Xi's Dancing Journey
I started to learn ballet when I was 5 years old. From the first day of my dancing journey, I was always accompanied by a pair of pink ballet shoes. The pink shoes, the symbol of a serious dancer, made me feel proud. The size of the shoes changed as time went on, the baby pink gradually faded to grey, or the leather wore out. But then a new pair of pink shoes came.
When I was young, I didn’t know if I even loved dancing. The only thing I knew was how hard it was: a 3-hour class every Sunday from 3:45pm to 7:00pm; a one hour bus each way to and from my dancing school. There I was… ten years old on my own, clutching my bag with my pink ballet shoes and dancing clothes in it. During that time I had a recurring nightmare: I forgot to bring my dancing shoes to a performance. In my dream, I was the only barefoot dancer. My teacher and the audience stared at me. But I wanted to dance so badly. I was shy and sensitive. I was afraid to talk to people. It was hard to make new friends, and dancing gave me confidence.
Then something happened. There was a fast-growing tumor in my knee. The doctor was surprised to see this in someone so young. He said that it usually happened in soldiers because of their high-intensity training. After the surgery, I was told that I could no longer do ballet. The shoes were placed in a corner during my high school years.
When I was a freshman at university, I was chosen to perform in the Asian Games Opening Ceremony with 300 other girls. It was the first time I danced since the surgery. And it felt great to dance again. So I joined the dancing team in my university and spent the next 3 years doing Chinese folk dance. Now I am a graduate student at NYU. I joined the NYU Asian Fusion Dance Club. I bought a pair of ballet shoes again and practice Chinese minority groups’ dance every week. Even though so much has changed in my life, there is still a pair of ballet shoes by my side.