Emily Poole

Dancing to a New Beat

Tights on, hair in a bun, leotard slipped over, and ballet shoes ready; It was eighth grade

and I was getting ready to try out for the high school song team. Flashing back to from when I

was five till the day I had tried out, I had grown up in a dance studio and it was all I had known;

go to school, change in the car, and then head to the studio for five plus hours of practice. I had

made countless friends and memories doing what I loved, and all I had wanted was to one day be

on pointe and become a professional ballerina in New York. Recently gaining appreciation, the

high school song team was just now beginning to become competitive given they had just won

their first national title in five years. It was now my time to part with my sisters in the dance

studio and begin to perform at the beat of a new drum.

My best friend Lauren and I were heading over to the first day of tryouts at the high

school. With countless doubts in my head I knew it was the change I needed to make. I

remember Lauren and I being two of the youngest girls trying out and sitting in the corner

stretching on our own waiting to prove our value we could add to the team. My stomach was

tossing and turning waiting for four o’clock to hit. Not a count later, we began to start across the

floor, and I began to perform skills I did not even know I could do. I could feel the competition

in the air and knew that I had to step up to the plate if I wanted to pursue a spot on the team.

Slightly knowing I was still an underdog; I knew I had potential and could prove both coaches of

my worth.

The first three days of tryouts we learned all the material we were going to audition with

in front of the judges. The judges were professional and had judged at competitions all across the

United States and could draft the perfect winning team. Today was the day. I was ready and had
prepared countless hours to perform in small groups of three. We were going to do across the

floor, the routine, and three cheers. Number 27 was my identity to judges and coaches, but I

knew there was more to me than just my talent. Anxiously waiting, it was not my time to shine

on the gym court. I had completed my routines and across the floor to a T and was confident in

my overall performance. Hours were passing after my audition and finally 7:00 pm hit, it was

time for me to check the list. Nervous as ever, I logged on to the website to find my number, 27,

on the list for the 2015-2016 Saint Joseph High School Song Team. Excited as ever, I was ready

to begin my journey on the team.

Summer practices began from 6am-8am every day at the high school. It was everything I

thought I wanted; the blood, sweat and tears of dance to become a national champion. The tough

practices began to ruin the love I once had for dance. Instead of practicing with the team, I was

always running miles outside for the one count I had messed up on during the routine. My

coaches would scrutinize my every move and then send me out to the track for the rest of

practice. I could not take the pain and suffering any longer and decided to give up on my dream.

Everything I had pictured for myself in high school was no longer and my world began to crash.

Although this experience did not end how I expected, I realized you never know how the second

eight count of your life is going to be danced. Bigger and better opportunities come to those who

wait, and you should never take a chance to try something new for granted.