Pass The Dance Shoes Please

   I am a dancing queen. This is not a self-dubbed title that I've given myself. Dancing is what I do and queen is what the name Jeanna means. I have always wanted to be a dancer ever since I was 4 or 5 years old, I remember vividly wanting to take dance. My older sister did take from Mr. Saxon at the rec. department, I, however, did not get to take classes. I remember her recital costume, it was blue satin with blue netting and had silver coxcomb trim on it. It was divine. When she would go to class I would don my green one-piece swimsuit with three very large buttons down the front and just hope that Mr. Saxon would invite me to join the class. He never did. But, still I would dance, and pantomime, and choreograph in my room and even my other older sisters would ask me to teach them how to do the current dances of the day. I taught my sister, Sherrie, how to do the pony to "Summer In The City".

   I had a best friend, Lisa Wilemon, that lived across the street from me. We would sing and make up dances for hours to the Beatles, the Supremes, the Archies. She tells me now, that I made her do all that singing and dancing, that may be so, but I had to interact with her ventriloquist dummy (see "Will The Real Me Please Stand Up?). I still have only a certain tolerance for dummies, even now, none. She still does ventriloquism to this day and I still dance.

   I made up a move once called the 'bully twist' and I danced it to "Wooly Bully", everyone would ask me to do it for them. I loved that. I got my big break to perform my first solo for my 4th grade class for 'Show and Tell'. My teacher, Mrs. Wilda Jones, was so gracious to let me perform this dance in front of my classmates. I do not remember feeling nervous or anxious, I couldn't wait to show the class what I had choreographed. It was to "All You Need Is Love" by the Beatles. It could not have been very good, but she was so encouraging that I felt I should continue dancing. She is also the reason I blog, she nurtured me in my writing as well.

   I got my first opportunity at 16 to choreograph for my high school's musical production of "Bye Bye Birdie" and also do a solo in it as the 'sad girl' to "Put On A Happy Face". By this time I was not only taking dance classes but teaching dance and gymnastics. I also knew that that was what I was supposed to do with my life.

   Since that time of my first desires to dance, I have produced, directed, choreographed, and danced in hundreds of  performances as well as taught thousands of students, of whom three were my own children and five of my six grandchildren. I still remember every students face and usually their names. I am now teaching children of former students. It will be a couple more years that the children's children of former students will be ready to teach! And I have loved it all...every minute of it. 

   God has seen to it all along this path called my life, that there were people there to help me press on in where I was going. Mrs. Ziegler, Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Calvin, Shirley Sumners Wright, Ed Dodd, were some of the teachers that influenced me and gave me an opportunity to grow in confidence and experience. Maxey Veazey, Shirley Cardwell and many many more influencers, too numerous to mention, that invested in me and helped bring me to this very place.

   2012 will mark my 40th year teaching dance. I pray that I have returned the blessing that my mentors placed on me by giving the gift of purpose, passion, creativity, focus, desire, fortitude, and lots of sweat to my students. I am very saddened that my wonderful love of dance was not caught by my daughters or granddaughters. I will not be able to ceremoniously carry out the "passing of the dance shoes" to them. Generationally speaking, it will begin and end with me. But they will have all of the years of my notebooks, notes, videos, pictures, and memorabilia, the evidence of how much this queen has loved to dance!

   I don't move quite as quick as I used to and my flexibility is slower to respond. I limp from the truck coming home from class sometimes and my legs throb after pounding the floor for hours but through all of it, I love it, and would not trade my career choice for anything else out there. I have truly loved dance and it has loved me back. It has been good to me. I have danced in rain, mud, red ants, cow patties, on grass, on gravel, on concrete, in front of car lights, on stages with holes and splinters in them, on flat bed trailers, in parking lots, pastures, churches with tiny altar areas, and in 3,000 seat arenas with 300 hundred piece orchestras and 500 member choirs with boom cameras swinging over my head. I don't care where, I don't care when, I just care to dance.

   I am determined that I will continue to "pass the dance shoes" to new generations to come and share my love for movement as long as my body will let me. There's just something about moving. Music. Mirrors. Barres. Costumes. Stages. Dancers. Learning. Growing. Performing. It's where I find who I am...the Dancing Queen.

   "You are the dancing queen, young and sweet, only seventeen. Dancing queen, feel the beat on the tambourine. You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life. See that girl, watch that scene, digging the dancing queen."

