Catching Up

Oh, boy! It’s really been a while. But, since I am in a writing mood—perhaps due to my solid weekend of working on papers for school—I am thinking that I just may give this blog thing another go. Hmm....Now where did I leave off? Oh, yes, the O’Dell spring recital…

The O’Dell Irish Dancers Spring Recital was a great success. I had a great time and, for once, did not have to dance in every-other number. So, I guess you could say I even had the chance to enjoy myself a bit. As forecasted, the recital was my last event with O’Dell, and, later that summer, the school closed. I have to say, though, I loved being a part of O’Dell Irish Dancers. It’s really where I started to become confident in my dancing, even if I was less than spectacular. The school also allowed me to be creative and to interact with Irish step dance in a way that I had never done before. All in all, while the drives may have been boring at times and the gas bills were excruciating, the experience was completely worth it. I wish all of the dancers the best and hope to stay in contact with them.

After leaving O’Dell, I spent the summer journeying to my other Irish dance school, Rince Nia Academy, in Milwaukee. I did the regular adult class once a week plus a two hour private every weekend. During my private, I worked hard to learn the more advanced dances: the boys’ reel, a slow hornpipe, and a slow treble jig. I had hoped to learn these dances well enough to be allowed to drop down into the &Over’s category. However, before I attempted that, I enrolled myself in a few adult competitions at feiseanna.

On July 21 and 22, I competed in back-to-back feiseanna: the Badger State Feis and the Cream City Feis. At both of these competitions, I was the only adult competing in my Novice/Prizewinner. (At the second of the two, there was another adult competitor, but he was dancing as a beginner.) By default, then, I placed first in all of my dances and was awarded three medals and three trophies. When I went to claim my prizes, I told the lady at the table, “I’ve never felt so honored and so cheap in my life!”

Me with my trophies at the feis

After my feis experience, I continued my private lessons to work on my competition steps and used the time in my normal class to prepare for Irish Fest. Although the adult class was only doing one number for Irish Fest, I alone was awarded a solo in the dance. It was a really great honor and I was very excited about it, even if it did prove to be a test of my stamina. Nevertheless, I got through the solo all three times that we performed.

The adult class at Irish Fest -- I'm the tiny guy on the right

 I tell you, it was great to glance toward the crowd while dancing, to see the bleachers full, and to know that everyone was watching me. Perhaps it was my previous experience of being judged at the feis that allowed me to feel at so ease when performing in front of a large crowd. Whatever the case, I was certainly exhilarated.

To back up a bit, the weekend before Irish Fest I had planned to compete at another two feiseanna—the names of which escape me. I unfortunately was unable to do so, as I had badly sprained my ankle quite severely two days before the first feis. While I was sure that I could have pushed myself to compete at the feis, I ultimately decided not to because of it being so close to Irish Fest—I didn’t want to injure myself further before our big shows. Indeed, my ankle was still very swollen for Irish fest…but I pushed through that one.

One of these things isn't like the other, one of
these things shouldn't be used for dance

Given all of the drama with my ankle, I took about a week and a half off from dancing after Irish Fest. The swelling did eventually go down, and even though it was sprained pretty severely, my ankle healed rather quickly.

As I already stated, I had been working all summer on my competition steps so that I would be able to drop down into the &Over’s. It was my hope to be able to do this in time for the Pat Roche Feis in October. Indeed, at the end of August/beginning of September, I asked my private instructor what she thought, and she said that it seemed like I’d be ready to drop down into the Novice &Over’s.

With this in mind, I contacted my TCRG, explained that I was hoping to drop down by the time of my next feis, and asked him if that would be okay—after all, a life with a well-informed TCRG is a happy life. Now, my TCRG knew from the beginning that I was hoping, one day, to drop down out of the adult category. However, when I emailed him, he responded by simply saying that his adult dancers would not be allowed to compete in any other category other than adult. That’s when shit started to get real…

As some of you involved in the Irish dance world will know, there are no special rules or fees associated with dropping down. Rather, it is simply at the discretion of the TCRG. Nevertheless, my TCRG decided to make a sweeping statement denying not just me but all of my fellow adult dancers the possibility to drop down in competition. This hurt me and infuriated me—and, indeed, still hurts and infuriates me—to no end.

