Nutcracker 2024

I feel like writing this post is something for which I have all and none of the words.

I was nervous going into this season. Last season held so many changes and differences that really made it difficult to endure. I was afraid that was the new norm and that Nutcracker would no longer be something I actually enjoyed, but rather something to which I was obligated. The thought of this broke my heart, and I started the season having to put my dog–my best friend–down on audition day. It was already not looking like it was going to be the favorite season of my life.

Now here we are at the end of it. Final bows have been taken, costumes have been hung, props put back into storage. Chapters have been written and signed off in the books of personal history, and here I am, bursting with gratitude.

The difficulty and struggle is not the new norm; it’s simply a blip on the radar of my experiences, something I endured and lived to tell the tale. This year felt redemptive. Of course, it wasn’t perfect, no experience ever is. Honestly, I think if it was, I wouldn’t value it as much. Something about a little struggle makes you really take inventory about how much something means to you. But this year is definitely one I treasure. I know I’m not the only one who feels a bit of redemption, many of the dancers have overcome their own personal challenges for which this year has brought them full circle as well.

Over the first weekend, we had CCB’s very first Clara and Fritz as our Mother Gingers. Mrs. Lori, my first ballet teacher when I came over to Munro, was that first Clara. I haven’t seen her since I took her class ten years ago and was a little worried she wouldn’t remember me. So much can happen in ten years, and she only knew me for that one year of it, leaving me uncertain. I banked on the fact that I look the exact same and got bold enough to say hi when she was talking to Ms. Munro and Mrs. Alex, needing to mention something to Mrs. Alex anyway. When she finished whatever story she was telling and noticed me standing there, she said, “Oh, my glittering girl!” and opened her arms wide to me. I melted like a little kid seeing her favorite teacher; so much of what I learned in her class are still things I apply when I teach students. She was the first teacher to really see me, and the first to point out my hips weren’t square. It was also that year I learned about my leg length discrepancy and the two curves in my spine and started using a shoe lift. Getting to see her backstage, practicing for Mother Ginger, deciding what character she would bring to the role and making sure everything was perfect brought a smile to my face. A professional, through and through.

Party Scene was so much fun. I had all new party boys for the first time this year, as my beloved Michael aged out of the role, which brings in different elements. Having an entirely new set of kids can be a challenge, but in this case it was so much fun. We laughed, made up little jokes throughout the scene, each kid bringing their own personality into it. It never once felt boring or redundant. At one point when John and I are dancing, I said, “This year is so much fun,” and he looked at me and replied, “I know you mean that, because you don’t always say that.” And he’s right. Of course there’s bits I enjoy about every year, and I love my party kids so much, but some years the joy comes more easily, and this was one of those years. From doing the Macarena during the interlude music, to joking that the doll box smoke was Joshua farting, to “this cake doesn’t have nuts”, to Aubrey actually falling asleep in the scene where they’re supposed to pretend, to learning the new kids slang–it’s all been so wonderful.

This is my tenth season with the Corpus Christi Ballet, and I truly believe that it was the best season we’ve had since I’ve been here. Everyone was on their A game, working really hard and dedicating their all to make the show beautiful. It fills my heart with pride to see these dancers rise in their potential. The Clara’s, of course, but also the other roles as well. Many, many of the dancers really seemed to come into their own between last year and this year and it’s excited to watch and speculate where they may go from here. Having been here this many years now, I’ve gotten to see the young ones grow up to be the older ones. Speculations at the beginning have been realized, and getting to see that development is beautiful. There does need to be special compliments paid to the Clara’s, though. All four of those girls really worked their tails off, giving performances that were utter delights to watch each night, supporting and helping each other, and fully embodying the joy of the character. It was like seeing each of their little kid versions living their best lives out there on stage–I’m getting goosebumps just remembering it!

My second season with CCB, I was Rat Queen. Three of my mice are still dancing, two of whom are Seniors this year. I’ve managed to actually let my cold, dead heart thaw a few times the last couple weeks, and one of them was in watching Kaitlyn and Paige dance in Dew Drop (in a trio with Magen), knowing that these nuggets that have been here with me nearly my entire time here are now not only the incredibly talented dancers they are, but are such wonderful people to boot. They are kind and considerate, funny and creative, and positive influences on the younger dancers who watch them with eyes full of wonder. That’s the beautiful thing about the current state of the studio; the older dancers have a grasp of their influence and use their “powers” for good. Seeing them interact with the younger dancers, knowing what it means to them and knowing they know it too, is something that warms my heart.

