective. It’s not always easy to be sure what it all meant when we are looking back. I can say with confidence that belonging, progress, and enjoyment are priorities for Kaleidoscope Studio.
Dance has become my home; the place where I find confidence, resilience, joy, and connection. I didn’t know what I was looking for; though it is one of the gifts you discover when you show up and move with your whole heart.
What might dance give to you?