Ding Dong The Frogs Are Dead

   Call it the teacher in me, but I have this need for people to be educated in divers topics. I don't even pretend to know why, that's just the way that I'm made. I've taught dance since 1972 and I've been teaching children in dance or homeschooling or raising/teaching children since 19forever&ever. If there is ever a conversation that comes up and I have information pertinent to the topic I begin to transmit, because a mind is a terrible thing to waste. Carpe Minutam 'seize the minute', I say, for I may never have the opportunity to give out these nuggets of useless or valuable wisdom again.

   People might call me a Cliff Claven, a know-it-all, or opinionated...I think of myself as an informer. A  know-it-all or Claven is full of and a disperser of useless trivia and I DO have my O's but the informer is one who believes they are accurate concerning truth. For me, the only truth I use as a guide comes from the Handbook of Living Life, the Manual for Life Junkies. If there's an answer in there for the thing you're talking to me about...out it comes...just like gum from the gumball machine. I do what I do. No apologies.

   When you mention that you're not sleeping, or your back is in constant pain or you cry all the time, my data bank kicks into high gear searching for the truth to help you change your situation. Why stay one more night among the frogs like Pharaoh, when he told Moses to ask God to remove the plague of frogs and when Moses asked when do you want them removed Pharaoh said, "tomorrow" (Exodus 8:10).

   Tomorrow? Really? So you need more time to part with your miserableness? I feel the informer taking over...must...say...it...let's knock your plague in the head right now. Is now a good time for you? I feel like David when Goliath was terrorizing Israel and he comes on the scene and hears what's going on and while everyone else was in 'let's-pretend-it's-not-that-bad' mode, David is yelling, "oh no you d'ent" to the enemy. While you make plans to take your pet plague home with you I'm looking in my vaults for inform-a-tion for us to use to get rid of it.

   Here's my O...I think everyone should be an informer. Everyone should have a safety deposit box of important, vital help to shed abroad to others that are standing in front of you and saying that their lives are being shaken or that they're at a crossroad or that their faith has gone mushy. But many are afraid of coming across as a judge. Informing someone is not judging someone. Saying, "I have information that will help you get over this", is not a judgment. Especially if they are sharing their hurts or pain, it sorta opens the door for you to speak into their lives.  

   In my car, I have in the glove compartment, my car manual, my tag receipt, my insurance card, a flash light, and other important paperwork that I might need when there is a need for it...my spirit also has a glove compartment that when someone needs that inform-a-tion, bam, there it is. Ready to do the thing that it is there to do. Inform.

   I work for the DKB, I'm an informer for the DKB. Department of Kingdom Business. Agent Jeanna reported for duty when she got born again. Part of the kingdom business I'm responsible for, my informer manual tells me, is telling others of this good news. The good news is...you don't have to live with the frogs! The town crier was the town informer, "Hear ye, hear ye,we're having frog legs tonight!". "Ding dong the frogs are dead!".

   If you went to the mechanic because your car was out of sorts and he told you that you had a dirty carburetor from sludge or if your doctor told you that your arteries were clogged from bad cholesterol or a professional organizer said that your collecting of stuff was out of hand, would you think that they were judging you? or simply stating the facts from the evidence in front of them? That's what an informer does, states facts of truth, not so they can show off their informant skills but to further Kingdom Business.
 
   Because of my teacher tendencies I would not have you ignorant. Here is some info. for you to put into your spiritual glove compartment for upcoming life exams...
RE-DE-IN 
God is the REformer
satan is a DEformer
and you are an INformer!
A reformer adjust, changes, and makes a difference. A deformer kills, steals, and destroys. An informer tells you what I just told you.

   So, when you and I meet and you tell me that life has been crappy, or you've had the crud, or you worry all the time or that it's always been this way and will always be this way...watch my eyes...you'll see a tiny hourglass with sand trickling to the other end while I retrieve, in prayer, the truth for the minute. And then, with great speed and determination I'm gonna serve up some frog stew! Ka-pow! Not another night among the frogs. Class dismissed.

Lessons from my Dance Bag

     "Wow, what a mess," I thought as I dug around in my dance bag looking for what I needed. I don't know why I was thinking that, because this wasn't any different from the other times I've had to go clawing through it. My bag's got the usual stuff that dancers have to have in it, obviously shoes, all kind of shoes, very worn shoes, along with Tylenol, bobby pins, needle and thread, band-aids, ribbons, elastic, fray check, screwdriver, wrench, sweat towel, CD's, extra skirts, extra tights, extra shoes ( in case of a blow out), extra stuff, water, power bars, along with some giblet stuff on the bottom.
 