My absolute favorite thing is the one rehearsal when we don’t have Cherubs, Angels, or Cooks, so the Company girls have started filling in while the music plays so Drosselmeyer and Clara have someone to play off of. It’s hilarious watching them in their various costumes, and adorable now remembering how some of these girls were once these very roles not so long ago. (also hilarious seeing which ones boss the others around on where they’re supposed to be at different parts in the scene.)

I also loved getting to see some of my friends from when I was dancing who came back to visit and/or watch for the 50th anniversary. Moving on is a part of life, but it means so much when they’re able to come back, especially when they take a moment to say hello. I still tell stories of memories we made during our years, and try to keep up on social media, but I’ve become more removed from that in recent days which makes it more difficult to keep up. Just thinking of them makes me so happy.

I can’t tell you how much it meant to me this past weekend to be standing around during party scene, and to have Kaitlyn J, Paige, Alenka, McKenna, and whoever else was there call me over because they wanted pictures with me. Usually I jump in to theirs, or make them take pictures with me (they have yet to protest), but this time they asked me and suddenly I felt way cooler than I ever have any business feeling. These girls we have truly are such wonderful people. Not only the ones I’ve mentioned, either. They’re supportive and kind and helpful and just delights to be around. One of my favorite parts of any show was hearing them cheer for each other, supporting their friends in whatever role they happened to have, giving encouragement, holding each other up. So often people get caught up in competition with each other, but these girls are girls girls. I’m so proud of them.

I teared up at different points every single night, but on the drive in to the last show, one lone, dramatic tear managed to escape my eye at the thought of how special this cast and this experience really is. I have more stories than I could ever truly tell, but each of them have a home in my heart. My life is a pretty dark place on the regular, and it’s easy for me to feel rather consumed by it. But as I told my therapist, “My life is dark, but these kids are the light.” Seeing the wide eyed tiny dancers, hearts full of dreams; the slightly older dancers whose eyes are still wide yet are starting to come into their own, mapping out the stories of their lives; the older dancers whose dreams have now been realized, soaking up every moment of this experience that has been so much of their lives all these years, it’s all enough to melt even the coldest of hearts. I’m so proud of them, of who they’ve grown and are growing to be. I’ve loved getting to know their parents and families and having the privilege of being even the smallest of parts in their stories. Seeing them feel so fulfilled is in turn so extremely fulfilling.

And the greatest gift I could have been given this year is the hope with which I’m left.
This, the kindness and joy, is the norm. This is what I have to look forward to in future seasons. This is why I keep coming back. This is what fills my heart and makes my life feel like it has a greater purpose.

This is the light in my darkness. I’m not foolish enough to think that I’ll always have it, especially since I almost lost it once already, but I’m grateful for every moment and memory that I do have it, and for every person I get to meet along the way.

Swan Lake cast list, 2024

it’s been a minute, not because I have nothing to say but because I can’t seem to find the words to say it.

Nutcracker 2023 was difficult, for many reasons. it had some beautiful moments—finally having some of my former students as party girls, spending time with the older girls, feeling loved and supported, and much more besides. Even still, I can’t bring myself to make an entire post about it. It’s too difficult. There’s too many things I just can’t say.

Spring show, thankfully, has already been a vast improvement. What’s more, it’s a show I was in before. If you’ve been around a bit, you’ll remember my experiences with Swan Lake in 2016; how I was cast as a cover for swans, the disappointment, the endurance, the chance to perform it after someone got injured week of. I haven’t re read my posts from then, so I’m unsure what all I spoke of, but I remember also being really sick then. The day after shows ended was the day I woke up and have never been the same. I was hardly eating because I couldn’t keep anything down (before I knew about the medication i’m on now), everything was complicated and difficult and I felt I had half a brain. Following that was when I was my most sick—had to stop dancing, had to quit my job, had a handicap parking placard, didn’t have enough energy to walk a grocery store, was looking at wheelchairs—and now, after all the work and effort, I have a quality of life that’s different than I had before I woke up that morning after shows but is better than I thought would be possible to have again.

Last time, the group of us five covers called ourselves the “Ugly Ducklings” because we wanted to be swans. It was our way of making light of our disappointment so we could make the most of it, to band together and feel we had something to be a part of, camaraderie.

