I love to create. Even though it is a part of my job, it is not work for me. I enjoy the process of seeing my ideas coming to life. I enjoy giving my students a handful of seeds and watching as they grow those movements and intentions each class into their own unique way of expressing. I am an artist. I am not ashamed to shout that from the rooftops. I may not be Travis Wall or Mia Michaels. I am definitely not Bob Fosse or Martha Graham; but I am an artist, a choreographer, a grower of ideas and an ambassador of this great big world’s infinite creativity. I do not create for applause or accolades. I do not create to self promote or to become famous. I create because I am a divine inhabitant of the universe and I have a deep desire to give shape to ideas. Wow, does that sound deep?! Blame Elizabeth Gilbert; I just started listening to her audiobook (also available in print!) about creativity entitled Big Magic. Its incredible and inspiring and makes me proud to be someone who gets to create every day. I am a dance educator and I realize that my great work choreographing a dance for a group of eager 10 year olds to Disco Inferno is probably not going to get a write up in the New York Times or win me a Tony, an Emmy or an Oscar; but its a part of my life’s work. Its a part of my students’ life’s work and that matters to me. These young people are learning how to be artists from this work we do together and whether they become doctors, entrepreneurs, lawyers, custodians or choreographers themselves; they are learning to create, which is essential in this world.  It is important to me that the process of creating a dance is fun for them, that they see me delight in my work, that they see me play. It is equally important for them to see how I problem solve. When something is not going exactly right, I let them know that I am trying to decide if it is what I have asked them to do or if its the way in which they are doing it. Like most choreographers, I get up and do it with them, I sit down and watch, I move around the room, I scrunch up my face, shake my head, judge myself harshly, start over, pick a new song, go back to the song I originally chose, yell, yell “one more time” five more times, yell some more, and sit there and stare at my dancers in uncomfortable silence. But I also laugh with pure joy, squeal with delight, jump up and down like a child, fist pump, kick the air, scream “I love that!’, throw my hands up to the heavens saying “yes!” and yell do it “one more time” five more times (but this time its because I actually can’t wait to see it five more times!). It may only be a little dance to Disco Inferno but its magical to me. The dancers are magical to me. I am deeply aware of the love that is present. I am grateful. I am excited, disappointed, confident and full of self doubt at all times and I wouldn’t have it any other way. My goal is always for my students to consider themselves artists. I want them to see the creative process, I want them to be a part of the creative process. I want them to know that once the seeds have been planted, it is up to them to grow the ideas, movements, and the intentions. They bring the whole thing to life.  Last season I got to see one of the artists who I have the good fortune to call my student, perform a solo that she choreographed for herself.  It was to Strange Fruit by Nina Simone, a song for which I have immense respect; a song that is a risk.  The dancer performing this solo is African American.  She is beautiful.  She is strong.  And I had the great honor of watching her find her voice. She had something to say and she stood her ground unabashedly. Most teenagers are chasing the trophy, the medal, the super duper double titanium.  Not this young lady.  She is an artist.  I said to her through my tears “your realize this is a risk”.  Her response, “I know, I don’t care”.  It doesn’t get better than that.

I am a dance educator and I love to create.  I love to create dances where my students are snakes being charmed out of baskets, dances about love that has been lost, dances that bring storybooks to life and I love that I have the means to create opportunities for my students to find their own voice in this beautiful, artistic world.  This is my creative life and I am in love.

Gilbert, E. 2015, Big Magic-Creative Living Beyond Fear.  New York, New York:  Riverhead Books.