Dear Alexis,
I owe you an apology. For over a year, a significant portion of your life, you have been telling me that there was a problem, but I didn't truly understand what you were trying to say. I don't know that I would have given you what you wanted if I had understood, but I certainly would have handled it differently. For that, I am sorry.
It took a few words from another parent for me to see it. She spoke a simple sentence out of sheer frustration with the situation. In that instance, it was like the clouds parted, a ray of sunshine shone straight down on me, and an angel fell from the sky and smacked me across the face. Captain Obvious came flying in right after that angel and he gave me a thorough lecture on not seeing what was right there in front of me the whole time. In those moments, I flashed back over the past year and a half, and it was all crystal clear.
You told me a long time ago you didn't like a particular dance teacher. What you really meant was that the dance teacher was making you feel inferior, not good enough, and uncomfortable. I am so sorry that I didn't see it.
The thing with dance and gymnastics class is that I LOVE watching you. You may or may not recall this little fact, but I didn't miss a moment of the action. I eagerly sat on the other side of that window watching your every move. I could have ran errands during your class, or gone shopping, but that's not what I wanted. I wanted to watch you have fun, and watch how you interacted with your peers and others when I wasn't influencing your actions. I don't get to do that often, so I willingly put up with a number of challenges that sometimes came with being on the other side of that glass. To put it mildly, sometimes it was damn hard being surrounded by parents who are very different from myself, but I sat there anyway. I wanted to see you.
I was so busy trying to see you, so wrapped up in my own self-created drama and challenges, that I didn't think to look at things through your eyes. I knew you weren't a fan of that one teacher, and I understood that (frankly, I can't say that I "like" her either, but it's a matter of her being a very different type of person than I am--I wouldn't want to hang out with her over a cup of coffee, but I respected the skills she brought as an experienced dance teacher). I saw the whole issue as one of those things that is just a part of life. I figured you might as well learn early that sometimes you have to deal with people you don't like, and that you might as well do it with a smile since you can't control it. I still think that was an important lesson, and I'm glad you learned it.
I'm not glad I didn't see the signs. They were there, and they all came together for me today when that other parent made a comment. There was that time you got in trouble for talking too much during class. I couldn't hear everything that was said through the window. In fact, I didn't hear you talking at all, but I did hear the scolding you got. It seemed odd at the time. You? The kid who is terribly shy? Talking in class? It's seemed almost impossible. It seemed like something that should be celebrated, not scolded. Yet, I understood that chatter could be destructive in a classroom environment. I had previously witnessed another little chatterbox in the class manage to completely derail a lesson for over five minutes. So, I gave the teacher the benefit of the doubt. I tend to do that a lot. Your dad would say I do it too much. He might be right.
I gave the teacher the benefit of the doubt another day when something she said to you sent you straight to tears. You never did tell me what she said, just that she hurt your feelings, so I assumed that your tender little heart misunderstood something. It's not all that rare for you to get your panties in a bunch over something innocent.
There were other signs, lots of signs. I see them now, after the thirty minutes of blatant favoritism I saw today. Today was your final show, the final class of the season. We had already decided to switch to a more convenient dance/gymnastics place this fall, and THANK GOODNESS. I promise to never, ever make you go back to that place again.
You missed the drama as you were so busy enjoying your chance to show off all that you learned. I'm glad for that because, my dear, it was awful. Horrendous. Horrible. I won't pretend to understand what was going through the mind of the teacher, but I have to think her blatant favoritism is deep-rooted in her core need to make all things dance and gymnastics be very serious. I've always thought she's better with bigger kids, because she really can't stand it when poses and such aren't done exactly right.
Here's the thing--no matter how hard you try, I think it's safe to say you do not have a future as a professional tap dancer. First of all, you prefer ballet and jazz and modern dance. Tap? You are very -meh- about tap. You do it and you do it with a smile on your face, but you don't really try to get it exactly right. Joy radiates from your every molecule when you're doing ballet, but tap really seems like it's more of a tolerated thing for you. Not only is tap not really your thing, but your shyness slows you down when it comes to performances. I suppose that the teacher sees a little kid who is too shy and lacking the natural talent to perform even a simple dance number, so why bother even taking classes? To her the only end result just may be a life dedicated to dance, so she may not see that this "goofing off" that I encourage you to do is valuable, albeit in a totally different way.
The was another little girl in your class who may just have a future as a dancer. There are a lot of reasons to think that. It doesn't matter, though, because this isn't about that little girl.
This is about how that teacher stood there, in that room, completely focused on one student while completely ignoring you and a classmate (there were only three kids in your class this semester). It went on for over thirty minutes. It continued despite comments to the teacher. She followed that one girl around from one apparatus to another, completely focused on her every move. While she helped you with the uneven bars once, she helped that other little girl countless times. It was so blatant that the parent of the other ignored girl said something to me, and that's when I saw it all so clearly.
You're not that teacher's favorite. In fact, I'm not even entirely sure she likes you. As I look back at all of the pieces, I think she may believe you are a waste of her time as a serious dance instructor.
Let me make one thing crystal clear, Alexis. You are absolutely positively NEVER a waste of anyone's time.
I'm sorry that blatant favoritism got in the way of your fun. I should have seen it and I should have addressed it early on. I promise to watch more closely in the future. I promise to give you the benefit of the doubt more often. I promise to try to see things through your eyes and truly understand what you are trying to tell me when you voice concerns about a situation.
I might need you to remind me from time-to-time, please and thank you.
I love you kid, and now we can work together to find the funnest most amazing dance/gymnastics teacher that ever did walk the earth. I know exactly where we're going to start. :-)
Much love,
The Momma Who is Quite Certain You Were the Cutest Kid in the Show and Who is Insanely Proud of How Well You Did Today