This time, I got cast as the Queen.

It feels like a full circle moment I never could have guessed would ever be possible. Not after how sick I got, not after everything I lost and had to give up, not after everything i’ve been through in the last eight years.

I went from staring at the reality of giving up every connection I had to ballet, having to stop dancing, stop teaching, and making the decision to not be in Nutcracker or teach privates anymore to now I work for the Ballet and am the Queen in the show that was one of the biggest turning points in my story not only as a dancer but entirely.

Our company has grown substantially in the last eight years. I’d be hard pressed to find a dancer who knows majority of the people I talk about when I mentioned dancers from the last time we did the show, the exception being the college aged dancers who were villagers old enough to know some of the girls, and the one who had a sister in that group I danced with.

It’s a unique position i’ve found myself in—the shift from peer to employee. I know these girls dancing, watched them grow up. We chat and laugh and sometimes cry, but it’s not like before. Most of these girls didn’t know me as a corps dancer. Heck, last week some of them were taking bets on how old they thought I was, and they were off by ten years.

But truly, this unique position is one of my greatest joys in my life, getting to know these girls, talk with them, hear their experiences, see their split second death glares when I catch their eye walking by knowing they’re doing their best to have a good attitude about whatever it is they aren’t a fan of happening in the moment—a truly universal experience. I love hearing about their hopes and their dreams, I love answering their questions, hearing their theories, or comparing stories about what they remember from when they were younger, many of them having their first spring show experience be my last.

Last time, the cast list came out and I cried, utterly disappointed and feeling like I failed myself, processing those emotions and doing my best to do the best I could anyway. This time, the cast list came out and these sweet girls text and messaged and posted various congratulations from telling me it was perfectly fitting to saying they will only refer to me as “you’re majesty” from now on.

It makes me feel so good to have the support of these sweet souls, especially in this show.

It makes me reflect back on the last 12.5 years of my dancing experience, 9.5 of those years being at this studio. Remembering how I felt I didn’t really have a place where I belonged—dancing ballet as an adult was still a pretty unheard of thing then, at least in this capacity. Friends I made through my instagram account were some of the first in the adult ballet community on social media, and now it’s coming up on my FYP left and right. We were the trailblazers in a weird time of the growth and shift in social media to be more accessible and able to get our stories out there faster. I’ve made some of my greatest friends through this little dream I had to one day have the pointe shoes little Emilee always dreamed of having. I’ve accomplished things I never even dared to dream of accomplishing, dancing with a pre professional company, and now working for that same company. I get to continue on this path in ways I never could have imagined to even hope for, all because I dared to try a thing i’d always dreamed of doing just because i’d always wanted to.

i’m surrounded by people who love me every time I step foot in to that building, i’m supported in the things I do, i’m encouraged to keep the boundaries I need to make sure I remain the healthiest version of myself possible. i’m so behind grateful.

Rehearsals began last week, and they’re already looking really great. There’s of course much to learn and perfect, but these girls have risen in ways i’m so proud to see.

While trying to better organize my house today, I found the notebook I used to keep in my dance bag, complete with notes of the part I had to learn when I was put in as a swan after a dancer got injured theater week. It was a different section than the one i’d been covering in rehearsals, not necessarily difficult, just one I wasn’t used to and I wanted to make sure I was my best for it. Seeing the video during rehearsals, i’m pleased to say I blend right in to the corps, only able to be picked out since I was the tallest. I’m proud of 8-years-ago me, proud of her tenacity, her ability to honor her emotions but also to push through them and make the most of the situation, and the reward in getting to do the thing i’d been working so hard for.

I’m proud of current me, working for a ballet company I love so dearly, getting another chance to be involved in this ballet in a way that makes my heart swell to think about.

I’m so grateful for this full circle experience, to bring even more joy to my memories of this ballet, and to have these girls a part of it.

messy, scattered notes from when I was put in as a swan the week of shows.

Cinderella 2023

Now that I’ve had a few days to pretend like I’m recovering, I’m finally sitting down to type up the blog post for Cinderella.

We had one weekend of shows; a school show on Friday, an evening show on Saturday, and a matinee on Sunday with rehearsals at the theater peppered between.

There were many bits that were exhausting and overwhelming, but all things considered this show went substantially better than Nutcracker did this past December. Maybe because I’m more confident in what I’m doing, maybe because the cast is smaller, maybe because it’s only one weekend, maybe a combination of these things and others–who knows. All I know is I’m grateful.

