|
Dance
Lives On
An inspirational story of one dance teacher's struggle
after Hurricane Katrina
Thank you for your magazine, it brought joy
to me as we evacuated. Like so many others, my family and I
evacuated with only two days of clothes and I brought my laptop
that had my Goldrush stashed away inside.
I am the director of Metropolitan Dance
Theatre in Metarie, LA, and we were going to begin our season
the day the hurricane hit. I evacuated with my registration
cards because I needed to make class rolls! This little
hurricane would only delay our opening two or three days and I
had to be ready for all my dancers.
My studio is located ten minutes from New
Orleans and the breeched canal. We watched in horror over the
next 36 hours as we realized our lives were permanently changed.
I was blessed when walking through a Red Cross shelter in Lake
Charles, LA, and I came across a small ad for a dance teacher
posted on the bulletin board underneath piles of information for
FEMA, food stamps, and other crucial information.
The ad was placed by the Karen Ogden School
of Dance. She was urged by her church to give what she could
–and all she could offer was some temporary employment with her
studio. I was elated! She spoke to me over the phone, and four
hours later I was teaching 10-year-old ballet in her studio. It
was amazing – even though these were not my kids and it was not
my studio, it was so comforting to say "Close in fifth... heel
forward on the tendu... radiate with your arms."
I taught every class I could. This studio
was a Godsend! These kids were my angels. I had a purpose again
– I was important to these kids! Each and every one of them had
to introduce me to their mother as the "Refugee Ballet Teacher
from New Orleans". I taught them ballet, tap and jazz; barefoot
and in gym shorts. What a sight! Karen Ogden even gave me a pair
of tap shoes and ballet shoes. Thank goodness she did.
Upon my return to Metairie, I discovered my
studio had received damage from the storm. Part of the ceiling
had collapsed in, the front stoop had washed away, and the only
thing I really needed – the Marley dance floors in both of my
classrooms – had buckled up in three foot waves. I was
devastated.
I found pointe shoes that had turned blue
and green from mold, floating in standing water. I quickly tried
to figure out if I would have any students left. We set up shop
in the back of a beauty parlor 2 days a week. I was amazed. My
students were coming back. I figured dance would not be a
priority for people that had lost everything, but now, it was
more important than ever. People needed an escape.
I had always dreamed of having a school
that had advanced dancers holding their legs in a high developpe
a la seconde and noisy tappers discovering rhythm, but I never
dreamed I would have a studio that was a family. As it turns
out, people were looking for me on our radio stations, wanting
to make sure they could still have dance in their children’s
lives. I grew up working in my mother's dance studio, so I have
always understood the value of having dance and the arts in a
child's life, but I never thought I would be able to convey and
develop a deep appreciation in the hearts of my clients.
It has not been easy trying to recover from
this blow. I am blessed because several of my colleagues had to
give up their studios because they have lost either their homes
or schools, or both. Many other people do not think that this is
a priority in our community and they have laughed at me and my
profession. But I keep my copy of Goldrush in my laptop
and I know that there are more motivated and dedicated
professionals like me all over the country.
We are currently teaching in a dance studio
at a local high school and we are very close to being back at
pre-Katrina levels. The students are more motivated than ever.
Several of them had told me about their "other" dance studios
that took them in during their evacuation. It is proof that our
dance community is stronger than ever, and I am very grateful.
The Goldrush Magazine.
Subscribe now!
|
