In my description on the right of this blog, I say that I’m a “dancer”. I’m wondering how that crept up on me. I’ve only been a “dancer” for two years. Even though I’ve done some sort of dancing for more than ten years, it was always an hour here, an hour there — not enough to define oneself as a dancer, the same way as occasionally painting doesn’t make one an artist. It is quite presumptuous of me to even say such a thing because I don’t have the strict discipline or special skill of a dancer.

7 to 8 years old – Ballet

When I was seven, I went through what every small girl goes through — the year of ballet lessons. Some rare individuals never grow out of it (Joanna), some do and then get back into it (Ai), some take the most incredibly roundabout route but somehow get there (Daniel and Fiona). I joined a ballet class after school at my primary school. I gave it up after a year and one performance of the Nutcracker because:

• At eight years old, I was self-consciously the biggest person in the class.
  

• I hated getting changed at school by myself in winter.
  

• Once, I got locked into the toilets by the cleaners who were closing up and I wailed for long minutes before a stranger heard me.

8 to 12 years old – Jazz Dance

Every day I went to after school care. It was a lovely. On Mondays, we did art. Tuesdays was cooking. Wednesday was tennis. Thursday we had dance classes. By the time I graduated from primary school, I had also graduated with my gold seal medal in jazz dance.

12 to 14 years old – Drought years

At the start of high school, I was distracted by kung-fu lessons. But my favourite part was always doing the forms (the patterns of moves – kata in karate, poomsae in taekwondo).

At Year 7 camp (with 100 people!), we had a dance social. No one knew anyone. The music came on. It was dark. The floor was like a desert. The twelve and thirteen year olds were huddled around the sidelines, terrified of getting on the floor. I couldn’t help myself — the music was there, I could feel the bass. I tried to drag some friends on the floor but they wouldn’t come. I went on by myself and I danced like no one was watching. People were cheering. After a song, the floor started filling up.

Even up to Year 11 and Year 12, people would come up to me and say, “Hey Joan, I remember when you started everyone dancing at Year 7 camp. That was awesome!” I think it was one of the defining moments of my life.

14 to 16 years old – Hip hop & jazz dance

You know, I can’t even remember why I began hip hop. I did it for a year and then somehow got conned into joining a competition troupe. The troupe competed in both hip hop and jazz events. One of my troup mates was Liz, only a few years older than me. I left the troupe to tackle the all important VCE (and also because my parents became sick of driving me around and paying for all the costumes).

18 to 19 years old – Belly dancing & jazz dance

Yes, I did belly dancing. ‘Nuff said.

19 to 22 years old – Partner dancing

• Street latin
  

• Latin
  

• Modern ballroom
  

• Club salsa

During O-week at uni, I saw a hip hop performance and I felt a pain in my heart. I didn’t realise I missed it so much, to perform in a group. There were no theatrical dance clubs at uni, only a dancesport one. After seven years of solo dancing, partner dancing terrified me. You have to touch people!

Kate convinced me to sign up for a social class with her (“No pressure! No medals if you don’t want.”). I started going to Friday night socials. My brother and I even taught hip hop at a few socials. By this time, the committee had sussed out that I was a keen bean then tricked me into becoming Secretary. Dancesport then consumed my life for about ten hours a week for two years.

• Swing

Damjan taught me eight-beat lindy hop in my rumpus room. I was awful, no frame, no style. That didn’t stop me from going to the FunPit and asking strangers to dance! Thank you, Damjan.

20 to 22 years old – Hip hop

Doing dancesport gave me the confidence to go back to hip hop and theatrical dance (and I could now drive myself around and pay for my own costumes). Remember my fellow troupe member Liz? By the time I came back to hip hop, she was my teacher and had created the FATD hip hop syllabus from scratch. I joined the advanced class and at the end of last year, was invited to begin teacher training.

Beyond 22 years old – ??

No more uni so no more dancesport club. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I love latin and ballroom but I don’t know how I can continue with it without committing to it in a big way. Even watching Dancing with the Stars makes me nostalgic.

Anyway, this month I’ll be audtioning for a senior hip hop troupe. The troupe will be training to enter the World Hip Hop Championships 2006 in Kuala Lumpar. I don’t know if I’m good enough but it seems like a worthwhile goal.

Thanks for reading this. I’ve never told anyone the full story before. Let me end in the time-honoured way of all dancers… DIP!