Everything I Learned About Life, I Learned in Dance Class (17 page)

It is never too late to dance. Your fourteen-year-old daughter may be interested in auditioning for her high school musical or the school play, something that involves movement, so I think it would be great for her to take a jazz class or a ballet class or perhaps both. As far as flexibility goes, that’s free and you can certainly work on it at home. Get your butt down into that split, and if you can’t do it, blame yourself, because if you want to be in a split you’ll get in a split. It takes time and repetition, but you can do it.

Abby

BE TRUTHFUL WITH YOURSELF

When I say, “Be truthful with yourself,” I think about kids looking in the mirror and seeing something else. They think they’re good and that they’re working hard. They think they’re on the right foot when they’re not. Again, times have changed. Years ago, the girls in my senior company looked in the mirror and somebody knew when she was off and corrected herself. One kid would open her mouth to another person and ask her why she was late on the counts. They would bicker between each other about who was right and who was wrong. They used to look in the mirror and make the necessary corrections and help each other.

I think one out of one hundred children is born with natural rhythm. Another nine can learn it. The other ninety, oh well.

The kids used to step up and say, “I’m late. We just did the dance ten times and I was late ten times. What am I doing wrong? Can somebody go over it with me?” Kids today don’t do that. They just do it wrong time after time after time because they think they look good. Why wouldn’t they? Their moms are telling them how great they are every five seconds.

But if they aren’t in front of a mirror, sometimes I’ll ask, “Do you wear contacts?” If they say, “No, why?” I’ll say, “Because you’re seeing through rose-colored glass, and I don’t know where you found that rose-colored glass because it’s not in this room. Here there is only clear glass.” I want my dancers to open their eyes and see what’s really going on—be truthful with yourself! When I look in the mirror, I see a size six Prada. Unfortunately, nobody else does.

Natural ability has to be taken into account. The genes handed down from generation to generation count. Was your child born with the facility and body type for the future she desires? If this isn’t your child, evaluate her other talents. Some of my kids are great dancers and average students in school; they want to be stars for a living. I ask them, “Do you want to go to college or do you want to dance?” You have to assess your options. Is the choice between a scholarship to Harvard and dancing on a cruise ship? It’s a no-brainer—go to Harvard! Or is the choice between heading up Route 79 to a Pennsylvania state school with a boatload of student loans or starring on Broadway at the age of eighteen? Big difference.

Dear Abby:

My daughter just won a competition, and I would like to give her dance teacher a gift to show our thanks. What do you suggest?

I can tell you what you shouldn’t get your kid’s dance instructor—don’t buy a big flower arrangement and have it delivered to the dance studio. That says, “Look at me—I just won a competition!” It’s not personal—it’s something that everyone is going to see at the studio, and in a few days it’s going to end up in the trash can. If your kid’s instructor has gone above and beyond, then by all means get her a gift, but make it something that’s both personal and useful. I suggest a department store or gas gift card, or if she’s a coffee lover, then a Starbucks gift card. I guarantee you that these gestures of thanks won’t go unnoticed by your kid’s instructor, and it just might make a difference when she is making a decision about who to give a solo to or who to feature in a group performance.

Abby

FAILURE MAKES YOU STRONGER

If you have the ability to pick yourself up by the bootstraps and start over, you come out stronger because you learn from whatever mistakes you made. This goes for me too. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my past. I’m thinking now of the time I put all my eggs in one basket by putting too much love, heart, soul, time, and energy into one kid. That kid I was doing it for ended up stabbing me in the back.

At the age of fourteen, when I set out to produce amazing, talented, employable dancers, never once did I think about making a million dollars. I’m living in my parents’ house right now because I moved back home when my dad was sick. There are probably ten boxes of costumes in our garage that people never paid for from twenty to forty years ago. I feel like my business practices at the front desk are not as tough as my lessons inside the dance studio. I let people take advantage of me for years. All those kids whom I took away to competitions year after year. I bought them meals and I paid for them when they left their money in the car, and a few of these same kids don’t even send a Christmas card. I want these kids and their parents to remember where they came from, and that if it weren’t for me, they wouldn’t be where they are today.