     In my bag are all the things that I might need as I do the dance thing. Now, let me say, I am a minimalist. I know it doesn't sound like it considering everything I carry around, but I am. That's why my bag looks like it does, messy and mangled. Minimalist don't like a bunch of clutter, just the necessities. I've always said that if I was stranded on a desert island all I would need would be my Bible, a knife, and some mascara and I could make it fine. But.......I have all this stuff in my bag. Did I mention that it weighs about a ton or that I can only carry it on my left shoulder? My right shoulder has never allowed me to put any strappy thing over it, it slides right off. I think that my right shoulder isn't as broad as my left.....anyway, because of the left shoulder favoritism I have a 5 degree curve on my spine that pulls to the left from all of those years that I have toted a bag around. I'm also a loyalist, I will hang tough with you and I will also hang onto a thing that I have until it is absolutely undesirable to everyone else. Just like a dance bag, I'll keep one until it just begs to be repaired or retired. 

     So, as I 'm looking at my bag and saying, "wow, what a mess",  I'm thinking that this bag is an expression of me, the contents reveal who I am and what I do. So then I think about how it's the same with my body that totes around my spirit and my soul (my will, my intellect, my emotions) and THAT REALLY can make me say, "wow, what a mess"! What do my contents say about who I really am and what I really do? I hate fake! I require genuineness from others as well as from myself. I'm like a cowboy from the old west, I shoot straight from the hip and lay all my cards out on the table. I guess that's why I can let others see the contents of my imperfect bag while my minimalist self is screaming..."I really don't live like this"!! I live by the philosophy of 'organize now or agonize later'. But yet, my contents are all jumbled.

     As part of my desire to become a better me this year, I want to clean out my bag. Throw away what's unnecessary, mend what's torn and, keep what's useful for my benefit. Unnecessary stuff would be things like, letting go of good ideas and doing God ideas instead, comparing myself among others, and letting perfectly good gifts and talents go to waste. Mending what's torn would require me to fix some breaches (not britches), patch some holey relationships, and repair some broken dreams. Lastly, things that are useful and beneficial would be to remember that, IT IS NOT ABOUT ME, none of it, name it and it isn't about me. With a world filled to capacity with others, I would say because of Him, it is about others. My dance bag is filled with necessary things so I can impact others with its contents and so am I.

 

Live It

All over the globe fall dance classes are getting back into the groove. Why? I don't understand it. Dance is a living art and should be continually studied. But the countless kids that take the summer off can really be a bummer even for the most inspiring of dance teachers. This is a huge trend in small town America...school in session, study dance...school out, no dance. That's an 8-10 week break, flexibility and strength, out the door. But let me tell you something else that is going on in small and big town America, people by the droves are taking summer off from where they study the art of life and living...the church. Again, flexibility and strength, out the door. Life is a living art and should be continually studied.

I teach my students an analogy about barre work and center work. I tell them that what they learn at the barre, the tips and techniques, the hard work and repetition, the growth and development, are to be taken from the barre and applied to the work that they do in the center and across the floor. Just like when you train in your faith, the pastors, the teachers, the leadership trains you in the church and then when you go out of the church into real life (the center) you apply your training there! You live it for everyone to see.

A teacher loves it when a dancer can correct themselves. The teacher sees something out of line and they call for a correction and the dancer looks into the mirror and sees the need to change and does it quickly. That is the mark of maturity. Not perfection, but maturity. That thrills an instructor! Teachability. For a dancer, the mirror is the place of checks and balances. For the Christian it is the Bible, we look in it as we train and continually correct and change and live it for all to see.

A dance class could very easily be compared to church. You dress appropriately for the situation. You speak with and mingle with others that have come for the same purpose. The music begins and an euphoric feeling comes...this why I dance..., there's a lot of talking and educating and reminders of what is right and good and useful for you and your life. There is a lot of praying and then you're released to the center (real life) and you go out and live it. Yes?

I've always had questions concerning people that call themselves dancers. You know the ones that come to class only once a week or miss class when other things take higher priority. They love the idea of being a dancer but do not want to do what it takes to be one. They want to attend class just enough to stay somewhat connected but its plain to see that their absence is weakening their commitment. They want to stay on roll but are not advancing in their training.
I've heard someone say that the growth of atheism was due to the fact that many Christians acknowledged God with their lips and lived before the world as an unbeliever and people frankly, found that to be unbelievable. Train at the barre...live it in the center.

Just like noses, we all have them ....opinions. These are my O's.