Ballet Blues

The Lone Star Baby really enjoyed the ballet class we signed her up for this past summer and her teacher was the same amazingly fit woman who was my teacher when I was four, a woman who really knows what she is doing in regards to music and movement for young children. I could immediately see a difference in the Lone Star Baby's vestibular issues and knew that signing her up had been a great thing to do. Then came fall registration. The classes being offered for her age group in the fall are on weekday afternoons - far too early for us to be able to make it after work. No evenings or weekends for her age group. I was so disappointed. I knew we'd be able to go back in the summer and that next fall it is likely that the next older age level will be in the evening, but that still leaves this school year.

To bridge the gap, I signed the Lone Star Baby up for the little TippiToes class at our neighborhood recreation center. I knew she wouldn't learn any real ballet in it and that it wouldn't be good for her in the way that the other class was, but I figured it would keep her happy until we can go back. This company mainly takes these little "dance" classes to daycare centers and recreation centers and I thought it would be just all in good fun. It meets on Monday evenings right before we go to PJ story time at the library, so we rush out at the end and she goes to story time in her ballet clothes instead of her PJs. That part would be okay.

The class is scary, though. The two women who run it really seem to enjoy themselves and they are as sweet and as patient as can be with all the little girls, but...oh...my...heavens. The perkiness and the pinkness of it all just about drives me to homicide. I'd need duct tape if I was taking the Lone Star Girl along. The teachers basically play kiddie music and demonstrate - with great enthusiasm - a variety of motions to the music that the kids try to emulate. It sounds innocent enough, but it is scary. Really scary. They sit around in a circle and take turns saying who their favorite princesses are sometimes. The teachers get scared because an alligator is coming as an intro to one of the songs, but it's okay because it is a pink alligator. There's a song about putting on their make-up. They are all about sparkles.

Pretty much it makes me want to puke.

My feminism has silent screaming fits throughout the entire 45-minute period. I look around to see if the other parents are scared and they look charmed and happy. I feel guilty for not just enjoying the fun that my daughter is having. I feel guilty for exposing her to all that perky pinkness. I don't know how to feel.

I can't wait until summer when we can get back to the ballet school. They had better have a 6pm kinder dance class next fall...I can't take much more of this.