Some moms criticize me and say I put too much pressure on the kids to win. I set the bar high because I know what these kids are capable of. I know when they’re giving it their all and I know when they’re being lazy. So yes, I turn the heat up. I tell them I will not accept losing to the Crabby Apples or any other team out there. Why? Because we’re better than they are. Dance teachers have to be tough and they have to push hard. If you don’t, you wind up with a team full of slugs. I believe
everyone
needs motivation.

Something I have heard at several business seminars is “Don’t worry about what the ballet teacher is getting paid, worry about what the woman at the front desk is getting paid.” I never had to worry, because my dad ran my business. He was the one at the front desk. He was the one who had to chase the kid all the way out to the parking lot to get the parents to come in and pay. Daddy always had my back. My dad had impeccable credit, and Mom and I never had to worry about money. Not until he was diagnosed with a brain tumor. We had no idea that he was going to the studio, day in and day out. However, the work was still piling up. Suddenly, I found myself in charge of everything business related. Finances were fine by me—I had no problem spending money.

When something doesn’t work, I get angry at myself. I take time to think it through and figure out why it didn’t work, and what I have learned from my mistake. Children have to go through the same thought process. Every kid needs to lose once in a while, even your best. They are always hearing that they are stars and that they are the most amazing kids. If they just keep winning, that victory becomes worthless because it’s expected. So you want to keep them a little bit vulnerable. You want to keep them on their toes. Dancers always have to strive for perfection, but they never reach it.

I think failure is good in one sense, whether it’s in business, art, or sports, because then when you do discover greatness, when you do have that glorious victory, then it’s a taste of euphoria.

Pro sports athletes make millions of dollars. They should not go out on the field and fail. They should not have to pick themselves up by their bootstraps. They should go out and the score should be 0–0, or the score should be 21–21 because both teams are that good. Someone who is making millions of dollars shouldn’t fumble the ball. I think that these players should get paid at the end of the season once we see how well they play.

The kid who never fails is never the big winner. You need to be knocked down a few notches every now and then so you can keep your eye on the big prize.

Dear Abby:

My daughter seems to be struggling with remembering her choreography. Do you have any tips to help her remember?

Some kids pick up choreography quickly and some kids don’t. I have found that attending dance conventions, workshops, and seminars helps children pick up choreography quicker. You’re learning from a different teacher every hour and you’re learning a new style from that teacher. So these events teach you to better comprehend choreography. Eight hundred kids can go into the convention class. Four hundred will learn the routine perfectly and be able to perform it at the end of the class. The other four hundred will have no clue what the combination was or what the steps were. We all make choices. Have you taught your child how to make the right choice?

Abby

FEAR SHOULD NEVER STAND IN YOUR WAY

Don’t be afraid that somebody is going to say something about you or that somebody is not going to like something you do. With the
Dance Moms
TV show, I had no idea what I was getting into. It was uncharted waters, but I didn’t let fear stand in my way. I didn’t know that much about television. The only thing I
did
know was that I had watched it my whole life. I was an only child and the TV was my very best friend. I loved television. I love scripted TV. I could probably recite every word from every
Brady Bunch
episode ever made. Years ago, when I was around thirteen or fourteen, I used to watch this television show called
Blossom
. At the beginning of the show, Blossom would be tap-dancing on top of a piano. I used to sit there watching this show and think to myself, “If she can have a television show, anybody can!”

I’m sure people look at me on their television sets and think the exact same thing!

When I took a shot at having my own TV show, it all happened so fast that the next thing I knew I was signing on the dotted line for fifteen hundred dollars an episode for four years with an option for eight. And while that may seem like a lot of money to some, you have to remember that I film six days a week, twelve or more hours a day. In addition, my studio has become a set. So the income I had always gained from teaching classes is no longer coming in.

