“Claire, I’m taking you to the auditions for Butler Ballet’s Nutcracker this Saturday.”
“OK,” she said happily.
That girl’s always game for anything, I thought.
“You too, Brooke. You’re in the age range and I think you’re under 5 feet tall.”
“Uh … I don’t think I want to,” said Brooke.
“Me either,” echoed Younger Sister.
… yeah, game for anything … unless Big Sister doesn’t want to do it.
I hesitated. Out of all of our kids, Brooke is the most shy and quiet. She’s content to stay in the background and, at the age of 11, quite self-conscious. Even around our own dinner table, her cheeks start glowing if the noise dies down while she’s talking. Thankfully for her, this doesn’t happen often.
As parents, Mick and I aren’t cemented in our personalities, but he tends to be the one pushing the kids and I’m more likely to give them a break. If it’s something I feel very strongly about, I’ll persevere, but in general, if it doesn’t have long-term negative consequences, I won’t be demanding on an issue. I try to consider their individual personalities, passions and quirks when trying to decide how best to handle a situation.
My first instinct was to go along with her. But then I remembered my conversation with Rachel. Rachel, who used to hold the title as the shyest, quietest Worley Kid. Who, at 13 and 14 years old battled nervousness weekly to the point of getting physically sick before playing at our small church. “You don’t have to do this; Pastor Mark will understand,” I told her on the way to church, while she kept her eyes shut and her pale face resting in the open car window. “She’ll be fine; it’s good for her,” Mick said.
And it turns out, it was good for her. The other day, after she finished her first full week at Butler, she said “I don’t know what I’d be doing with my life right now if it weren’t for piano camp and the competitions. I’m so glad I did that, even though it was so hard.”
There were also those other Worley girls I wrote about once who stepped into a new, demanding situation, pushed themselves and were better for the experience.
But those daughters were older and had different temperaments. What to do with this child? Push or give in?
I decided to take a chance and give her a nudge. So, I talked about all the reasons why trying out was a good idea and how it would be fun and no pressure, because these people would be working with young kids, and it would probably be just simple stretches and positions (I didn’t let on that these were just guesses - what did I know?). And because stubbornness is not one of her qualities, we found ourselves at Lilly Hall on Saturday, along with lots of other little Nutcracker hopefuls with numbers pinned to their leotards.
When we got there, our girls were very nervous and uneasy. They pressed themselves back against the wall in the crowded lobby and just watched everybody, not even wanting to stretch out. Meanwhile, I filled out their forms and then spotted a friend nearby whose daughter was auditioning and chatted with her, giving them some time to try to relax a little and get used to the place. Eventually though, I had to convince them that they needed to stretch out a little. So they finally did a little warming up, and then it was time.
When Brooke’s group was called, I squeezed around a window with a bunch of other nervous parents, taking in the scene. The audition room was huge and mirror-lined. There was a long table in front where several serious-looking ballet-types sat watching the girls over their glasses, with notepads and pencils ready. Some Butler Ballet dancers were there also, gracefully demonstrating the combinations for the young dancers. The kids had been separated into groups according to height and Brooke was one of the taller girls, so she ended up in a class with dancers who seemed to be at least her age but mostly older.
I watched as Brooke’s group tried out the first combination. I could see her clearly in the front row, looking beautiful even as she struggled a bit to keep up with the sashays, piquè turns and leaps, which came in quick succession. She had an unsure look and a shy, self-conscious smile on her face as she glanced up at the judges. My heart went out to her and for the first time, I wondered if I’d been wrong in encouraging her to do this. She looked like she’d rather be anywhere else than in that room, trying to get unfamiliar, difficult ballet combinations right in a room full of other dancers watching and ballet instructors critiquing her. The group went through the combinations several times, and each time, she seemed more sure of herself, but as soon as she was catching on, the next group came forward. The audition lasted quite a while – far longer than Claire’s – and it was probably an hour and a half before she came out in a sea of black leotards. They’d told the dancers they would be contacting everybody in a few days, so we headed out to the car.
As she climbed into the back seat, she surprised me with this: “That was SO FUN! I want to do it again next year!” What? Really?! Fun? Next year? And then she excitedly went over everything that happened, even talking about her nervousness and how she missed a few of the steps because she was trying so hard to learn them quickly. But overall, she seemed excited and energized by doing something that was so different and challenging from anything she’d done before. We decided to get some ice cream to celebrate, and while I listened to her, I silently wondered how she would handle it if she wasn’t picked. She got quiet for a minute and then, as if reading my thoughts, said “It doesn’t really matter if I make it or not, it was a good experience for me.” Yes, that. THAT was how I hoped she’d feel about the whole thing. For sure, to see our girls dancing on the Clowe’s Hall stage would be so amazing, but for Brooke, just making it through the audition was enough this year. And so it was enough for me, too.
I don’t yet know the end of this story - we’re supposed to find out this week if either girl made it - but as far as I’m concerned, the audition was a success: Brooke did it! She stepped up, took a chance, and in the process found a bit of confidence that has become a part of who she is.
