Whenever I’m lucky enough to attend a ballet, I find myself remembering how hard I found dancing. As a little girl growing up in New York in the 1980s, I took classes at the Joffrey Ballet at their upstairs studio on Sixth Avenue and Tenth Street. The windows open, trucks barreling up the avenue below, I learned the five positions and did barre exercises in my powder blue leotard until it got difficult. It got difficult fast... Read the rest here.
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