It’s fun to say I quit my pointe class, because it sounds all dramatic like I stopped mid-chainé and yelled EFF THIS and tore my tutu off and slammed it down on the studio owner’s desk and stomped out all defiant (and loud, because pointe shoes are loud),
but the whole truth of it is that while I was in the yucky process of admitting that this class wasn’t working for me, the class was totally loosing attendance and dwindling down and about to be cancelled anyway. Which I could totally feel happening around me. In fact I considered not leaving the class at all but just sticking with it until it’s bitter end just so I could feel all virtuous like I hadn’t given up, you know, like I wasn’t one of the ones who flaked, but that would be dumb and not honest.
What is honest:
Earlier this year when I was in a vague goal-making mood, I made a vague goal to work back up to pointe in a couple years, like add classes to my week so that I’d be up to the two to three classes per week they recommend for pointe,
You know, They,
Figured that would probably be a goal for maybe 2016. With a new teacher. Because as much as I love my teacher, his style is to sketch out the general gesture of a thing and then refine it, which works well enough for regular ballet class, but I knew, in the back of my head, in my vague goal-making planning sessions, that I hadn’t enjoyed that approach to pointe and I wanted to try it a different way next time.
But then this pointe class just happened, like bam out of nowhere, and I already had shoes and it was actually a time I could do on a day I could do, and, you know, it’s like when someone hands me a piece of cake, I’m not going to be all like, “Oh, no thanks, this isn’t the exactly perfect cake to fulfill all my super-specific cake needs, I’ll just wait a couple years until The Right Cake comes along, thanks though.”
No, I’m gonna shut up and think ‘Oh what a nice treat! How lucky I am!’ and take the pointe class. I mean cake. This is just a reality of taking ballet as an adult. Pointe for adults is rare, it might never be available again, eat it while you can.
Actually cake is a bad example because the Adult Beginner routinely turns down cake. Unless it’s an especially good looking cake or there are political ramifications to turning it down, I’d rather just not and have a mocha later. Or ice cream. Or a mocha ice cream. But I’m kind of whatever-y about cake. Remember back when you were a kid and all you wanted in life was the giant icing-rose from the corner piece of a big ol’ cheap grocery-store sheet-cake? God, those things loom mythological in my mind.
Some specific things about this pointe class:
1. Regular ballet class is an hour and a half and costs $20. Pointe was just a half hour but cost a whole ‘nother $20. That is a lot, even when you are working. I’m not working. When class starts late and that first plié slides to five past, ten past, fifteen past, more, and suddenly you realize you are paying $40 for a slim hour and a half total, you start to feel like some kind of chump. Or at least I did. I should note here that Mr. Adult Beginner is totally cool with me spending his money on ballet class as long as it makes me happy, but I wasn’t happy I was some kind of chump.
2. This class was started at the request of the students, with the condition that there must always be a specific number students or else the class would have to be cancelled. And everyone swore up and down that the core group would always attend, and anyone else was icing (giant sheet-cake-rose icing). Not me, I made it clear that I couldn’t commit because baby, so don’t count me in. I ended up being in. Last pointe class I took, I was one of two. Two! Down from ten at the first class! Not cool. Not cool for anyone.
Moral is: if you are starting a pointe class for adults, it can’t be drop-in. Make all them bitches pay for like two months up front. As a show of commitment, and to get everyone to actually look at their damn calendars and figure out if they can really be there or not.
3. This is kind of a weird one, but I gotta tell you Gentle Reader, I felt really apprehensive about even telling you about quitting pointe. I dreaded it.
I totally appreciate the advice and encouragement you’ve given while I was in the pointe class, and I appreciate that you understood when I left.