Chasing a Dream

This is the big day. Lei has been preparing for this day her whole life. But, she still has so far to go, this is just one step closer to her dream. Today, she goes to the elite ballet school in New York City. Thrilled, she spent every waking hour practicing in any way possible for ballet, preparing for this day. 

Sitting in the dining room, she munches on the avocado toast. When will she sit in this room again, eating breakfast? How long will it be until she can return to her home in Hawai'i? She worries about all the adjustments she will have to make for her new lifestyle. What will the other dancers be like? The stereotypical mean-girl determined dancer? Or something else entirely? Thoughts consume her as she finishes her meal. 

As she finishes packing her room, she takes one long last look at her bedroom. Now, after packing all her sentimental belongings it looks more bare and empty than before. Still, the posters of famous ballerinas hang upon the walls reminding her of the passion she follows and holds so dear to her heart. 

Rolling her suitcase out the front door, she holds onto every little memory the house has given her. Although, she tries not to think about it too much or she may start to cry. She knows she is leaving all her friends, family, and the hot sunny days at the beach and the hours spent surfing the colossal waves in Hawai'i. She knows she is trading it all for her dream. She has worked so hard to get here, there is no possible way she can turn back now. In a few years, hopefully she will be dancing in the company among some of the greatest ballet dancers in one of the greatest ballet companies in America. 

Her mother and father wait for her at the car, their faces tight with worry. They douse her in kisses and loving comments.

“We are going to miss you so much, Lei.”

“Are you sure you want to go? We can still get a refund for the tuition.”

“What about your dreams about being a doctor? You don’t have to give up on them for dance.”

“We will call you every single day, and visit you as soon as we can.”

They don’t understand. They don’t understand how much she has always wanted this, longing for dance. She cannot become the dancer she wants to be with the limited ballet education here. She has to leave, and follow her dreams. 

“Yes Mom, and Dad, I still want to go! I will miss you too. I promise I will call you every single day,” she answers, slightly annoyed. But, she is going to miss them so much. 

Her parents drive her to the airport, and wait for the flight attendant to help her navigate the airport, as she is a underage minor. Her parents still badger her about changing her mind, and staying with them. Her mother feels guilty for letting her go by herself, but she has no choice because of their demanding jobs. Besides, she has an Aunt in New York City that will drive her to the school, and check up on her frequently. 

On the long flight, she reads her ballet magazines, books, and listens to music trying to distract herself from all the abundant possibilities awaiting her future. She can do this. She is strong, in body and mind. What will others think of her? Is her technique as advanced as the other girls and boys that have been training their whole lives? Will she stand out in a negative way due to her dark skin and her Polynesian background? She shakes the thoughts away and remembers to breathe in, and breathe out.

After a long flight and terrible sleep, her dark brown hair is matted, bags rest under her eyes, and her usually perfect posture turns into a slump. Yet, inside she cannot stop her thoughts about the ballet school she is yet to join today. It is early in the morning, 5:00. 

Trailing her suitcases behind her, as well as her dance bag, backpack, and purse she spots her Aunt waiting for her, a big sign stating her name. She wears slim, black, business looking pants, a coat, a white shirt, short black heels, and a purse. Her red lacquered nails cling onto the sign and her lipstick matches. She looks professional, nothing like her parents who lounge in their aloha shirts and flowy, hippie pants in their free time.

Apprehensive, Lei walks over to her Aunt, ussure what to say but wears a smile nonetheless. Thankfully, her Aunt does all the talking for her. 

“So, how was your flight? Are you excited to start today? Today’s a big day! Have you called your parents yet? Are you nervous? If you ever need anything, just call me. Don’t worry, I will be there to visit you a few times a week. We can explore New York together!” She says cheerfully. Lei tries to answer all of her questions with the same enthusiasm, but she cannot stop the butterflies in her stomach. 

Now, she is walking around the ballet school, full of awe as and adult guides her to her dorm while giving her a full run down of every important location in the school. She is shown to her dormitory, where she meets her roommate.

“Hi, I’m Katy,” her roommate says, introducing herself. Lei does the same, thankful she was able to make herself presentable at her Aunt's house. Katy bombards her with questions.

“So, where are you from? How long have you been dancing for? Have you been to New York before? How old are you? What level are you in?” Lei answered all her questions, reciprocating the same friendliness. She figures out that they are around the same age, 16 years old. And, they are in the same level. Lei unpacks everything to its place in the tiny dorm, trying to make it feel like home without intruding on Katy’s space. Lei gets ready for her first ballet class at the New York Ballet school, taking extra time to do her hair perfectly, and putting on her most flattering black leotard. First impressions are everything, after all. Katy guides Lei to her class, and it all seems like a dream as she meanders down the white hallways. 

The studio is a dream. Bigger than she has ever imagined, so much larger than the one at her old school. When she sees the grand piano in the corner of the room, she nearly cries. Everything is perfect. Lei and Katy warm up in the studio together before class starts. 

The ballet master walks into the room, and today it just happens to be the artistic director of the whole school. She nearly has a panic attack. 

“To those of you students who are new this year to this school, welcome. I am Mr. Michael, the artistic director of the New York City Ballet School. I hope that you all have found your way around the school, and if any of you have questions, feel free to always ask me or another staff member. I know that joining a boarding school can be daunting, so I am here to help.” His voice booms in the echoing room as he stares at us intently, contradicting his attempt at a friendly tone of voice. He drones on for a few minutes longer about the rules and expectations and dedication that the school requires. Then, he decides it is time to dance. Suddenly, Lei’s pointe shoes feel as heavy as lead on her feet and her brain forgets how to function for half a second. Breathe in, breathe out, she reminds herself. She claims her spot at the barre, while paying close attention to the combination that is given. 

The music on the grande piano starts, and she begins. In sync with the music, she moves beautifully combining technique, grace, musicality, and artistry she has worked so hard to achieve. It is the beginning of her journey to achieve her lifelong dream. Each breath, each move, she comes closer to her goal. She belongs here, and she knows it. It is her time to shine, brighter than a shooting star.