Brit's Monologue
I’d tag along…Mom’d say, “Just sit there and be quiet. It’s Jenny’s turn to shine. Did you hear me, Laura? Don’t say anything. Don’t do anything. Just sit!” And I’d sit. The opening notes of The Nutcracker would come blaring out of the stereo in the corner and Jenny would take the stage. The Saute…the Arabesque… one, two, three, then first position…second … the Demi plie… the Grand Plie … then the other dancers… and the music, and the costumes and the turns and the turns and the turns and…. “Laura! Sit down! What are you doing? This is your sister’s dance lesson. I told you to sit and watch.” How could I? When your heart dances your legs can’t just …well, they can’t just stand there. “Am I going to have to leave you home next time? Look…everyone’s staring at you.” I didn’t know I was dancing right out onto the rehearsal stage. I didn’t see my sister stop in mid-leap to see her little sister do a pirouette into the arms of the leading male dancer. I didn’t see her cover her face and run off the stage. How could I? My dreams took control of me. I wasn’t in a moldy church basement, I was in the New York Ballet! Did everyone else see them? The lights, the costuming? Were they blind? And when your heart dances…..when begin to dance to the rhythm of your pounding heart, you can’t just….. “Laura. I’m taking you home.” “But Mama….” “Your sister is in tears.” “But mama….Mama!.......they’re applauding.”