Humbleness and New Dreams

As a child, I loved to dance. It made me so happy to do something I loved. And ever since my first year at University of Oregon as a Dance Major, I’ve felt humbled whenever I enter a dance studio.

During my high school years, all I ever wanted to become was a professional dancer. I wanted to move to L.A. or Manhattan to follow my dreams and break into the entertainment industry. Mainly, I fantasized being in music videos, touring and dancing with famous singers (Janet Jackson or Madonna), or dancing on Broadway!

Dance was on my mind 24/7. I danced all the time. I would dance every chance I had free time. I danced in the hallways. I danced outside the dance room while waiting for my dance class to start. I danced at home. I danced at my dad’s workplace. I would even break into dance in retail stores and grocery stores.

If I was riding with my parents or traveling in a car for long periods of time, I would listen to my music and choreograph or go through dance routines in my head. I still do it to this day. 

There were two people who really inspired me in my pursuit of dance. First, my then amazing dance teacher Mary Matthews, second, a friend of my dance teacher, Duane George. He’s a choreographer and worked with Janet Jacket and Michael Jackson. He trained and studied with Debbie Allen and Alvin Ailey.  And to me, he was the most amazing person I met at age 14. He would visit our high school to hold workshops each year and teach 3 one and a half hour long jazz/hip hop dance. I would take all three of them.

My love of dancing throughout high school gave me a reason to dance harder and to reach for certain goals. I was determined to become a member of our high school Dance Team. I tried out my freshman year and I was so devastated when I didn’t make it. So I tried again my sophomore year and I got in! I was ecstatic! From then on I was determined to become one of the Captain of the Dance Team. I did just that.

What was next on my list? I wanted to dance my best and impress all of my peers with my choreography, so they would vote for me to become Best Dancer of the Year at the end of my senior year. By then I was dancing almost 8 hours a day. This was made possible because I earned enough high school credits to graduate, so I ended up taking more dance classes on top of Dance Team practices, as well as dance rehearsals.

Near the end of the year and before prom, it was time for my high school’s annual dance show that was performed two nights a year. On the second night, our last show and my last show, the Best Dancer of the Year was announced. Most of us seniors stood with anticipation. All the votes were tallied and finally…

My name was announced. It’s such a cliché, but I cried. I was so happy, so excited, and so nervous! I felt so high and it made me cry. I felt on top of the world.

And then college happened. I got into University of Oregon and I majored in Dance. It was a culture shock to say the least. I discovered that I couldn’t JUST take any level of Ballet classes. I couldn’t JUST take any level of Modern (Contemporary) dance classes. I felt I earned the right to be in a higher level of dance class, because I was damn good! Instead I had to go to audition for a placement into an appropriate level of  dance class! It was nerve wrecking. I couldn’t properly do barre work to save my dance life and I ended up placing in Ballet I, Jazz I, and Modern II. 

It made me feel so low. I felt as if I was a nobody and I started doubting myself. I wasn’t the best of the best anymore. I was knocked down to the bottom. I didn’t know if I wanted to become a dancer anymore. On top of which, my mother wasn’t very supportive of the idea. She was furiously adamant that I invest her tuition money in becoming a computer programmer/web designer, since during summer I had developed an obsession for HTML and VRML and just designed web sites for fun.

I ended up switching majors. It was the “rational” thing to do for my future. Who cared about my happiness. I didn't know what was best for me. Asian parents, I tell ya... 

After a year at U of O, I dropped out of school. I moved back home and held my first job and ended up taking random computer programming classes at the local community college. Computer programming never really suited me nor held my interest; so instead, I decided to hold two jobs. My goal? Save enough money and move the hell out of there!

One evening and hopped up on Mt. Dew, I was chatting online with a friend and made a definite decision to move. In less than a week I would move to Portland! I was determined. No ifs or buts about it! I love my parents, but I wasn't going to listen to them anymore! (Well, at least when it comes to career and lifestyle choices.)  I packed what I needed and left. It felt exhilarating. It made me feel alive since my senior year in high school. Unfortunately, this feeling didn’t last long. But that’s another story for another time.

What I’m trying to drive at via this post is this: even though I gave up my original dream, I never stopped dancing. After I dropped out of U of O, I joined Mary Matthew's dance company and found other opportunities to dance and perform. When I moved to Portland, I always found opportunities to dance, whether at various dance studios or at Portland Community College. And each time I returned to the dance studio, I’d feel humbled and less arrogant than my asshole teen self.

I’d walk into a studio and watch dancers of all levels, beginners, intermediate, advance, and felt in awe. I still feel in awe! They’re all so good regardless of their level! Their determination is inspiring. Because of other dancers, if I felt frustrated in figuring out a dance move, I’d try harder. I’d “visualize" the dance move a million times and do it until I got it right.

Nowadays, I look at my dancer friends who now live in L.A. and I think, Wow! They got it right! They’re pursuing their dreams and that’s awesome! I can pursue my teen dream if I pushed myself!

But it’s not what I want anymore.  I have new dreams to pursue. This time, I won’t act like an arrogant teenager, who I’d probably like to backhand. However, I do have a lifelong goal. It's simple: To dance for as long as I'm alive, because it makes me happy. 

And I feel that I have fulfilled my childhood dream, just not my teenage dream, and I am continually fulfilling that dream . . . because I am dancing.