Taking my first ballroom dance lesson this week had me thinking back to my introduction to dance when I was 6.
Mom signed Traci and me up for tap and ballet lessons at the Joan McGrath Dance Studio in Port Chester, NY. Classes were held in the masonic temple down the street from where we lived at the time.
We took lessons for just a short time — the costumes and other gear were pricey and so before long, swim lessons, clarinet, and Brownies won out.
Still, the experience made an indelible impression — and not just on me.
Years later, I became friendly with a PC native slightly older than me who said that as a child, she pressed her face up against the studio window, wishing she could be inside dancing, too.
These photos are from a May 1972 recital.
I particularly remember the unbridled joy that came with clip-clopping around in those tap shoes.
The red bows that held them in place make me smile still. And the chance to wear a fancy costume and a smudge of Mom’s lipstick? Priceless!
Funny how as I struggle to navigate the chaos and stress of midlife, I find myself returning to my childhood pastimes.