I'm not Cassie

Just got home from the second showing of "mEmotion." It was stressful, putting this show together, having people drop out, trying to do five million other things and realizing that I had absolutely no control over what was about to happen to me. I was tense all day about it, and people just kept telling me to relax, because in the end, it was going to be whatever it was going to be.


And it was. I did the duet with Jess, and by the time we had an audience, it was only our second time attempting the piece. And I thought it felt awesome. Although, she went back to four years ago, when we first met. I wrote her an email, all but begging to dance, because I wanted to and I needed to. She brought it up, and I casually responded with not being that dancer anymore, but then relinquished by adding that I still kind of am. I would still write that email. I would audition a hundred times, whatever it took for the chance to dance. 


I came off-stage from that uneasy, slightly embarrassed. The audience was small, but important. Again, everyone I look up to was there. Everyone I want to please. And those who taught me everything I ever knew were there and were watching me move as me for the first time in five years. Nerve-racking. And there Jess went and told a secret. I don't even think it is a secret, but it felt like one. I don't think a lot of them know about how I started at Temple.


So it was time to go on for my duet with Megan, and I just kept thinking about not forcing the speaking. Before I could continue to consider it, I heard my own voice in the space, talking about who I was, and would that be enough? There was this little voice yelling, "What are you saying? Shut up! It doesn't have to be this way." But I just continued with it. And then stopped. I didn't have anything to say. I just wanted to know if who I am is enough for all those people, or if there's the chance that it will ever be.


And then Megan entered, pointed out that I wasn't talking much. I know. I don't know what to say. I feel weird. Nervous. Unsure. Scared. I really don't want to wear this shirt anymore. Thank you for taking it away from me. Which is weird. I'm not sure how I got to the place where I didn't want that shirt. This morning it served as both a comfort and a challenge to pack that into my bag, but by that point in the dance, it felt intrusive. Like a third, unwelcome presence in the space. As soon as it was off, I felt free, easy. I remember jumping. I really don't jump that much unless prompted to by a choreographer. It isn't my step of choice.


I just felt like observing tonight. I wanted to watch my partners and to help them. I wanted to be quiet and let them be, but I felt as if both of them were nudging me into being everything I could. Into owning up to what I had done and what I was doing. It was really interesting.


My "old" dance teachers loved it, but they kept talking about how beautiful and mature Jess was. When do I get to be mature? What do I have to do to get there? I'm positive it isn't an age thing. Merían said we have to talk. I'm positive I'm in trouble. I didn't let go enough. It was too "good." Damn. Joellen and Richard loved it. Jae Hoon told me I was on the right path and to keep going. Kun-Yang told me, "As long as you had fun." Ouch. Ken loved hearing me talk about my process, which meant so much. And overall, I heard that I'd grown. That this was different for me. 


And I did it. I got mixed responses. That's ultimately what I wanted. I made people think.


Then dinner with Miss Pat and Miss Jamyn. It was so great. They had so many amazing questions about what I'd done with the piece, how I'd done it, why I'd done it...I was so happy that they were so engaged and not just saying, "So what were you doing exactly?" I was scared to death of them seeing this one just because I don't trust myself with it yet. I don't know if I ever will. But then we talked about everything, from diets, to boys, to Nutcrackers and Indonesia. It was beautiful. I wish I hadn't been sniffling the whole time.


And the words I've always wondered if I would hear in the end...


I am very proud of you.


My heart melted. Thank you. 


There are people who want to dance, there are people who love to dance and there are a very few people who've gotta dance. You have the gotta dance.


I have nothing to say to that. But there's this feeling, I want to cry, and I just want to run in circles. She sees it. And I'm not her kind of dancer anymore. I'm something else. And she still sees it.