In an instant, all those plans went out the window as we shut our doors and locked ourselves inside for the foreseeable future.
I went from being a freelancer, a choreographer, dancer, journalist, teacher, text consultant and a few other things to the director of a modest, mixed-aged home school.
And the strange thing that I am experiencing these days is relief.Read more
Last year, at the end of the weeklong celebration of Purim, my older daughter declared that she would like to dress up as a character from Disney’s Descendants next year. For the other days, Famous Day, Pajama Day, Countries Day, we made a plan a week in advance. We knew exactly what she wanted to dress up as on each day. The night before the first dress-up day, we tried on her Frida Kahlo costume (which was gorgeous I must admit). She looked at herself in the mirror, beaming.
The next morning, as she was going to get dressed she said,
“I don’t want to dress up.”Read more
This memory guides me to the very first dance studio I ever saw. It had a name: Sala Rossa. It was a bright red box of a room with golden barres and pictures of famous ballerinas hanging on the walls. All very anxiety-inducing for my likes. I’m surrounded by slim, beautiful girls walking like elegant cats, holding onto the barre for balance in ways that seem effortless to me.Read more