Dancing Through It: My Journey in the Ballet (29 page)

About two weeks after the review came out, I woke at the crack of dawn and carefully got ready for my appearance on
Today.
I’d gone shopping to buy a new outfit for the occasion—I wanted to wear clothes that showed my body and made me feel pretty. I’d also bought some new high heels to add a little bit of glamour. I left the house even before my early-bird daughter woke up and went out to the car NBC had sent to pick me up. I felt nervous and odd. James and I prayed before I left, and I knew that I had many friends and family praying for me. I felt that God was going to use this situation to help not just me but other young women who might be struggling with issues like mine. I knew that this would not be happening to me unless He had planned it, so I went along for the ride, determined to do my best.

I arrived at the studios at Rockefeller Center, and Rob met me at the entrance. His face had a “Well, here we go” smile on it as we were led back to the greenroom area by an assistant. I tried not to have a “Gee, golly” smile on my own face as I looked around at everyone bustling about the business of doing a morning news show. As the assistant turned to leave us, I nervously asked if someone would be doing my makeup. I’d only applied light street makeup, and I knew that I would appear very different on television.

“Oh, if you want, someone can touch you up.”

“Yes, please!” I exclaimed with relief.

In the makeup room, the familiar face of Suzy Alvarez, who also did makeup and hair for the dancers at the theater sometimes, greeted me. It was great to see someone I knew, and she made sure I was well taken care of. While I sat in the makeup chair, we watched the
Today
show in progress, and I couldn’t believe I was about to be one of the guests on the show. What if it went horribly wrong? What if they sat me on a stool and I fell off it on live television? What if they asked me a really hard
question and I sounded like an idiot and it got replayed over and over on YouTube? What if I spit when I talked, or drooled? My brain kept inventing ever more fantastic images of the disasters that could possibly happen until I had to force myself to stop thinking about it. And I prayed.

Rob and I had talked about all the possible questions that I might be asked, and I felt pretty prepared for every eventuality. I also knew that I wanted to be positive and not perpetuate the image of the critic-villain that Macaulay had become on the Internet. There was good that could come out of this whole situation, and I intended to help people see it.

Time passed swiftly, and before I knew it I was waiting off set to take my seat onstage during the commercial breaks. It was strange to watch Matt Lauer and Ann Curry as they did their thing for all of America from the tiny television stage. They were both very focused and professional, and though they had done this every day for a long time, they seemed to be on the ball and interested in every subject they discussed. I also loved watching the cameramen and backstage crew as they orchestrated the movement of different guests and different cameras. I’d experienced a lifetime of live performance, but the world of live television was entirely new to me.

It was very quiet on the set, even when the cameras were not on. During a commercial break I was ushered to a chair where I was to sit for a while so they could put me on camera a couple of times for the little “coming up later” moments they do on these shows. While Matt or Ann was telling the viewers my story and that I would be on later in the hour, I was instructed to sit in my chair, which thankfully was not a stool, and smile at the camera.

Now, I found this incredibly awkward and slightly hilarious. The periods of time that I was to stare smilingly at the camera felt endless. I felt my smile changing from normal to strained to embarrassed to pained. Worse, I could see the words of the prompter scrolling up the screen of the camera that I was looking into, and I could hear Matt reading them.

“Ballerina Jenifer Ringer was said to have eaten ‘one Sugar Plum too many’ by a ballet critic,” he intoned, as I gazed lovingly at the camera. A thought flashed through my mind: Maybe I should not be smiling about this? Should I poke out my lower lip and look sad and pathetic? Maybe I should have one of the assistants run and get me a doughnut so that I could hold it up to my mouth, smile, and then shrug? Each time I had to do one of those preview spots, the images of what expressions I could put on my face ran through my head like a comedy reel.

During the breaks, the people out on the sidewalk looking into the show’s set were waving wildly at me with excitement. I knew that none of them knew who I was, and had heard that later on in the show Jessica Alba was to make an appearance. Perhaps the onlookers were far enough away that they saw my dark hair and thought I was Jessica? I waved wildly back to them.

