My Heart was Stolen by ZagDancers, But I Don’t Want it Back
After weeks of preparation, the day had finally come. A crisp autumn breeze bit our rosy cheeks and sent a shiver down my spine, adding to my nervous quaking. Exchanging encouraging glances, PJ, Erin, Mikaela, Whitney and I waited silently, gazing down the tree-lined street. I removed my arms from their warm tucked position under my armpits just long enough to review my notes one last time. Glancing up, a yellow blur whizzed by in the distance, growing clearer as it approached. The bus was here, buzzing with the energy of over 20 fourth and fifth graders. Some pressed their noses to the tinted glass windows while others waved vigorously, and the most daring let out excited whoops. Oh, to be young, curious, and possess such an unbridled zest for life! As the bus screeched to a stop by the curb and the doors opened with a whoosh, we heard the kids before we saw them.They emerged from the vehicle like ants darting their way to a sandwich dropped on the floor, forming surprisingly orderly lines as they chattered about a wide range of subjects. Within thirty seconds, the conversation had shifted from stingrays to Pokémon Go. The pounding in my chest slowed as their easy-going conversation continued. Within a minute of our meeting, they were already relaying biographical details such as places they’ve lived and past trips to Disneyland. Many of the children had moved frequently, which was unsurprising as research reveals that many families in the Logan area are transient. One particularly adorable little boy looked up at me with his bright blue eyes. A grin stretched across his chubby porcelain cheeks as he informed me, “I’ve taken five dance classes, but my girlfriend hasn’t taken any.” Suppressing a giggle, I responded seriously, “That’s too bad! What’s your girlfriend’s name?” His smile got bigger and he said, “I kissed her the other day but she didn’t know because her eyes were closed.” What a dapper heart-breaker! Sharing an amused glance with my colleagues, I opened my mouth to respond, but it was then that PJ raised the Zagdance sign in the air and our sprightly gaggle began the trek to the dance studios.
Founded in 2002, Zagdance is an after school program in which the Gonzaga Dance Program partners with Spokane Schools to provide free dance classes to fourth through sixth graders on free and reduced lunch. While bringing these children an experience they may not otherwise have, students in the Strategies for Dance Instruction class reap the benefits of field experience. This valuable practice helps develop adaptable,confident, and considerate dance teachers that recognize all their students as people with infinite worth.
Next. we arrived in front of the studio. Mikaela, an education major, put on her elementary teacher cap. With firm and witty charm, she explained that the children must be quiet and respect the space before entering. Like little mice, they scrambled to the cubby room and quickly removed their shoes and stowed their items away before sitting in an attached classroom for snack. One precious little girl was vision impaired, and warmth spread through my chest as I watched her peers help her find a spot for her shoes and cane. Another little girl, who I learned later had only just befriended her on the bus, approached me matter-of-factually and asked, “Are you going to use the projector? Because if so, my friend is going to need to sit in the front.” As we discussed what the kids thought the rules for Zagdance should be, the darling girl raised her hand and said, “Respect differences.” Her peers nodded in agreement and my heart leapt seeing such accommodating, mature attitudes in ten-year-olds. This was quite consistent with the research on the age group we had conducted prior to this first Zagdance class.Psychologist Erik Erickson suggests that 10-12 year olds’ ability to learn, apply skills, think abstractly, and see larger contexts starts to increase, and their capacity to form moral values concomitantly expands. At this age, there is also an increased ability to interact with peers, so strong and complex friendships and group identities begin to develop.
After taking roll, discussing rules, and handing out an enthusiastically received snack of Goldfish, we asked the children some pointed questions about their emotions going into dance class. Most said they were excited yet nervous due to unfamiliarity with dance classes and studios. Doing a new activity in a foreign place with strangers watching is most definitely unsettling and would have caused my perfectionist, introverted fifth grade self to break down. However, this group was extremely open and willing to talk about their emotions and ways that they manifest in their bodies, like shaking and sweaty palms.This conversation was extremely helpful in discerning how we could best support our students and strengthened our bond. One particularly exuberant child who had nicknamed us “Apple,” “Kale,” “Pajama,” “MK,” and “Mrs. White,” forgot what he was going to say but remarked, “I just wanna say, I love you guys. Peace.” With that, we were ready to enter the studio.
After a warm-up and splitting the large group in two, a lesson on Place and Level ensued. Swallowing hard, I turned toward the class with a grin and explained the difference between self and general space before leading a related exercise. Erickson’s observation that 10 year olds are more focused on being responsible, doing things right, and earning recognition definitely rang true here. Giggles escaped as they followed my instructions to twist in self space and gallop in general space, to float in self space and flick in general space, and so on. They expertly followed my advancement of the exercise by instructing them to gallop in general space at a low level, or to shake in self space at a high level. Extremely creative interpretations ensued, with one student even twisting their tongue. I stopped focusing on my delivery for a split second to just take in the scene and appreciate the power of concept-based learning. I shuddered at the memory of my feet being torqued into first position at five years old for plies in baby ballet. Later in my dance career, I remember being paralyzed by indecision and lack of ideas when a song was turned on and we were told to just “improv.” Being allowed to explore concepts on my own accord as opposed to being taught steps right away would have aided deeper learning and memory and confident improvisation skills. I sighed contentedly as I saw these abilities begin to develop in the children while they tested their balance and coordination.
As students began to filter back into the classroom after a brief bathroom break, one dancer approached me and shyly remarked that he was afraid of the mirror. As someone who had grown up in a studio with mirrors, this was a shocking revelation. I quickly reassured him that we should not look in the mirror too much when dancing anyways, as we cannot do so during performances. Thinking about this poignant interaction later, I realized that these kids are likely going through puberty and swelled with pride at their attempts to be vulnerable and engage in physical activity in front of a mirror despite the body insecurity that commonly develops during this time. Perhaps this explained why another child, who was a bit bigger than the others, would often sit off to the side as activities were explained and would only engage after he had watched for a while. It was not surprising that he replied that he preferred self space when asked whether he liked self or general space better during our cool down. Another cute post-bathroom break interaction ensued when a few children asked me what the ballet barres were for. I took this opportunity to explain that we should not hang on them, and began demonstrating some ballet barre exercises to illustrate how they are used. One girl, who looked a lot like a young Misty Copeland, stood behind me and began to mimic my movements.
Before we knew it, the bus arrived. Waving to the kids as they boarded the bus shouting their goodbyes, a sense of contented satisfaction zinged through my limbs. In a matter of an hour and forty-five minutes, my lifelong sense of inferiority surrounding my ability to interact with and teach younger people was broken down. Young children weren’t scary after all. In fact, they are cute, intelligent, friendly, and accommodating, and one will never run out of things to talk about with them. This feeling of accomplishment seeped into the following week. And I still can’t stop thinking of those lovable blue eyes and little chubby cheeks.