FCYU-Feature Story

Staying in Step
Dancing takes me further and higher

By Zachary Holman

No one would have expected me to become a dancer. I was born with a hip deformity that made me bowlegged and pigeon-toed. When I was 3, I wore leg braces to straighten my feet and then plastic things in my shoes called gate plates until I was 7.

When I would go for check-ups the doctors would bend my body around and they couldn’t believe how flexible I was. They would grab my leg and push it upwards and ask, “That doesn’t hurt?” I would smile and say, “No.”

Because of my condition I sometimes fell down. Actually, I fell down a lot because I wouldn’t stop running around in the park, playing basketball, playing football, and riding bikes. The doctor once counted all the scars on my body and told me I should slow down, but I always wanted to move and to be with my friends.

One day when I was 8 years old, I was watching BET. I fell in love with a song called “No More” by the group 3LW (Three Little Women). There was a dance piece in it, and I knew I wanted to learn that dance.

Breaking It Down

The “No More” video was on TV a lot that year. I would stare at the way the dancers’ legs, arms, feet, and heads moved. Then I would imitate them until I got the dance moves right. My big sister Ciarra would do the dance with me.

Ciarra started making dances up, pausing the music every 30 seconds to show me the moves. Once I got them, she’d rewind and we’d do it together. This pattern went on until the song was over and we had a full dance routine.

Soon I started helping her create moves. We made our first dance together to Michael Jackson’s “Remember the Time.” I got my ideas for moves from videos on television, especially Usher, Omarion, and Destiny’s Child. It wasn’t like stealing moves from people, just using them as a starting point to create something new.

Alvin Ailey

My aunt (who had adopted me) saw how much I loved dance and signed me up for classes at The Alvin Ailey Dance School. There were posters all over the subway with a man in mid-leap. Under his body it said “Alvin Ailey.” I wanted to be on a poster, too, inspiring kids to dance.

I’d never seen African dance before my class. The teachers danced for us the first day, and I liked the way they used their whole bodies. They’d swing their arms really big and lift their legs high.

The moves were easy for me because I was very flexible, and African dance is mainly about full extensions of the body. But it took a lot more energy than I expected; I was sweating and breathing hard. The teacher would walk around us while we danced and scream “BREATHE!”

It was the opposite of hip-hop dancing in a way. With hip-hop you make simple moves look gigantic on stage and with African dance every move has to be big. Hip-hop is more explosive, yet African has fuller extension.

In modern class we usually started with foot positions, then moved on to breathing techniques. The modern dance steps were more precise and sharp than African, which was very loose. They taught us about “dance levels”—in modern dance you’re always moving everywhere between low (lying on the floor) to high (jumping in the air).

My mom pointed out that foot positioning was good for me, because it opened up my hips. She also remembered that all my and Ciarra’s dances ended with us on the floor, so I must have had some modern tendencies from the beginning.

Onstage

In 6th grade my best friend Shondell and I started making up dances in the dance room we had in our school. The room was big with a long, wide mirror. The mirror helped me figure out what looked good and what looked bad.

Four of our friends, all girls, were already a step team. Then Shondell and I joined. Step is basically making beats with your hands and your feet by clapping, slapping your body, and stomping.

Everything I’d done helped me in step. The beats we made were hip-hop beats, hard and strong. Like in African dance, you have to extend your arms, and like in modern, you have to be sharp and in sync.

In 6th grade, our step team performed at the big annual school show. I was nervous. It was our first performance as a group and the auditorium stage was huge. I was glad I was with my friends. For some reason when I’m on stage with someone else I get more confident and do better than I would if I were alone. The performance worked out great and people loved it. From there my confidence grew.

Throughout my 6th grade year people saw our step team perform from the hallways to the big stage. My passion for performing grew. By 7th grade, I knew I wanted my own dance team. My teacher asked my class who would be interested in joining my group. Of course my friends who danced raised their hands and that’s how we became a group.

Stepping Up to Lead

Having a dance group was a major challenge. I had to be a leader in so many ways because I had to adapt to everyone’s needs in the group. I had to deal with people not wanting to dance, people not wanting to be in the group, and group members not getting along. We would be in the middle of rehearsal and we’d start arguing about the moves or just the way we spoke to each other. Sometimes we’d just all get mad and stop dancing.

Our arts teachers had to call meetings about commitment to a dance group and to remind us that were still human beings and we just needed to calm down because our dances were amazing. Those meetings helped a lot. Once we got past all the arguments and negativity, we were able to make the best dance we could.

In 7th grade and then again in 8th grade, I continued to choreograph for my team. I became more serious and dedicated to performing. I realized that dance was not just a hobby anymore; it’s something I want to do. It’s who I am.

I know I’ll need to do a solo dance to get into dance companies, but I don’t feel ready for that yet. I’m not sure why it’s so hard to rehearse and perform a solo. I’ll perform a poem I’ve written by myself on a stage, but I can’t dance by myself.

Writing was always something I had to do alone. No one could really help me but myself. What I write about is often painful and not usually things I’m proud of. Writing makes pain easier to deal with, but it’s lonely and not really fun.

But dancing has helped me be social and become a leader. There’s nothing to be ashamed of and a lot to be proud of when you’re dancing. Dancing has also helped me realize that I don’t like being alone. Being alone feels weird and uncomfortable.

I know that if I’m asked to dance a solo for a company I would, but solos scare me. I can’t even imagine continuing after I messed up in a solo, but with five other people around me I could. When I’m dancing, I think, “This is me,” but I never want it to be me alone.

I auditioned for arts high schools. The auditions were group classes, so you were judged on how quickly you picked up steps, not creativity and choreography. I was accepted into Lower Manhattan Arts Academy and will start there this fall.

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