Dance for Him

By Elizabeth Foss
Herald Columnist
(From the issue of 6/23/05)

As I was driving to ballet the other day, I asked my daughter what her favorite dance had been at the previous week’s recital. It had been a lovely, glorious performance, a true celebration of goodness and beauty. Without hesitation, she replied, "The worship dance was mine, but Daddy’s favorite was ‘Via Dolorosa.’" Just as she related this, we passed a billboard that read: Some people don’t raise their children, they finance them.

We are a typical suburban family, if larger than most. Our children play soccer and they dance; we carpool. The truth is, we pay money for other people to spend time with our children and to teach them something we cannot. But we raise our children, we don’t finance them. And so we expect from those people who are spending time with our kids that they will help us raise them. This is an enormous expectation and it is not without responsibility.

When we look for a soccer coach or a dance teacher, we look first to how that individual will affect the character of our child. And we have left situations where the effect would be contrary to what we want for them, sometimes at great personal cost.

I was warned by experienced dancers that the world of dance, for all its outward beauty, can be a dark one. I knew, as I looked for a dance academy, that dance, like theater, could be a place to glorify God or a place to learn dark lessons of vanity and narcissism. I was watching carefully to ensure modesty in dress and in movement. I looked for evidence that there would be no subtle or not so subtle jabs at body image. My goal was to find a place where the mission was to train technically excellent dancers who praised Jesus in the dance. Above all, I wasn’t looking to finance my daughter, I was looking for a partner in raising her. I spent considerable time praying about it.

A former dancer whom I admire once wrote, "We dance in celebration and affirmation of Beauty. We dance because, in the words of Pope John Paul II, ‘every genuine art form in its own way is a path to the inmost reality of man and of the world. It is therefore a wholly valid approach to the realm of faith, which gives human experience its ultimate meaning’ … Little girls in pink tutus can dance because the dance is meaningful in itself; the dance is a step outside the work-a-day world into the realm of the contemplation of Beauty."

Upon my first meeting with Joan Izzo, I knew I had found a dancer who truly believed that dance was contemplation of Divine Beauty. In her studio, there was no doubting the overt Christian mission. Izzo asserts that every girl, no matter size or shape or talent, can worship her Creator in dance. Furthermore, she believes that because they dance for Him, they should dance well. She emphasizes excellent technique, encouraging even the littlest girl to do her very best for God.

Girls can be tricky to raise, particularly as they grow older. And a group of girls, gathered together for long periods of time can present all sorts of opportunities to sin against charity. Bluntly put, girls can be mean. In one conversation, Izzo and I frankly discussed this tendency. She has a zero-tolerance policy regarding unkindness. To sin against charity is to invite expulsion. There is no room for cattiness or meanness or immodesty or vanity in this studio which has been set apart for praising Love Incarnate with one’s very self.

A dancer is exceptional in her ability to express emotion with her whole being. Joan Izzo, I am sure, is a great dancer. But she doesn’t perform anymore; she teaches. Still, her emotions exude from her person. In Him, she lives and breathes and finds her being. More than anyone I know, she has an aura about her of being moved — literally — by Christ. One of my favorite aspects of allowing her to help me raise my child is the talks we have in her little office when no one else is present. There, I know that her faith is genuine and that her mission is not a marketing gimmick. This is a woman whose whole life is a prayer. For her, helping me to raise my daughter — my dancer — is a ministry.

Raising children is an enormous responsibility. When we enlist the help of other people — teachers, coaches, scout leaders — we still retain the ultimate responsibility. To raise children to be good Christians requires us to be good Christians. Faith is caught much more than it is taught. When I drive away from the Joan Izzo Academy of Dance after leaving my daughter there, I am not afraid of what she might catch. Indeed, I am profoundly grateful for the blessing of Joan Izzo.

The week after the recital, my 8-year-old auditioned for a role in "The Nutcracker." This was her first real audition. Izzo was careful to tell the girls that if they weren’t physically strong enough for the role, it didn’t mean they were not good dancers or even that they’d never dance that role. It just meant it wasn’t time yet. In the van, on the way home, I tentatively asked Mary Beth how she thought it went, mentally reviewing my "A time for everything" talk.

"I think it was fine. I’ll be better for the second audition in August because I know I’ll be stronger. And I won’t be so nervous because I know how to do an audition now. And you know, if I’m not Clara this year, it just means that God wants me to be Clara when someone else is the Sugar Plum Fairy. He has a plan."

No speech necessary. Someone else is helping me to raise this child in faith.

For more information about the ministry of dance go to www.joanizzodance.org.

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