Life After Dance

By Marcia Aller

A retired teacher finds new ways to keep in top form.

When you take your first ballet class at age 3, begin teaching as a teen, and own a school for 36 years, dance is your lifeblood. You talk about it every day; your friends are dancers or fellow teachers; your eating habits reflect a body consciousness. Everything in your life revolves around dance— even your family learns to appreciate it. So when I decided it was time to hang up my dance shoes and take down my shingle, I discovered that I faced major challenges.

The first—and perhaps the easiest for me to overcome—was finding new ways to keep active. Physical activity through dance had been the norm for me, so finding an exercise program was a priority. I have always done a daily barre, but now I could add long walks to my agenda. Having the time to enjoy nature is wonderful. Reading has always been my hobby, so being able to escape with Jane Austen, James Patterson, and Margaret Atwood for long blocks of time is terrific.

I’ve been told that I have a Type A personality. I’m always on the go, organizing things and keeping busy. Having two little grandchildren has helped me release some of that energy, since we always have projects to do and adventures to go on. Still, after so many years of doing for others and helping them reach their goals, I felt that something was missing. That something was the daily contact with kids and their sense of accomplishment after a job well done.

We live a short distance from an elementary school, and sometimes I can hear the kids playing during recess. One day a light bulb went off in my head—I wanted to be a part of that! When I called the school to learn how I could volunteer, I was thrilled to find that they were about to start a motor-skills program and could use someone with my background. It is a perfect fit. I work with the students on physical activities that enhance academic success. Body control, eye tracking, convergence and accommodation, laterality, static balance, and coordination (all skills in a dance educator’s repertoire) have helped the children greatly with reading skills—and with their self-esteem.

One of my favorite kids (I’ll call him K.C.) was the troublemaker of the first grade. A chatterbox and a jitterbug, he wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t try—just the kind of kid I love! Since I work with the students one on one, I changed the program to find something that K.C. could excel at and feel good about. It has made all the difference in the world for this little guy. Now he always wants to be first, and he really tries. What a gift for me! So Tuesdays and Thursdays I work as a motor mom, even though I am really a motor grandma. Creativity, physicality, and experiencing the joys of children all in one package—it’s ideal.

Since I love to read, I also thought about how I could reach out to others that way. I found a program called Recording for the Blind and Dyslexic, a nonprofit organization whose mission is to create opportunities for all people to have equal access to the printed word. Its roughly 6,000 volunteers throughout the United States read aloud and record more than a quarter of a million textbooks annually. After attending several three-hour training sessions, I had found a new venture: recording textbooks and technical journals used primarily by college students. It is much more complicated than you might imagine. To record one book you need two volunteers; two books; two computers; one digital recording machine to transfer the text to CD, tape, or a digital system; one sound studio; two sets of earphones; and the ability to transfer what you see on the page to the recording. That’s easy enough with text, but have you looked at college textbooks lately? They are filled with graphs, charts, and URLs. Except for periods and commas, you must name all punctuation. Sure, question marks, exclamation points, colons, and semicolons are easy. But how about ~, >, . . . , and ^? English lit is easy; computer programs are not. And a medical book turns everyone into a hypochondriac. It’s difficult and educational and I love it.

This is just one dance teacher’s odyssey, but it proves that there is life after teaching dance. You can bring your special talents to a new canvas and paint a different kind of picture. You can continue to grow and find new ways to give back to the community— all you have to do is find your niche. I have always said that my goal in life is to have a broad mind and narrow hips. In this new stage of life, I’ll keep working toward that end.