I’m also extremely grateful for the dance parents who have been absolutely phenomenal in giving of their time and energy to help make this show run smoothly. I can guarantee that their efforts contributed to how smoothly these shows went, and how much less stressful it was for me personally. They’re rock stars and my gratitude knows no bounds.

These rehearsals were long, and many of the dancers are young and not used to it, yet they handled it with grace and endurance. Much of the time they ended up being released early, but even then it wasn’t something we could know until rehearsals got started and we knew what areas needed work and which looked good.

I was a “Wig Maker” in the show, helping one of the Step-sisters in the Dressing Scene by putting the wig on after two other dancers got her ball gown on. Roles like this are really fun for me as you get the opportunity to really make the role your own. With one of the step-sisters, we brainstormed little bits we could do to make it funnier, like getting giant tweezers and “tweezing her face” as well as filing her nails and such. I also brought a giant feather I had to act as a quill a la Lady Whistledown from Bridgerton. The whole scene lasted maybe three minutes or so, and they decided to let us bow at the end. This took me by surprise, as usually first act scenes don’t bow at the end of second act, especially a little bit part like this, but I can see why, given that if we didn’t we would literally be the only ones in the show not bowing.

I called my costume, affectionate, “The Potato” as it was this big brown thing. Mrs. Jane made me a really great bonnet to go with it and, coming in clutch, her husband Jim made me way better “tools” to use for the face plucking and nail filing. What I had before were long and sharp. How literally none of us recognized the danger these things posed is beyond me, but Mrs. Jane saved the day and have Mr. Jim make me big sparkly props that were absolutely fantastic–and in two hours, no less. I kept them, and am quite fond of them. Their entire family really means a lot to me, making sure I’m taken care of and informed, even walking me to my car after late shows since they know I’m alone. Little things that add up to a whole lot.

While I’m quite proud of the dancers as a whole, for their various personal triumphs and accomplishments, there’s two in particular I want to write about.

There were two sets of Step-sisters, the Saturday night set being a set of our Principal dancers, and the Sunday set being two of our soloists.

Jessica, in the green dress (the one I wigged up,) is a fellow adult ballerina, though she didn’t begin as an adult. She’s built her way up and when she and her husband moved to Corpus, she joined us here at CCB. I first met her last year when I wore a University of Kansas jacket and she came up and said, “Rock, Chalk, Jayhawk?” and I excitedly exclaimed, “Rock, Chalk, Jayhawk!” We’ve been friends ever since.

Last year I watched as she danced roles with some of the high school girls, having the best attitude and outlook on it all, lighting up the stage with her presence. I can’t even remember what her Nutcracker roles were, as some of the high school girls were no doubt cast above her, but when the cast list came out for Cinderella, I saw her name as a step sister and said, “oh, PERFECT.” Because it is. Casting Jessica as a step sister is absolutely perfect, which was only further confirmed with each rehearsal. The comedy she brought to the role often had me forgetting to go back to the office when I popped into the studio for something or another, instead being drawn in by her performance. So often in ballet, beautiful and talented dancers can end up overlooked for one reason or another, usually nothing personal though it can feel deeply as such, and seeing that happen can be really disheartening, let alone feeling it. But seeing Jessica completely nail this role so perfectly was extremely rewarding. She and Kaelin played off each other so well and you could tell they were having so much fun.

Speaking of Kaelin, she’s the other one I want to write about in this post. The step sister with the orange dress, she and I didn’t interact in our small scene, other than a quick glance in character, but watching her had me absolutely beaming with pride.

Kaelin was one of the little nuggets when I first started dancing at Munro. I remember waiting for my classes and peeking in through the window to watch their level II’s class when they first barely got their pointe shoes. She was a villager my first Spring show in Wizard of Oz and it was quickly evident what a delight she was (and is.) I watched as Kaelin looked up to the “big girls” as she danced, watched her recital dances through the years, watched her be called up as a back up understudy in my last role in which I was an understudy put in the very first rehearsal, watched her take on the roles I did, and watched as she surpassed my skillset. I watched her do Dew Drop on an injury, trying to find the tricky balance between enduring while risking further injury and taking a step back for recovery. Having the injury so close to shows, she endured, and thankfully the risk was worth it. And now I had the extreme honor of watching her take the challenge of such an advanced role, shared with one of our top Principal dancers, and completely rock it, making it look easy, even. I watched the little dancers watch her, one of the “big girls,” and see how their faces glow as she acknowledges them, some of them her students, others not. I heard their whispers of how cool they think she is and saw them trying to do the moves she did in the aisles.

