Everything I Learned About Life, I Learned in Dance Class (7 page)

I think both glory and embarrassment help to shape a child’s personality. The kid who isn’t doing so well needs to buckle down and concentrate more, and the kid who’s doing well deserves the praise for having the highest score in the class. In my dance class, every kid who walks into my room to take a class is competing against everyone else in there every minute. I think the mirror can be both your best friend and your toughest competitor. When you look in the mirror and see someone leaping across the floor and she’s higher than you by a foot, then you need to compete against that person by jumping higher than she does the next time you go across the floor. I am always screaming at the girls to look into the mirror because I know they will compete against one another if they have to work hard to keep up with and be better than the others. The competition that happens when they are looking in the mirror and comparing themselves with others makes them better dancers.

A lot of dance teachers, especially young ones, ask me, “What should I do? I just opened a dance studio and right now we’re noncompetitive, but some of the parents who have seen your show have been asking me if I would consider competitions for my students.” I always tell them that competition can make your dancers tremendous and really motivate them to be better
or
it can ruin your business. If the kids at your studio see kids from another studio down the street performing better at competitions, then those kids are going to walk.

And it depends on what you’re in it for. I was never in it to make a million dollars. I was in it to produce employable kids. I always wanted to be able to say that I produced the most employable dancers. I made that possible. Most of my dancers didn’t leave my studio and go to NYU or Carnegie Mellon for four years; they went from my studio to Fifty-First Street between Eighth and Ninth Avenues in New York City, got an apartment, went to an audition, and got the job. I know that I did that for them. Had their parents chosen another studio in town, they’d still be here in Pittsburgh doing something else. Maybe flipping burgers at McDonald’s or working at the mall.

Dear Abby:

I think my six-year-old son is an amazing dancer. Should he be competing or performing?

The only way to know if you’ve given birth to the next Baryshnikov is to take him to a dance class. You’re his mom, so you can’t be objective. He sneezes and you applaud. That’s why you should leave it to the professionals. I can tell when a child is naturally talented by his physical attributes. Do his hip sockets turn out? Do his legs hyperextend? Do his feet arch the way they are supposed to in classical dance? All these things along with the desire, the dedication, and the determination go into making a champion in the dance world.

Abby

BEHIND THE SCENES

A Day in the Life

For
Dance Moms
, I usually head to the studio at about noon. I get into hair and makeup and talk briefly about the ideas and music. I start teaching at about 3:00
P
.
M
., and we go all the way until the last class ends at 10:00
P
.
M
. that night. My business day doesn’t start or end at the dance studio. I’m always working on costumes, placing orders, or searching for music at home, either late at night or early in the morning. The day-to-day activity of running a business takes up most of my morning. Then I eat lunch and head to the studio. I had to cut back on my teaching because of the demands of the show, but more important, I had to cut back to spend more time with my mother, whose health started to fail before she passed away in February. At the end of the classes, we usually have “Abby After Class,” which is a time to dish at my front desk with the other dance teachers, to reflect on the day, and for me to hear what’s going on with the other classes, students, and mothers. I’m a night owl. Once I head home at 10:30 or 11:00
P
.
M
., I’m up for three or four more hours doing paperwork and all the other business that wasn’t taken care of before I went to the studio.

I’m lucky to have an amazing group of instructors. Every one of my instructors is on the same page. They follow a curriculum that was created by my mother more than fifty years ago for all the preschool classes. We have a great team at my studio, Reign Dance Productions, and the Abby Lee Dance Company. In addition to dance, we offer voice lessons and acting classes.

When we’re on the road for a competition, we’ve got an entirely different routine. Here’s a typical schedule for the Abby Lee Dance Company during a Saturday competition, though the times can change quite a bit depending on the specific event:

5:30
A
.
M
.: Wake up.

6:00–8:00
A
.
M
.: Hair and makeup.

8:00–9:00
A
.
M
.: Breakfast; then on the bus to the competition.

9:00
A
.
M
.: Competition starts.

6:00
P
.
M
.: Awards ceremony.

And win or lose, there’s always drama with the moms—
guaranteed
.

It would probably surprise most
Dance Moms
fans to find out that we don’t get to see the episodes before they are shown on the air. I see them when everyone else does.

SIBLING RIVALRY IS A PLUS

Often you will find two or more siblings in the same dance studio, even on the same competitive team. Sometimes it’s just because it’s more convenient for Mom—less chauffeuring to do. Stop, drop, and roll. But other times it’s because they genuinely care for one another and they want to help their siblings become better dancers.

When you have a sibling, you have built-in competition. There is also the case where the younger sister isn’t starting out on the same playing field as the older child, and she has a leg up on her peers. When the younger sister of one of my students is dragged to the dance studio daily, and grows up in that environment—drinking from the water fountain, visiting the ladies’ room, and getting candy from the snack machine—she becomes very familiar with the surroundings. So by the time she’s two and a half or three years old and it’s time to go into the classroom, she isn’t hanging on her mother’s leg screaming her lungs out, because she already knows that you’re supposed to go into that room, listen to the teacher, and have fun.

