Many thanks to everyone who reads and reviews - I haven't updated as much as I would like, and I do apologize. An extra special thanks to luvtheheaven, who is a beyond amazing beta.
August 25, 2012
Dear Finn,
I spent my first two years at McKinley as a little fish in a big pond. My senior year I was a big fish in a small pond. Now I'm a little fish once more. NYADA is a huge pool of talent, and I am once more at the bottom of the talent totem pole – and I have a dance teacher to remind me of it every day.
Dance was never an issue for me before. Granted it's not my strongest talent – but it's not like I'm some uncoordinated clog who trips on her own two feet. I've taken dance classes for years, participated in ballet recitals, gone through several different kinds of tap shoes. But my Dance 101 instructor thinks that I'm an idiot – in fact she just about said as much at the end of my first class.
You know, I think Mr. Schue spoiled us in Glee Club – always praising us, giving us hope, telling us that we're 'special and unique'. How do I go from that to this instructor who makes verbal abuse an art form? She didn't have one positive thing to say to me this week – not one. And worse than that, she goes out of her way to criticize me. Granted there are several others at the wrong end of her verbal tirades, but she seems to delight in humiliating me. We're all freshmen in the 101 class, and Ms. July says that only two of us are good enough to pass.
It's not the fact that she pushes us; I'm no stranger to hard work. But the fact that she offers no encouragement, no compassion for her students…I didn't think that people like that could be teachers.
My other classes are going well. I'm particularly enjoying my two musical theatre classes. I can see myself doing this for the rest of my life – as long as I get through Dance 101 with Cassandra July!
I finally met my roommate – Miss Amanda Malloy. We haven't actually talked though. It seems that Miss Malloy has a very steady boyfriend here in the city and she is very occupied with spending time with her beau – in our room…regardless of if I'm there or not. She doesn't even have the decency to put a scrunchie on the door to tell me that she's with him. I don't even know if she's left the room to go to class. I'm writing this in the stacks at the library because I cannot be in that room any longer.
Now that everyone's moved into the dorms, I am facing a bit of ridicule and mockery over my extensive morning and evening rituals – some of my dorm mates do this to my face. I have no solace in the dorms; I haven't made any real friends there yet. I've been able to strike a few conversations in my classes, but living arrangements are unpleasant at best. Maybe I should look into moving into the library? I think I'd go through with it if it wasn't so stuffy in here.
I sincerely hope that Infantry School is going better for you. Any more word on where you'll be stationed?
Stay safe
Rachel