Alisa's+Page

= = = = = Alisa is currently a student of English at CU Boulder. She is passionate about music, books, and above all being Aunt Lasa to 7 nieces and nephews. =

media type="file" key="Lisa_Believes_In_Dance6 (1).mp3" align="center" width="240" height="20" = =  ** “There are shortcuts to happiness, and dancing is one of them.” –Vicki Baum **

I believe in the power of ** DANCE **. Every time I watch a dance, I see the emotions behind each movement, the self-discipline in the dancer’s every muscle, and the raw dedication embedded in the piece as a whole. Dance is an art that requires athletic skill, commitment of mind and body, and creativity.

Dance has been a major part of my life since I was five, and even from such an early age, I demonstrated my own creativity. One of my first dances was a tap piece to the song, “Never Smile at a Crocodile.” We wore a full-on crocodile costume, complete with crocodile “feet” that strapped on over our tap shoes, and a **//giant //** crocodile head that displayed our wide-eyed, shining, five-year-old faces in the center of the crocodile “mouths.” I stepped onto the stage, somewhat hesitantly click-clacking my way, along with my other dance-mates, to our first formation. It felt like hours before the music finally started, and our little feet went into auto-pilot, carefully tapping what they had been trained to do. When I became conscious that I was dancing, became aware of the audience smiling and “// aww //”-ing, and the occasional flashes coming from cameras, I was filled with a new sense of excitement and accomplishment. However, as I shuffle-ball-changed, five-year-old me started to worry that the audience may **//not//** know that it was me dancing, that they may actually think I’m a crocodile! Thinking fast, I jerked back my head, successfully removing the crocodile’s jaws from around my face. **//Now//** feeling free to really show who I was to the audience, I continued dancing, proudly beaming.

After the crocodile costume malfunction, as my mother referred to it, I continued competitively dancing in a company through my elementary and middle school years. During that time, not only did I learn the importance and rewards of dedication, but I also gained a certain **//confidence //** while dancing, a self-assurance that inevitably spilled over into my life outside of dance. I went through some trying times in those years. From the sicknesses of loved ones to the loss of close friends, **//always//** I had the strength and emotional release of dance.

Dance gave me the courage to become involved in my high school, as I took a step back from the competitive dance world. There, I joined the poms team and discovered a whole new feeling from dance, the feeling of **//teamwork //**. Poms pushed me to my physical limits, showing joy and praise for individual victories like getting your splits, or nailing a part of the dance with particular sharpness. At the same time, poms reinforced the importance of collaboration, reiterating the motto **//“We are only as strong as our weakest dancer.”//** Together, we kept one another strong.

Today, I look forward to a summer dance workshop that I attend every year and still take the occasional dance class in between, and can always be found dancing around my house, or on campus while on my way to class. For me, dance has been and continues to be a **//journey//**. It has taught me to work hard for what I love, appreciate the art and emotions embedded within each movement, and above all… When nervous or facing self-doubt, just throw back the crocodile head, and **//show who you are //**.