A Crazy Little Thing Called Encouragement
Miriam Fields
"You are amazing," Miss Rachel smiled as she sat down next to us. "Anyone who can find the courage to wear a wig-on stage- and play a boy-on stage-, who happens to really be a girl, has tons of courage."
"Well, it's fun. And you're a good party mom." Miss Rachel was one of my favorite teachers at the studio. When we were in a production together, which happened almost yearly, it was always fun. This year we got the good fortune of being cast in the same scene in The Nutcracker, and, with her being my party mom, kind of my "mom on stage," we spent a lot of time together.
"Don't you need to take your makeup off," Ashley inquired. "I mean, you need Party Mom makeup for this one, not Arabian Princess."
"So true, so true," Miss Rachel said, but she remained stationary. Ashley was one of my best friends. She was two years younger than me but, I thought, that didn't really matter. Ashley began to take tiny bites out of her first brownie, while Rachel gazed knowingly down at Ashley's plate, where ten more brownies were heaped. The windows surrounding the conference room showed a huge amount of large snowflakes drifting by. It was a wonder that you could actually see the mountains, because you would normally not even see an outline of them against the gray sky and the thickly falling snow.
"So, Olivia," Miss Rachel said in her kind, gentle voice. Olivia was yet another friend I had made at the studio. "Yeah," Olivia intoned questioningly.
"You need to stop talking on stage," Rachel said rolling up her schedule of the show and slapping Olivia playfully on the head.
"But it's the party scene; that's what everyone's supposed to be doing, is talking," Olivia laughed. "But you're not supposed to actually say words out loud," Rachel said getting up. "I'm changing my makeup. I'll see you guys backstage."
One thing that I had noticed was that Rachel looked very tired and annoyed. Though she had been friendly and smiling to us, I could sense discouragement around her. It looked as though she needed to attend a real dance class, not a rehearsal, and loosen up; maybe stretch a bit. The dark circles under her eyes weren't a comforting sight.
I was surprised that Ashley hadn't begun to feel sick yet. She had consumed four more brownies when she had finished her first eleven. We had just begun the party scene, and Ashley was her normal, smiling, happy self. Olivia, oblivious to Miss Rachel standing behind her, began chatting with one of her other friends. Rachel gave her a withering look and walked away. I started giggling when Rachel began talking to another party mom. Because the party scene was more acting than dancing and was never exactly the same, the audience never noticed little things like these. But to think that Miss Rachel had broken her own rules, and one of the most important on stage; it was hilarious. The bright lights gleamed down on us, and though it was hot and hard to see, everyone played their parts with perfect clarity.
"How goes it?" Miss Rachel, who had swept over to me, whispered. The dark circles were even more pronounced now. "I thought you said that we weren't supposed to talk," I shot back.
"Well, maybe I changed my mind. Plus, I just love that suit on you. I had to tell you how great it looked."
"I don't get it. You make a rule, and then you drop it and start talking like you never meant it." "Well, maybe I didn't mean it."
"What happened to being a teacher? You're supposed to be a role model for all of us."
"You're going to miss your cue," Rachel declared. "And I'm not going to be the one to take the blame." She swept away, her red and gold party dress swirling around her feet. I sincerely hoped that she wouldn't get her character shoes caught in it. As I rushed forward to take my cue, Rachel winked at me. I felt my spirits rise farther then they already were. I knew, somehow, that I was going to play the rest of my part perfectly.
After we were done performing, Ashley, Olivia and I went to the theater to watch the second half of the show. Miss Rachel was the Arabian Princess, and none of us wanted to miss it. I couldn't help but glance sideways at Ashley. She still was bouncing around, her normal, talkative self. I was pleased to see she wasn't sick. Olivia, of course….we had to inform her to be quiet so that we could watch the show. Finally, when Rachel came on, she caught her breath in her throat and her voice faltered in the middle of a sentence.
"Wow," Olivia breathed. After uttering this single word, she lapsed into silence. Rachel had a billowing outfit of green and gold. It flowed and swayed around her feet.
"Nice costume," Ashley whispered. "How pretty is that? "
At the beginning of the piece, I noticed that Miss Rachel, though still playing her part, she looked doubtful and reluctant, like she really didn't want to be there in front of everyone. I raised a hand and waved at her. Suddenly Miss Rachel, I knew, had seen me. She smiled and her performance became beautiful and loose, unlike the tight, compressed wreck it had been. I loved the music and the slow artistry that coupled with this piece. Although many fast moves were used, it all looked quiet and long and slow. How Rachel made it look like this, I never could find out.
"You were really amazing," I said leaping in front of a seemingly busy Rachel, who was autographing the programs that were being pushed in front of her nose.
"Thanks," she muttered, quickly scribbling just her initials on the next program. "Here, I'll be right back," she turned her head to look at me as she was dragged off by some adoring fans, to take a picture with their daughter. I laughed as she walked back into view, looking slightly annoyed. I caught my breath when she kept glancing ferociously over her shoulder at the family who had taken their picture with her, and looking fairly horrified at the sight of them pushing one of the other cast members, a flower, towards the place where a tiny girl, most likely their daughter, stood.
"Anyway," she whispered, in a trembling voice, "I don't know how it was light enough, but I saw you guys watching and it made me- I don't know- kind of…. smile and keep going."
I then realized that this one show was not only for the pleasure of our audience, but for us as well. We had helped each other to learn and grow as dancers. Ashley, Olivia and I had somehow encouraged Miss Rachel to keep going. And Miss Rachel had encouraged us, somehow, to keep going as well. The powers of friendship and hope had been the greatest gifts of the holiday season.