Six hundred fifty or more filled seats beckon with their thirteen hundred eyes for the show to begin as the orchestra warms up in the pit near the front of the theater.  The dancers back stage are making the final adjustments on their costumes, pinning that last stand of hair back, and making sure their ribbon is securely tucked into their pointe shoes. Then, a dead silence envelopes the whole theater right before the show begins. In those few milliseconds, even though it is silent, you can feel the anticipation from everyone around you. This is that ever-anticipated moment, right before the magic begins.

Performing is my favorite thing to do. Every day I go to dance class and all the countless, exhausting hours in rehearsal lead up to that moment when I get to be on stage. Each year my ballet school puts on the production of the Nutcracker, and each year I work my hardest to be noticed by the director so that he will give me a lead part in the show. Finally, just last year it happened. I was cast as Chinese lead, a short part in the beginning of Act II.   I knew that this was my opportunity to prove myself and to shine.

In the few weeks that lead up to the premier of the Nutcracker performances, I worked hard at rehearsal every day. In fact, I had made a point to learn the dance before rehearsals even started.

I remember my director once said, “I am very impressed on how fast you have learned this. I think you will have to teach me the dance instead of me teaching you!”  

This said, the dance world is harsh. I received countless corrections on my arms and turns from several different teachers throughout the many rehearsals. I didn’t mind the corrections because they only caused me to work harder.

A week or two before the first show, we were called into the costume room for costume fitting. The Chinese lead costume was a flowery kimono type fabric over a traditional Chinese shorts and top.

“You will dance beautifully in this,” the costume fitter said to me.

I admired the fabric and excited anticipation started to fill my body with the idea of performing onstage by myself in just a couple more days.

The day of the opening performance came awfully quick.  The first performance started off like it would for any normal show. We all arrived at the theater early for warm up class on stage and then proceeded to start getting ready backstage. I quickly layered on the rich makeup and sprayed back my hair in to a beautiful ballet bun.  For just a moment my heart bounced up into my throat when I realized I have forgotten to pack my false eyelashes. 
“Don’t worry,” said my best friend, Ami, “I figured you would forget. Here is an extra pair you can borrow.”
When intermission came around for the first show I frantically secured my pointe shoes and put on the beautiful Chinese costume. My stomach began to flutter and I could hear my heart pounding in my chest.

Before I entered stage left, my mom found me back stage and quickly uttered, “I know you will do an amazing performance. Go out there and do what you love to do.”

I went out on stage and practiced my routine over and over before intermission ended.

My teacher, Whitney Sue, yelled over to me, “Danielle, you will do fine. Just smile and everything will be ok.”
Finally it was the moment I was waiting for. The final note of “Spanish,” the piece immediately before my solo, rang out and the dancers existed stage, and there was the moment of silence. In the moment of silence a sense of calm fell over me and I took a deep breath. The music started and I went out there and did what I loved to do. My feet were doing one thing and my mind was doing another. I had the biggest smile on my face the whole time and then after a blink of an eye it was over. I made my final bow as the audience exploded with applause. I only wanted more and more time on stage. I promised myself that I would feel that joy every time I went on stage.

Back stage crew whispered, “Good job,” and I walked toward the stage exit. 

I stood a little bit taller and I couldn’t wipe the smile off of my face as I took the trip back to the dressing room to wait for final bows. When I entered the stage again for final bows the smile reappeared again and I mentally soaked up that moment of stage like a sponge absorbs water. All eyes were on me and the audience cheered. The curtain closed at the end of the show and I felt my heart longing for more.