So you want to dance: Part 23 of series Part 25 of series Postings discussion This link allows you to see others thoughts on this piece and contribute to the debate yourself if you want. We look to guarantee this link for a number of years, though after 3-6 months the page may be closed to further additions. Ballet.co's Doing Dance forum reviews by Anjuli Bai

Not at all. It is entirely true. There’s dance for people in wheelchairs – dance for people with all sorts of challenges and disabilities.

Well, how can a person dance if they can’t hear the music?

The music happens “within.” Everyone has a natural rhythm – how we move, how our heart beats, our breathing. Even very young children clap their hands rhythmically.

I guess the teacher has to know sign language.

It probably helps. But it’s not necessary. I don’t know sign language but I was able to teach a deaf student. She was one of the most enjoyable students I ever had the pleasure of knowing.

So, how did you communicate?

She was in her early twenties, was completely deaf since birth and she was very good at lip reading. She spoke well enough for me to understand her. Actually she understood me better than I understood her.

But I had to remember to look at her when I spoke. As you know sometimes in ballet class dancers and teachers talk to one another while looking in the mirror. When I spoke to Emily (that was her name) I had to look at her directly.

How did she know what the music sounded like – the tempo or the counts?

If the music was loud she could feel it through her feet. I have sensitive feet – but she was used to using other parts of her body as her “ears” so she could feel things I couldn’t. If the music was soft I would clap my hands with her as I counted the beats. That, plus demonstrating the steps was enough for her to actually be able to do it. It’s amazing how well that worked.

There were a couple of times her deafness allowed her to work without interruption while I could be distracted by noise - like if there was noise in the hall outside the classroom, Emily would keep on working, while I had to go close the door.

If she couldn’t hear the music, why didn’t you just clap out a rhythm and have no music?

Strangely enough I needed the music. Emily needed only the tempo and beats, but I found that I really couldn’t get into it without music. Sure I can move through the steps by counting without music, but for real expression, nuance, and interest, I needed music.

I explained this to Emily and she laughed and nodded that she understood. There were a couple of occasions when I felt sad that I couldn’t share music I loved with her.

What do you mean?

If I was driving and heard something beautiful on the radio, I would automatically think: “Oh that music will be great for my pointe students!” And I would get the music. But, when I thought: “Oh that music will be great for Emily” – it would make me a bit sad that she wouldn’t be able to hear it. However, she was a very happy person – the problem was me!

There was one time that I really got to know – sorta – what it was like to be her.

You lost your hearing?

No – the classroom we usually used was being painted and so we moved – it was just me and her – a private lesson – to another room that was upstairs and way in the back of the building. A room that wasn’t used much at all. I had just come through a terrible head cold and had completely lost my voice. This didn’t bother Emily because she just needed to read my lips.

Well, this room was so far in the back and had no windows, so there was no noise at all from anywhere else. I plugged in my tape player but the electrical outlet didn’t work. Therefore, we (me, really) had no music. Since there was no outside noise, no music and I couldn’t talk at all – everything was completely silent. It occurred to me that I was experiencing the world as Emily had always experienced it. I found it VERY disconcerting. My brain wasn’t used to such complete silence. Emily, of course, was doing fine – I was a mess!

Did she become a dancer?

No, though I have heard of that happening – one joined a professional company. Emily studied for about a year and then got a scholarship and went off to college. I just loved teaching her and really missed her when she left.

Dance is wonderful for all sorts of people – all ages – with all kinds of assets and challenges. I remember teaching in a psychiatric hospital.

You did – was it tough?

No – it, too, was very enjoyable. It gave the people something to do, something to think about and something to enjoy. Dancing is good therapy.

Do you think a blind person could dance?

I don’t see why not. I heard of one who recently climbed Mt. Everest. Think about that the next time your teacher asks you to try something and you start to say to yourself: “I don’t think I can do that!”

And, Prima Ballerina Assoluta Alicia Alonso is blind. One of the finest dancers and teachers of the 20th century.

No way!

Way.

Really?

Really.