Here’s is why it hurts so much: My TCRG had never seen me dance (save the occasional glance while rehearsing for Irish Fest). He had never seen my competition steps, never seen me compete, never even attempted—even after I asked him about dropping down—to assess my progress. No. For him, it was not my ability that matter; it was my age. I, and my classmates, were not allowed to compete based simply upon our ages. This, my friends, is called ageism and is illegal in many sectors in the United States—the Irish dance world, however, is not one of these sectors.

Some dark weeks followed this truly heart-breaking news.

A week or two after I received my TCRG’s decision, one of the girls who runs the adult class made a very inappropriate and fundamentally ageist comment, telling some of the new adult dancers (only eight years her senior) that she was “so impressed to see them trying Irish dance at their age when she had difficulty doing it at her age”. This, of course, further enraged me and also did not go over too well with some others of the adult class. Indeed, I still fail qualitatively to see the difference in what she said and if I would have commented that, “It was amazing to see her doing Irish dance because, you know, she’s black.” Ageism and racism are both power plays that focus attention on outward, uncontrollable traits rather than ability—which is really what should matter, right?

Given the rampant ageism floating around, I decided to look for a new dance school, a new TCRG. However, despite emailing the other schools in the area, politely explaining my predicament, and having others suggest me to their TCRGs, I, in the end, heard nothing. While I cannot be certain of their reasons for not responding to me, I am left to wonder if at least some of their decisions may have been based on my age.

I spent a good portion of the ensuing weeks curled up in my bed, thinking about my life and listening to ‘uplifting’ music. In fact, I even created a special playlist on my iTunes, entitled “The Breakup”, which was full of songs that told me, “Fuck this, fuck it, fuck him; I’ll show all those ageist fuckers…”

This song will forever have an unbelievable depth of meaning for me

Due to ageist drama, as well as time constraints and a lingering pain in my left foot, I decided that it was best to take some time off from Irish dance, at least for the semester. During this time, I found myself dedicating more energy to Highland dance. For once, I started to really take seriously my highland technique and started working toward improving it. Then, after the attending the Wisconsin Highland Games, I realized that I just may want to compete in Highland dance.

The fact that the desire to compete in Highland took so long to cultivate in me was kind of surprising. Since the very beginning, my Highland instructors had been urging me to compete, saying that I had good foundations and potential to do well. I guess that, until my ageist scandal with the Irish dance world, I had never fully been able to appreciate those compliments. Now, I was finally able to understand just how important it was to be surrounded by people who supported your ambitions and passions.

I am still in the process of getting over the hurt struck upon me by my TCRG’s decision, and some days are definitely better than others. I honestly feel like someone very close to me has passed away—to be maybe a bit over dramatic, perhaps this is a final nail in the coffin of a childhood dream. I know, perhaps a bit much, but still, I honestly think that I am hurting more from this than from any other moment in my life, albeit a young life at that. It is just so absolutely earth-shattering to come to the edge of the realization that you want nothing more than to be active in a world where so many people simply wish you didn’t exist. It still hurts, even just writing about it…

As the Jack Off Jill song, Angels Fuck, reminds me:

“I will never make it better / It will always hurt you fucking asshole”.

Yet, I know that, even if it leaves a scar, I will go on with my life, and I will go on dancing. And, I will certainly not give up Irish dancing because of this incidence—after all, I just bought new hard shoes! Plus, there are plenty of awesome Irish dance teachers out there who believe in me and in the art rather than the sport of Irish dance. And yet, will I ever get back into the competitive Irish dance world? I honestly don’t know. Not now at least; I still need some time to heal.

For now, though, I am beginning to come back into my normal self. I have begun to study Highland dance more seriously, and that gives me great hope (even if I am currently confined to crutches and a walking boot because of a severe stress fracture in my left ankle).

I have even begun to gather an outfit for Highland—and who doesn’t love new clothes?!

My awesome new Balmoral hat!

On top of all of this, I have printed out my TCRG’s email telling me I am not allowed to compete outside of the adult category—a decision tainted by ageist constructs—and have nailed it above my bed with the phrase “YOU’RE WRONG” written on it. It is one of the first things that I see each morning, reminding me that, now more than ever, I have to dance, to prove him wrong, to show him that age is just a number and that I still have worth.

At the end of the day, I am a dancer, and I have people who believe in me as a dancer. And so, I will never stop dancing, and, as for those who think that I should, I will prove them wrong. I will prove them all wrong.

Gum bi e…