_A Dance Teacher's Journey
By Michelle
The other day I was in a local sporting goods store with my daughter. As is generally the case with a six-
year-old, we can't make it out of the store without a trip to the bathroom. While I waited for her, I perused
the bulletin board finding backpacks for sale, advertisements for whitewater rafting, and an announcement
of a new belly dance class. My interest piqued, I read on. There are several dance studios in Albuquerque
other than my own offering belly dance classes, but this was not at any of those. Curious to see who was
now throwing their hat (or should I say hip scarf) into the ring, I browsed through the ad to find the name of
one of my on again/off again students. She was a solid intermediate-level dancer and a very sweet girl, but,
I wondered, a teacher?
There are no certifications in the world of belly dance (EDIT: now there are MANY certifications, but
really, do they tell you anything???) to tell a prospective student if the teacher they are studying with is
herself a good dancer. There is no guarantee if she is a knowledgeable instructor with adequate expertise of
body mechanics and an ability to break down information in many different ways for different students.
What if this self-proclaimed teacher turned off some potential fabulous dancer because she couldn't break
down the moves correctly? With great consternation, I left the store, but couldn't stop thinking of this issue.
When I began to teach, I know I was a barely adequate instructor. My first teacher, in fact threw me into a
teaching position as a substitute for her on occasion. Later I filled in for a teacher who was on sabbatical.
Finally, I took over my own class which developed into my own students and finally, my own studio. But
returning to my first year as instructor, I realize that I probably did not inspire my students as a good
teacher can. I had solid technique, but I was so afraid of "boring" my students with not enough moves that I
made pages of notes and tried to cram way to much into my hour long classes. I knew how to perform the
moves, but did I know how to describe them and demonstrate them so that every student could understand
what I was asking her to perform? Probably not. So really, who was I to judge this “upstart” instructor?
At this stage in my teaching, I feel one of my strengths is my ability to describe a move in many different
ways. Some students learn best if you tell them how the move feels. Others want to know what muscles
you're using and the progression of the move. Still others need me to watch them and analyze what they are
doing or not doing to master the move. I certainly did not have this ability when I was a new teacher-only
teaching can teach you to teach!
My one consolation when I look back at my early months and years of teaching is that I always had the
ability to help my students discover their personal beauty. I consider my greatest failure as a teacher was
the one woman who came to me after a month of classes and insisted she was too clumsy and ungainly to
continue dancing. Somehow I could not convince her to grant herself patience and acceptance while she
bloomed and I will always regret that. It is a consolation, however, that I have seen women of every size
and shape and age and ability grow and bloom in my classes. To see a woman come to the realization that
she is beautiful is an awe-inspiring sight!
It has been so interesting and gratifying to watch my fellow troupe members grow into their roles as
instructors. There were awkward classes while they developed their teaching techniques and bewildered
their students, but each one has found her niche and her students have found another good teacher.
Teaching any subject is never easy, but it is always gratifying!
By Michelle
The other day I was in a local sporting goods store with my daughter. As is generally the case with a six-
year-old, we can't make it out of the store without a trip to the bathroom. While I waited for her, I perused
the bulletin board finding backpacks for sale, advertisements for whitewater rafting, and an announcement
of a new belly dance class. My interest piqued, I read on. There are several dance studios in Albuquerque
other than my own offering belly dance classes, but this was not at any of those. Curious to see who was
now throwing their hat (or should I say hip scarf) into the ring, I browsed through the ad to find the name of
one of my on again/off again students. She was a solid intermediate-level dancer and a very sweet girl, but,
I wondered, a teacher?
There are no certifications in the world of belly dance (EDIT: now there are MANY certifications, but
really, do they tell you anything???) to tell a prospective student if the teacher they are studying with is
herself a good dancer. There is no guarantee if she is a knowledgeable instructor with adequate expertise of
body mechanics and an ability to break down information in many different ways for different students.
What if this self-proclaimed teacher turned off some potential fabulous dancer because she couldn't break
down the moves correctly? With great consternation, I left the store, but couldn't stop thinking of this issue.
When I began to teach, I know I was a barely adequate instructor. My first teacher, in fact threw me into a
teaching position as a substitute for her on occasion. Later I filled in for a teacher who was on sabbatical.
Finally, I took over my own class which developed into my own students and finally, my own studio. But
returning to my first year as instructor, I realize that I probably did not inspire my students as a good
teacher can. I had solid technique, but I was so afraid of "boring" my students with not enough moves that I
made pages of notes and tried to cram way to much into my hour long classes. I knew how to perform the
moves, but did I know how to describe them and demonstrate them so that every student could understand
what I was asking her to perform? Probably not. So really, who was I to judge this “upstart” instructor?
At this stage in my teaching, I feel one of my strengths is my ability to describe a move in many different
ways. Some students learn best if you tell them how the move feels. Others want to know what muscles
you're using and the progression of the move. Still others need me to watch them and analyze what they are
doing or not doing to master the move. I certainly did not have this ability when I was a new teacher-only
teaching can teach you to teach!
My one consolation when I look back at my early months and years of teaching is that I always had the
ability to help my students discover their personal beauty. I consider my greatest failure as a teacher was
the one woman who came to me after a month of classes and insisted she was too clumsy and ungainly to
continue dancing. Somehow I could not convince her to grant herself patience and acceptance while she
bloomed and I will always regret that. It is a consolation, however, that I have seen women of every size
and shape and age and ability grow and bloom in my classes. To see a woman come to the realization that
she is beautiful is an awe-inspiring sight!
It has been so interesting and gratifying to watch my fellow troupe members grow into their roles as
instructors. There were awkward classes while they developed their teaching techniques and bewildered
their students, but each one has found her niche and her students have found another good teacher.
Teaching any subject is never easy, but it is always gratifying!