Ballerina class is different

Ok, so pointe class.
It’s not a once-you-go-pointe-you-never-go-back type situation, which I used to kind of vaguely think it would be? When people refer to Going En Pointe it sounds kinda permanent, right? Maybe for little kids who are going pro it is? But not for me- I still have regular ballet class in soft pink leather slippers twice a week. And I swear things are making more sense in regular class after attempting them in ballerina class.
Btw, I asked twitter what you call ballet class to differentiate it from pointe class, and the response was pretty much: Duh, it’s called ballet class.
So, ballet class twice a week and ballerina class once a week.
And it totally is ballerina class. Yeah, we’re all in varying degrees of ripped black t-shirt and leggings, but when we’re all fussing with our shoes and our ribbons and our hair-dos pre-class I totally feel like I’ve stepped into a Degas.
In a good way.
We do not work on flexibility in ballerina class, at least at this level, nor any elaborate technique combinations.
Ballerina Class is all about the fact that we’ve got fucking stilts tied to our feet. Kind of dealing with that physically and mentally, like when you’re a little kid and running a mile seems totally impossible because, like, that’s something people do in cars, but then once you’ve done it and know you can run a mile, you realize you can also run two, or six, or ten if you’re feeling sassy, it’s all just a matter of getting over that first mental freak-out.
Had three classes so far, and class 1. pretty much hugged the barre, class 2. ventured out into Scary Center for about half the exercises, by class 3. was able to stay in center the whole class. A mental accomplishment as much as a physical one.
My main correction in ballerina class is ‘keep tummy in’.
This is thrilling! In that it is Not my usual ‘hold your chin up my dear’, which is a mental problem, I think, all wrapped up in self-esteem and stuff, whereas ‘tummy in’ is physical. So nice to have a physical problem!
Smirnoff works on the upper body in ballerina class, maybe to distract us from the fucking stilts. But so far I’m completely occupied with my feet. Can’t get my head out of my feet. Maybe in a few more classes.
Feet feel pretty ok! They were kind of complain-y the day after my very first class, so I was very solicitous of them and babied them all day, but now they have their big-boy pants on and seem to be all growed-up.
Still Thera-banding like a mug.
Toes are hilariously flat when I take them out of the shoes after class! Or, actually, the left big toe is flat across the tip, the right big toe looks like Gumby. Flat at a slant. Makes me think I’d better stop by the dance store later this week and investigate a toe-spacer. Also makes me sing, “…he can jump into any book, with his pony-pal Pokey too. If you’ve got a heart then Gumby’s a part of you!”
The other girls have taught me how to store my shoes between class, and I’ve gotten to check out their foot-padding methods, and I got a nice compliment after my third class: Best Girl asked if Smirnoff had broken-in my shoe for me, and when I said no she said she’d wondered because my feet are looking much more arched.
Woo!

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