“Are you nervous?” Miss York asked as I shyly loitered back stage. I gulped and nodded. “Well don’t be… you look amazing and I’m sure your routine will be spellbinding.” she claimed.
It’ll be anything but! I might have reached grade 4 so for a twelve year old, I’m not a bad dancer… but that was ages ago and in spite of returning to my morning stretching routines and practising my arabesques and pirouettes, my chasse, saute and jete on a daily basis… I really don’t think I’ll be convincing as a ballerina. Boy’s are taught differently to girls and I rack my brains trying to recall how our dance tutors used to coach the girls. It’s subtle differences like the angle of our wrists and ankles, they way we’re supposed to hold our heads. Girls deliver their steps with a level of grace that the boy’s can’t achieve, so the boys tend to be more assertive in their approach. I never learned to flutter my fingers and wasn’t confident on pointe; a technique that I’d only just begun a few months before I quit. Whilst I’ve had a couple of months to bush up on my ballet, I’ve only had two weeks to learn to dance like a girl!
There’s nothing to do but limber up and linger whilst the other cast members are getting ready. At least all the other boys are wearing stage make-up too so I’m not the only one feeling shy and sheepish. But unlike mine, there’s isn’t so distinctly feminine. Some rehearse their lines, others chat in groups. The back stage crew scurry around and I find a quiet corner to do my final stretches and last minute practise. The stage manager (one of the fifth year students) eventually tells everyone to be silent back stage. “Dream doubles in the wings please.” he says. I and the others make our way to the wings, our nerves increase with every step.
Teresa who’s playing a school teacher is the first on stage. The rest of us wait in silence. Susan is dressed as an astronaut, Mark is a racing driver, Mary is a surgeon, Robert, predictably is a builder, Brian is a civil engineer and Rose is a computer programmer… and me… being a ballerina am the one they’re all staring at. The girls tell me I look cute and boys sneer and call me a faggot. “It’s not my fault John dropped out and Kelly stepped in.” I stated beneath my breath as the play acted out on stage. “I should have been like Billy Elliot, not Nikola Morova.”
“Who?” Robert asked as a teacher told us to shush.
“She’s a famous ballerina.” I said in hushed tones.
“So are you.” Mark sneered.
I gulped and glanced at the girls. Rose rolled her eyes and cast me a supportive smile. Mary mouthed ‘ignore him’ whilst Susan faffed with one of several hoses that hung from her costume. I look out to the stage and its schoolroom set. It’s in darkness apart from a spotlight on Emily who’s dreaming of becoming a teacher. On the platform above, her dream is being acted out by Teresa. Heard but unseen from my vantage point in the wings. Eventually Teresa exits the platform and the stage is fully illuminated once more. She rejoins us and despite that fact we could only hear her performance, we silently congratulated her on a ‘great’ performance.
The classroom skits in between our ‘dream’ performances are quite funny. They tease both teachers and pupils, poke fun at the national curriculum. The spotlight soon focusses on James and Mark’s performance as a racing driver begins. The sound of Fleetwood Mac’s The Chain booms through the PA speakers along with samples of formula one cars, speeding and skidding around the back-projected racing track. Butterflies burst into my belly because it’s my turn next. I focus on my routine, visualise the choreography, make sure I’m warmed up by putting my palms flat on the floor (making sure the other members of the cast don’t see my backside) before propping my ankle on the waist high rail and reaching out over my leg. I repeat on the other leg, knowing full well that they’re all staring at me. It is humiliating but I’m not going to dance without being properly warmed up. “That’s really impressive.” Teresa exclaimed under her breath. “How do you do it?” she asked.
“Lot’s of practice.” I replied as I put myself on point for a brief moment.