Finally, it was the commercial break before my segment. I gathered my scattered thoughts and focused on what I wanted to say. I felt a few butterflies fluttering under a blanket of odd calm. I said a little prayer, asking God to give me the proper words to say to whatever questions I was given.

Ann sat beside me, said hello warmly, and looked over her notes. And then one of the producers counted us down and I saw Ann snap into her on-camera mode, full of energy, similar to how I’ve seen dancers come alive in the split second between the wings and the stage.

Ann introduced the history of our segment and then turned to me.

“The first moment when you read those words—what was your immediate reaction?” she asked.

“It made me feel bad,” I replied. “It is embarrassing to see something bad written about yourself in print. So it did make me feel bad about myself. But I had to tell myself that it was one person’s opinion out of the two thousand people who were there that night. So where I am right now in my life, I was able to kind of move past it.”

“Do you feel that there is too much pressure on dancers and that they are likely to suffer eating disorders?” Ann asked.

“Well, it is a field where our bodies are important. As dancers, we’re taught to be perfect in every way. Technically, and in every way. I think, for me, I was sixteen when I became a professional. I wasn’t prepared to cope with being in an adult performing world so my coping mechanisms turned into eating disorders and body image issues. So for me, it was the inability to cope, really.”

Ann then asked me if the movie
Black Swan
was representative of the pressures ballet dancers were under.

I told her that I hadn’t yet seen the movie. But I added, “It is a physical profession where we’re dancing all day long. So when you are dancing all day long—I’m sure Natalie [Portman] lost weight just from dancing eight hours a day—truthfully you can’t do the job if you are too thin, and that’s where people run into trouble. That was my problem when I went through my eating disorder—with anorexia you are weak and you can’t do the job; you can’t perform it well.”

“So,” Ann said, “your reaction to the writer in the
New York Times
who basically said that you should understand that your line and body is something that should be written about—do you think it should be?”

“I think that this is a really complex question,” I replied, trying to make every word count. “As a dancer, I do put myself out there to be criticized. A dancer’s body is part of my art form. At the same time, I’m not overweight. I guess I do have a more womanly body type than the stereotypical ballerina. That is one of the wonderful things about the New York City Ballet. We have every body type—we have tall, petite, we have athletic, we have womanly, waiflike . . . we really have every body type out there. They can all dance like crazy, they are all gorgeous. And dance should be more of a celebration of that—that we’re seeing these beautiful women with these different bodies all dancing to this gorgeous music. And that’s what we should be celebrating.”

“So do you want an apology?” Ann asked.

I took a breath. “No, it’s his opinion and he is a critic and he is paid to put his opinion in the paper. And I know that as a dancer I’m going to
get criticized. And again, there were two thousand people out there. He got to put his opinion in the paper, but everybody else may have a different opinion as well.”

Ann then wrapped it up with, “And this morning you got to voice yours. Jenifer Ringer, you are really lovely. Thank you for appearing here and helping us start a dialogue.”

I felt much more comfortable talking to Ann than I’d expected. Overall, the questions didn’t end up feeling that difficult. The only one that took me by surprise was when Ann asked me if I needed an apology. I hadn’t thought about it. But it took me only a moment to realize that no apology was needed. It was over and forgiven, and hopefully now we would all move on.

I was ushered off the set quickly when my segment was over, and suddenly I was on my way home. Rob was pleased with the interview, and congratulatory texts poured into my phone from family and friends. I was happy about it, but the whole experience mostly felt surreal.

In the backseat of the car I looked over at Rob and said, “Okay, so do you think it’s over now?”

He smiled slightly and said, “No, I don’t think it’s over. Alastair might feel the need to respond. And I bet there are going to be many others who will want to hear what you have to say on this issue. But I really think this
Today
show interview is enough for now. What you said is perfect, and it was on live TV, so your words cannot be taken out of context and misconstrued. I think you can let it rest for now.”