When you have a young group of dancers, you have thoughts about what these kids could grow to be. You see their skills and drive, or lack thereof, and can sometimes guess which ones will continue on and which ones won’t. Kaelin has always had the drive, and she’s honed her skills over the years by paying attention and making the most of every opportunity. She’s not a kid anyone would have expected to just be handed these things, but worked her way up through the ranks, a normal dancer who had the endurance and self discipline to keep going, and now she gets to reap the rewards of her hard work. It’s been an absolute joy watching her as a step sister, and also seeing her as the Fairy Godmother during school shows, and even stepping up to cover Lead Star when Haeleigh hurt her foot the week of shows while working on recital in class. (:( my heart is sad for Haeleigh.) She has risen to the occasion and I couldn’t be more proud.

There’s loads of dancers I’m proud of who have taken great responsibility and really risen up this show, and some who have endured some really difficult things, dancing while their heart is breaking. I wish I could do more to reward them for their efforts.

After school show, we brought back a school whose teacher used to dance with us. It was so much fun seeing their reactions to the costumes and backdrops and props up close, and even more fun seeing Chrisi, our Cinderella that show who also knew Holly, the teacher, talk the kids through what it takes to make a production happen. Their eyes filled with wonder and Chrisi’s gentle instruction was a joy to behold, some of our dancers even being entranced by her explaining how she prepares her shoes to dance. The whole scene was so magical and heartwarming.

On Sunday, we had a big thunderstorm roll through, causing some localized flooding and the power to flicker before shows started. We were all on pins and needles, unsure of what might actually happen during the show and hoping against all hope the power would stay on and the audience would still show up. Thankfully, we didn’t have the orchestra, as the basement definitely flooded, and the power stayed on past the one flicker about an hour before curtain.

On Saturday, one of my favorite stories I’ll tell forever occurred.

James, who was our Step Mother, had his dressing room on the same floor as the stage. Around the corner, in fact. Somehow, the lock engaged on the handle, making him unable to get inside his dressing room after the ball scene to change back into his regular dress. We asked security if they could get someone to unlock it. They tracked down the lady with the keys and she came to unlock it, but didn’t have the correct keys. I asked James what he would do, and he had me hook his dress back up and said, “I’ll just make it work” in such a calm and composed manner. A true professional. I told him I’d wait for her to come back and bring his dress over. His cue, of course, was on the other side of the stage, and I had absolutely zero clue when he went back on, but tried not to worry about it. The lady got back and, about four or five tries later, got the right key and opened it. I thanked her, grabbed the dress, and looked around for anything else, spotting his wig/headpiece combo and grabbing it as well. Then, I ran, waving the wig so he’d see me coming, trying not to clomp backstage as I was in my character shoes. Tim, a hairdresser who was also the Head Wig Maker in the production (among other things) got his dress unhooked. James stepped into the costume, I shoved in his petticoat as Tim started working on switching out the wigs and headpieces. I got James’s skirt hooked and tried to start on the dress, my hands shaking, when someone behind me said, “start at the top!” And thankfully they did, my brain spaced and I hadn’t even thought of that. I told James I would keep going until his cue. Joe, our stage manager, came over with a flashlight and I went as fast as I could, taking about two tries on each of these bajillion hooks and eyes, feeling more hopeful with each one. As I got the last one fastened, I let James know I was done, and literally without a second to spare, he walked on in perfect timing for his cue. I looked at Tim, and said something like, “did we just pull that off?” then doubled over as the adrenaline coursed through my body.

I couldn’t recreate that if I tried. Had I stopped long enough to doubt or wonder if I’d have enough time, had I not ran, had she not had the right keys the second time, had I forgotten the headpiece–any of it and I’m sure loads more–it wouldn’t have worked, yet James sauntered on as if nothing happened out of the ordinary and the audience was none the wiser.

I have no doubt had James gone on in his ball dress he would have made it work, but I’m glad we were able to pull it off.

…and I just answered the phone at my courthouse job as “Corpus Christi Ballet,” so on that note, I’m gonna leave you with pictures and sign off. Please note, we got a good laugh at my mix-up.