By: Alondra Vahan

I hop out of the back of my dads 4 door explorer in a pastel pink leotard with anticipation shaking in my movement. 

"WATCH YOUR STEP" 

...my mother screams as she notices I strategically dodge a puddle of mud in my newly purchased ballet flats. 

The class of 9, 4 foot, 4 year olds point their toes in tendu as their teacher leads them into a circle of chaines.

Thread by stitch my leotard bends to the movement of the sound in the air. 

The piano accompanies the happiness of aspiring ballerinas who trample over their own laces.

They stare in the classroom mirrors and picture themselves in front of an audience other than their fellow dancers.

The stick of the razon on the rims of my pointes, and the glitter on the wooden polished floors...

...the effortless hard work, and the infinite other oxymorons ballet brings you.

a class of discipline, and a class of understanding...

it is ballet that brings that specific joy

that happiness and content-ness.