I agreed with Rob’s wisdom. It had been important for me to say something, but now I could let my words stand and hopefully let the whole thing go.

After a moment, Rob chuckled and said, “Now, if Oprah calls, we’re definitely going to Chicago!”

I laughed too, imagining the unlikely scenario of appearing on
Oprah
. Wouldn’t that be something!

As the day went on and I processed the fact that I’d been on a national morning news show talking about weight issues, I began to
reflect on the events of my life twelve years before. Those dark weeks when I’d been so convinced that my life was worthless and that I’d failed at everything—what would I have said if someone had told me that I would one day be on television speaking words of strength and affirmation? And how amazing to think that God might be using my experiences to encourage other young women who might be having problems with their own weight and self-image. I could actually use what I went through to help other women on a much bigger scale than just the few dancers with whom I came in contact in New York.

Just how much this issue meant to people began to hit home as the day wore on. E-mails were sent to City Ballet and then forwarded to me, bearing messages of support. Though I was not really active on Facebook, I had an account with just my family members as friends and received hundreds of messages there from strangers speaking of how they were encouraged by my strength. I even heard from some mothers asking for advice for their own daughters. I wasn’t able to respond to any of these messages due to the volume, but was so touched by them and wished I could write every one back.

The rest of that morning was fairly normal for me. I picked Grace up from school and focused on being a mom. Later in the day, she and I were playing on the playground across the street from my apartment building when the day took a strange turn. A nice-looking man approached me with an inquisitive expression on his face.

“Are you Jenifer?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered, assuming he was a dad I’d met on the playground at some point and just forgotten.

But then he reached into his coat, pulled out a microphone, and held it up to me. Over his shoulder I noticed a news van on the sidewalk in front of my home.

“I’m with Channel Two News, and I wanted to ask you a few questions.”

“Really?” I said, shocked. I couldn’t believe that a news van had actually hunted me down. “How did you know where I live?”

“We have services that can find that out for us. Can I interview you?”

I stared at him, speechless. Surely, I wanted to say, there are many more important and newsworthy things for you to be spending your time on tonight!

“I’m with my daughter right now, so I really don’t want to talk. I’m sorry.”

He was nice but persistent and gave it several tries. I deflected him by suggesting he call City Ballet if he wanted to schedule an interview. With a regretful look, he said, “Well, it is kind of the news cycle
right now.
We would need to talk today, otherwise . . .”

I understood that if I didn’t talk to him now, the chance would be forever gone. I assured him that was quite fine with me, and he went back to his van.

The most disconcerting thing was that the van stayed where it was for another half hour. As I played with Grace on the playground, I felt uncomfortable and worried about going back home. Would there be more of them waiting for me there? This must be a small taste of what famous people feel like, I thought. And it was not pleasant.

The next day I was a tabloid headline. After dropping Grace off at her preschool, I walked to my local Trader Joe’s to buy groceries and saw a picture of myself on the front page of
AM New York.
“
Fat Ballerina Says ‘I’m Not Fat!,’” the caption read. I guffawed out loud on the sidewalk. What was happening? It was too strange for me to grasp, and I just went about my normal life, hoping it would all blow over.

—

R
ob and I agreed to turn down other offers for television appearances, and eventually things seemed to die down. But a month later, in early January, I saw Rob in a hallway of the theater.

“You won’t believe this, Jenny, but Oprah called,” he said.

Well, it was not Oprah herself, but a producer who was interested in
the story and wanted to do a phone interview with me. I was certainly game to do it. Oprah had such a huge audience—I started to wonder what God was doing here. Perhaps He had cast me for opening-night
Nutcracker
just so that this whole Sugar Plumgate, as we had come to call it, would happen. Perhaps God wanted there to be a discussion in the dance world about weight and body issues and eating disorders, and the review from Alastair Macaulay was the perfect catalyst. Whatever the reasons, I was in it for Him.