I had to kick a kid out of one of my dance classes yeserday. I use the term “kick out” lightly, not the way we used to use it as chillins where one would “kick out _____ from a secret club.” I mean “kick out” as in telling the Mom not to bring the child back. This poor girl was a prodigy of the whole Olympics Freak Out…you know, my kid is the next Paul Hamm? Truthfully, the child seems to enjoy the gym aspect waaay more than she enjoys ballet. And I gently explained this to the Mom. It’s always hard having a “dialouge” with a parent about why their kid, (yes, THEIR precious child), is just not cut out to take dance classes. USUALLY it’s because they’re freakin three-years-old, I mean who could focus for 45 minutes at three? Not very many of us, I know I wouldn’t be ready at three. And short attention span is one thing, not listening to me is an entirely different thing. It drives me crazy when I have to rationalize, reason, discipline, and negotiate with a three-year-old during class. So I don’t do it…not anymore. If a kid spends a whole bunch of time disobeying me and turning in repeated circles instead of standing qiuetly in first position I give em’ one more chance. I do everything possible to make it work, including asking the parents if they want to watch the next class and provide support for their kid. (Sometimes this works, other times the parents are distracting). Well, last night, the “one more chance” failed and there I am dialouging with a parent again about why their kid is just not ready for ballet at the moment and maybe we should wait six months until she’s a little older. It broke her heart, I could tell, and than she asked, “Will I get my money back?” Uh…sure, what do I know? Hey, sorry your kid isn’t the next Barashnakov.
Despite making the right choice I always feel bad…and than I feel irritated, like, “Get over it, Mom, are you really that out of touch that you can’t see what an annoying mess your kid was in class just now? For Christ sake, grow up.” I’m not a parent, however, and I’m sure that works for and against me being a dance teacher. I don’t know what it’s like to think it’s a great idea to put your three-year-old in a dance class and than be shocked when it doesn’t work out. I’ve noticed first born children are incredibly prone to parental dissapointment, trial and error. Usually when the second or third kid rolls into my class, the parents are super laid back about everything: “Oh, my kid sucks? No problem, we’ll just put her in T-ball instead…it worked for our oldest child.” I was the oldest child, and instead of over-enrolling me in everything, my parents actually over-sheltered me. I wanted to be a ballet dancer at three, but my mom made me wait until I was seven…(the same policy was made with Barbie dolls). So, I suppose it work both ways.