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Defying Expectations: From Troubled Teen to Ballet Pro

My Unlikely Ballet Journey

I’ve shared my ballet story with a few people over the years, but I’ve never taken the time to write it down—until now. My journey into the world of concert dance is far from conventional, so let’s start at the beginning.

The Seed of an Idea

When I was in eighth grade, I wasn’t exactly on a promising path. My grades were mediocre, I was bored in school, and I had a knack for getting into trouble. My friends were juvenile delinquents, and my mother, understandably frustrated, wasn’t particularly happy with me at the time. One day, I announced to her, “I think I want to take ballet lessons.” Her response? “Ballet lessons? You can’t even spell the word ballet.” My mother had a sharp sense of humor, and her sarcasm was legendary.

But why ballet? Growing up in Columbus, Ohio, in the late ’70s and early ’80s, the city was a mix of white-collar professionalism and midwestern conservatism. While not uncultured—it was the state capital and home to Ohio State University—Columbus wasn’t exactly a hub for the arts. People from cities like San Francisco or New York referred to it as a “cow town,” and they weren’t entirely wrong. Vast fields dotted the landscape, some used for agricultural research by the university.

The dominant culture revolved around Ohio State football. Every Saturday, the town turned scarlet and gray. The fight song played incessantly on the radio, and fans flooded the streets. I was athletic and competitive, but I played football for just one year in seventh grade before deciding the violence wasn’t for me. Baseball held my interest briefly, but as the other boys grew taller and faster, even that began to lose its appeal.

A Misfit with Big Dreams

My parents were bright but not college-educated. Fortunately, they had moved to a neighborhood where many families were well-educated professionals—university professors, bank executives, even a CEO. Yet the culture of my surroundings didn’t inspire me. I wasn’t interested in going to Ohio State, joining a fraternity, tailgating on weekends, and earning a degree to settle in the Midwest suburbs.

At 13, I realized there was a bigger world out there. I was fascinated by the skyscrapers of New York. Despite my academic disinterest, I spent hours in the library devouring books about art, dance, and New York City’s cultural scene. I’d leaf through The Village Voice, learning about the New York Contemporary Art Scene. I knew I wanted to be a creative and live among other creatives, rejecting the path of corporate America, conservatism, midwestern suburbia, and most norms of any type. I was attracted to the creative world and it’s counter culture.

Two moments solidified my interest in ballet. First, I came across an article in Seventeen Magazine about a 16-year-old girl who had won a scholarship to the School of American Ballet in New York City. The idea of living on the Upper West Side and training in dance blew my mind. Second, my seventh-grade art teacher, Ms. Prince, took a liking to me. She was the “cool teacher,” and she encouraged my creativity.

Drawing Inspiration—Literally

I spent hours drawing, often recreating images from magazines. One day, Ms. Prince assigned me a project: draw Mikhail Baryshnikov from photos in Life Magazine. The images of him leaping through the air, seemingly defying gravity, captivated me. I didn’t yet know how he danced, but I wanted to move like that—to fly.

Eventually, my mother drove me to a small ballet school in a strip mall: the Wharton School of Ballet. My teacher, Hope Wharton, was a petite, energetic woman from Chicago with a passion for dance. She quickly recognized my need to release youthful energy and threw me into dynamic movements like pirouettes and tours en l’air. I was hooked.

A Natural Dancer

Before formal training, I had always danced secretly. Movement came naturally to me. In sixth grade I was recruited by two classmates, one male, one female, to perform in a talent show dance routine. The choreography was simple, but the experience was pure joy.

At the roller rink every Saturday, I skated to disco hits, and it felt like home. I could roll for hours. When I started ballet, everything clicked. Within a year, I performed my first pas de deux and a group jazz piece. I also began training at BalletMet, at the time, a semi-professional company in Columbus.

Stepping into a Bigger World

Realizing I needed more intense training, I auditioned for summer intensives—ballet camps for aspiring dancers. I landed at the National Academy of the Arts, a prestigious but financially unstable school in Champaign Illinois.. The Academy’s instructors hailed from companies like American Ballet Theatre, the Paris Opera Ballet, and the Royal Ballet. My technical foundation came from Robert Dicello, a tough, young, brilliant teacher who pushed us to our limits. His influence shaped my career and others.

By my junior year, I had earned a full scholarship to attend the Academy year round. Living in a giant old hotel with 70 other teenagers, I finally felt I belonged. Our instructors were mentors who taught us about life and art. Their influence shaped me in countless ways.

The Turning Point

By 18, I had decisions to make. After years of training, I wasn’t sure if I’d become a professional dancer, I also consider commercial art school, but I loved the ballet process. At an audition in Chicago for Pennsylvania Ballet’s summer program, I performed well enough to receive a full scholarship. Later that summer, the company offered me an apprenticeship—$375 a week, starting in late August for the next fall season. It was a dream opportunity.

But I had already accepted an apprenticeship with BalletMet, my hometown company. The pay was less ($125 a week), and I’d have to live in my parents’ basement, but the new BalletMet director, John McFall, inspired me. His choreography was athletic and dynamic, and I admired his vision.

I turned down Pennsylvania Ballet—a larger, more prestigious company—for BalletMet. It was a gut decision, and one of the best I ever made. Why? That’s a story for another time.

Stay tuned next week for Part 2 of my ballet journey.

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