Usually Little Sis is way ahead of the game. She has absorbed proper terminology just by hearing the words
plié
and
relevé
, and if she’s on the ball, she has already learned how to do those ballet basics from Big Sis. When children are very close together in age, the older sibling ends up speaking for the new baby, reaching to get her what she wants, and even physically making her do the ever-important first arabesque. Younger siblings know all the positions before they ever get into the classroom. This usually means the younger sibling will turn out better. If not better, certainly smarter. That’s definitely what’s happened with Mackenzie.

Siblings are great because you have someone to practice with. You have someone to play your music while you’re rehearsing, and then you play her music while she runs through her number. For all those exercises that require a partner, you have someone to practice with. If you have a conflict, like a school activity you have to go to, then your sibling can come in and learn your part and teach it to you when you get home that night, so the next day when you go to class you already know it. You always have a built-in duet partner and don’t have to rely on anyone else.

I have two families on my show with siblings, Brooke and Paige and Maddie and Mackenzie. I frequently tell Mackenzie, in an effort to motivate her to do better, that when Maddie was her age, she was already doing this or that. Guess what?
It works!

Jealousy is almost always a big part of sibling relationships. Especially when kids are young, it’s hard not to be jealous. Whether they are the oldest, youngest, or middle child, everyone is vying for Mommy’s attention. This can be a good thing because it drives them—it makes them push themselves harder and faster to come in first. There is a natural competition that already exists at home, so it’s easy to bring it to the dance floor. I’ve seen this with Maddie and Mackenzie. While the girls are supportive of each other, they also want me and their mom, Melissa, to be proud of them. If one wins and the other doesn’t, it’s a tough pill to swallow.

I do believe, however, that the second child has an advantage. The first one knows how to say her ABCs. Little Sis might not know all her colors yet, but she can order off the yellow-and-red McDonald’s drive-thru menu! Why? Because she’s savvy—and she’s observant of what’s going on around her. I have come to the conclusion that in dance, the younger sibling begins at a younger age and therefore gets into the swing of things much quicker. In the history of the Abby Lee Dance Company, the younger sibling has often surpassed the competition records and the professional experience of his or her older role model.

Except of course in the case of Brooke and Paige. Brooke was the Maddie of her time. She was winning everything, everywhere. She was cute and little and talented! Her mom, Kelly, carried her on her hip like a baby until she was ten years old. Where was Paige? I don’t know, maybe in the car? Those kids are only three years apart with a brother in the middle. Shouldn’t she have been one of the siblings learning by osmosis? My theory is that Paige was so pretty, maybe her parents didn’t think talent would ever really matter. Or maybe Kelly pushed so hard and sacrificed so much for Brooke that when the next kids came along, she was exhausted. Whatever the reason, some of the kids play second fiddle to the firstborn.

ABBY’S ULTIMATE ADVICE

Three Key Points to Remember

1. Life isn’t fair. Some people are naturally attractive, smart, and talented. I know that sucks for all the rest of us, but it’s a hard, cold fact—pretty counts!

2. Competition is a good thing. It may stress you out, but it also makes you work hard, stay focused, and push yourself further.

3. No one
deserves
to win. It isn’t your God-given right. Entitled you are not. You have to eat, sleep, breathe your dream—achieving one goal after another to reign supreme. Nothing your mom says is going to change that.

SECOND POSITION
À LA QUATRIÈME DEVANT

Everyone’s Replaceable

Winning isn’t everything—it’s the only thing!

—Henry Russell Sanders

I DON’T CARE HOW GOOD
your kid is (or how good you
think
she is). For every one of her, there are ten more girls nipping at her heels, waiting to take her place. That means she constantly has to step it up to stay where she is. We teach new things in every class. Dance is a constantly evolving art. I expect my kids to be on their toes!

This goes for life as well. If we’ve learned anything from the economic mess the United States recently fell into, it’s that this is the rule. Companies can be downsized; people are disposable if some person or machine can do it better and easier and cheaper. Teaching your children this lesson early on will help them handle life’s little—and not-so-little—ups and downs with grace and dignity.

Do your job. Do it the best you can. Do it right, because somebody, sometimes your best friend, is waiting for you to screw up so she can take your place. I am replaceable. I’m not the best dance teacher in the world. I’m not the only dance teacher in the world. I just feel like there’s always somebody who’s one step ahead of me. I go to bed at night with my head spinning, full of ideas and stuff to do to help my students become more successful. (But when some mom from Pittsburgh who knows nothing—who’s never been to a Broadway show, who’s never traveled to L.A. or stayed at the Beverly Hills Hotel or even been inside the Polo Lounge—questions my judgment? That’s like challenging my life’s vocation, lady! When I was a kid, my mom or dad dropped me off at my clarinet lesson, my drama classes, or the roller rink. What happened to paying the professional to do her job? What happened to entrusting the expert with your child? What happened to respect?)

During one of the episodes on the show, one of the girls—Payton—got hurt in the wings literally three minutes before going onstage. The paramedics had to come, put her on a gurney, and wheel her away. We pulled the kids away from the entire situation, and they reblocked the spacing and then went out and danced. They won their division, and then they won the high score of the entire day at the competition. I told my kids, “See, Payton was replaced by nobody—do you realize how easily Payton was replaced?” Some kid piped up and whined no one replaced her and I said, “That’s right, we didn’t need anybody to replace her—get it?” The lightbulb went on in their pretty little heads. They understood in that one defining moment that they were all replaceable. I truly believe that if you aren’t on your toes every minute of every day, then you will be replaced. And even then, you may be anyway.