When the show first started airing, I didn’t have much visibility yet among the general public outside of dance circles, but many of my dance colleagues and competitors across the country saw the show and were outraged. There were many more naysayers than fans. I have learned that people who have something negative to say are heard loud and clear—they write letters, they send e-mails, they make phone calls to voice their complaints. People who have good things to say, however, don’t take the time to write or call. After the very first episode aired, the members of the dance teaching industry lost their minds. They all know me, they know my standards of excellence, they know my teaching methods, they know how I run my school, and they are well aware of my credentials and what I have produced in the way of winning students and working professionals. However, this was their big chance to slam Abby Lee Miller.

And that they did.

Articles were written, blogs created, and hate mail was sent—all from my bitter and most competitive colleagues. In reality, they just couldn’t stand the fact that they didn’t think of
Dance Moms
first, or that they and their studios weren’t chosen by the producers. It didn’t help that when Lifetime aired the promos for the very first episodes they were showing me with a baseball bat in my hand (it was a foam rubber toy). Flash to one of the beautiful girls crying over and over. In the meantime, this child was in pain because her mother burned her with a curling iron, which had absolutely nothing to do with me. The editors can manipulate footage to create something out of nothing. The whole thing was preposterous.

On day one, Collins Avenue Entertainment, the production company that sold our show, along with Lifetime, the network that bought our show, started the uproar by depicting me as the tough but talented teacher. This negative light has continued to generate controversy throughout the four consecutive seasons. When it comes to reality TV, I guess I’m doing something right. Then I gradually morphed into being recognized in public, with people stalking me and talking to me. Once you stop shooting an episode, all the camera crews and the hype go away and you’re back to your regular grunt work. Yet now the show is airing on TV, so I would be at the grocery store or having dinner at a restaurant, and people are staring at me. I’m thinking I must know these people because their kid used to take dancing. Let’s face it, I’ve had thousands of kids pass through my studio.

Now that we’re in Season Four, I can’t go anywhere without being recognized. Usually it’s wonderful. No matter how hateful they make me look on TV, people always want to hug me. Children run toward me and jump into my arms at the grocery store. I guess they can sense my big heart and that I love children. I don’t always feel like hugging everyone, but I do. My only complaint is when I don’t have my hair and makeup done and I’m wearing a pair of sweats. People want a picture, so then I give them a picture and then they put it all over social media and I look like crap. But I am always kind and gracious because without fans we wouldn’t have a show.

At the beginning, I didn’t know anything about making a TV show, but I thought if I didn’t go for this, somebody else would. Once again, everyone’s replaceable. So I’m going to make this reality TV show happen. I figured at least I would learn something about making television. I view fear as a handicap and think your own phobias hold you back. I’ve never been afraid of what other people are going to say, what other people are going to think, or what other people are going to do in response to my actions.

Even if you’re afraid, you have to do what you feel is best for yourself. If you’re afraid of everything, then you’re going to curl up in a ball and die. It’s a big, scary, mean place out there in the world. Everyone has anxiety and insecurity. Encourage your children not to cower but to face their fears head on. You can’t be afraid to walk down the street to get to that concert, to get to class on time, or to visit that store. You can’t be afraid to get behind the wheel of a rental car in L.A. and drive up the Pacific Coast Highway. I was an adventurous seventeen years of age before they changed the laws to where now you have to be twenty-five to rent a car. I was in Anaheim, California, with my mom at a dance convention. I rented a car and drove into L.A. and saw it all. I remember this convention well because John Travolta showed up at the grand national banquet with Marilu Henner on his arm. (Little known fact: her mother owned and operated a successful dance studio.) He received an award for contributing to the art of dance. He came to accept it himself, gave a speech, and appeared very grateful. Oh, my God, he was my matinee idol. I saw
Grease
seventeen times the weekend it opened. Not only was he the heartthrob we all loved but he inspired the whole world to dance. When we saw him on-screen doing the Hustle in
Saturday Night Fever
, every middle-class couple in America signed up for disco lessons at their local dance studio. Adult jazz classes were formed for the sudden increase in students because of to his performance as a Broadway dancer in
Staying Alive
. Next came a new dance craze. When he starred in
Urban Cowboy
, every dance studio in the nation began offering country-western line dancing.