The "New Kid"

  At nine years old I was given a label that was entirely unfamiliar to me: the new kid. Having attended the same school since daycare and living in the same neighborhood since birth, I was accustomed to being a perfect piece in the puzzle of my communities. But for the first time, I was an anomaly among an already perfected design. Nevertheless, my time at the dance studio became the highlight of my days. 

Starting an activity at nine years old may not seem too unusual for most people, but many dancers begin their careers at a very young age. While my peers were stretching and training at the ages of two and three, I was in my living room putting on poorly choreographed shows for my mom. When I finally took my first real dance lesson, I towered above the younger girls in the beginners ballet class. After joining the competitive dance company, I struggled to assimilate with the tight knit community. But while I was unused to some aspects of the social structure of the studio, I was used to competition. In class I watched the precise turns of the others, not with envy, but with determination (cliché, I know). Soon, I became known for my constant state of sitting in a straddle stretch, and my persistence slowly wore through the barriers of my peers. Instead of pining for friendships, I had focused on my dancing and unknowingly burrowed my way into the lives of my now friends. My dancing may not have matched the level of my team just yet, but I was no longer the new kid. 

Now, while I sometimes mourn the potential of my own dancing if I had started earlier, I believe that beginning to dance late was a blessing. Though I lack the technical advantage of my friends, I have my own edge: low standards. This may seem like a bad characteristic to have, but when performing under pressure it serves me well. Waiting backstage to compete my solo, I often witnessed my teammates coming offstage sobbing, having made little mistakes. But in all of my dance career, I have never cried myself offstage or berated myself for making mistakes. Whenever I am standing in the warmth of the stage lights I am reminded of my first competition, when I had no expectations of myself from my new peers. 

Now that I am a seasoned veteran of my team, I look back on my time as the new kid with gratitude. The experience of developing my own confidence to get to know my teammates and eventually reaching their level, was both humbling and bolstering. And though there were rough days, scrolling through birthday party posts which I was left out from, I truly do believe what everyone says: it built character.