Our daughter has been dancing since she first saw The Nutcracker at age two.  No, I take that back.  She’s been dancing since she was in the womb.  Ever since she began moving in my belly, I always said, “This baby is dancing!”  We purposefully kept her away from formal lessons for many years, so she could just enjoy and fall in love with dancing and moving in ways that brought her joy.  Her love for dance radiates as she performs for us in the living room or at a park.  Her indoor shows are always complete with costumes and original choreography and delightful music.  But along with this obvious passion for dance, we’ve also been amazed at watching our daughter’s grace and natural abilities as a dancer.  Every parent thinks their kid is incredible, so I totally get that we are biased here, but her dancing leaves us (and other adults who love her) truly amazed.

Last year we moved and found a magnificent dance studio – Wonderfully kind owners who also have the talent and experience to help support dancers who have gone on into professional companies.  Teachers who teach and expect quality, while also being funny and gentle and human.  A great and safe community of supportive kids and parents. – Everything we could have asked for.

Granted, it’s been a strange year indeed, with the ending of the dance year being on Zoom and her first-ever recital being cancelled.  Very small prices to pay in the scheme of our world right now, but these things can be huge, especially for a new dancer.  Our feisty girl, who usually speaks her mind quite loudly and forcefully at times, approached me very calmly a few weeks before the dance year was ending and told me she’d like to finish out the session and then be done.

My heart sank.  My mind went reeling.  I never thought I’d be a parent who “pushed” their kid into doing something, but that’s all I wanted to do.  I know it doesn’t make sense, and there is no way to make this girl do anything she doesn’t want to do.  I’ve watched kids be miserable and resentful as their parents claim they can’t be “quitters.”  And that’s not the route I want to take.  As this attached article says:

“Many American parents are allergic to quitting. They’d rather raise a villain than a quitter.”

But when I actually found myself in the situation, it all became more complicated.  Here it is, the end of a session, perfect timing.  But, what about all her potential?  As an adult, can’t I see a few steps ahead?  Isn’t that part of my job?  Haven’t I heard almost every adult I know wish they had kept going with fill-in-the-blank when they were younger? (Although most often, for some reason, piano lessons.)  Would we be doing her a disservice just “letting” her stop, or is that just us respecting her wishes?

“Let’s take out the word “push.” It’s not a word that’s going to get you anywhere positive with your child. Instead, reframe this as “support.”

Is there a way you can support your child to take on these challenges with determination and courage?”

I love that she knows what she wants or doesn’t want and speaks her mind about it.  I want her opinion to feel as respected as it’s always been.  I also liked this from the article:

“It doesn’t really matter whether she dances. What matters is that you see this as an opportunity to support her in a clear-minded and compassionate manner.”

It’s always a case-by-case basis.  And reading the comments below the article was encouraging.  I feel like many of the parents I’ve met or overheard do have the “my-kid-will-do-this-because-I-said-so” mentality, so it was refreshing to read parents who felt otherwise.  Pushing kids to do something they’re unhappy in feels wrong.  But, I’ve also seen the joy and pride that can come to a person when they push through something difficult.  So, when do you encourage that and when do you let go?  One of my favorite bits in the comments was this:

“Ask yourself first who you are doing this for — your child, or you. This answer will guide everything else.”

And the answer to that question also feels complicated.  I never thought I’d be a parent living vicariously through my kids, but this kind of feels like I’m doing that.  I’ve never been as talented at anything as she is with ballet.  So, yes, I’m probably feeling this way about her leaving because it’s my own wish that she keep going.  I’d personally LOVE to be able to move and dance the way she’s able to.  Even watching her dance, I can get a hint of what a beautiful feeling it must be for her to express herself that way.  So, even though it feels like a selfish parenting reason at times, I also genuinely see the joy dance brings to her.  In this past year of finally taking dance classes, she’s gained new flexibility and strength and moves that she wouldn’t have otherwise had.  Continuing to put the time and effort into developing those skills would allow her to experience the thrill of being able to express herself through dance in heightened ways.  Right?  … Or am I just trying to convince myself or something?

So, we shall see how this unfolds.  Perhaps this is the end of her dancing journey.  Perhaps she’ll find another type of dance she’d prefer.  Perhaps she’ll keep dancing on her own and eventually want to go back to classes.  Perhaps she’ll change her mind tomorrow and none of this debating will be necessary.  It’s not that we haven’t talked with her about this–the reasons to stay or leave.  It does warrant more conversation.  But, if she ultimately wants to be done, then all we can do is take a step back and have faith.  Because it’s obvious this girl has gumption and passion and talent and strength.  Part of being her parent is guiding her and introducing her to things the best way we know how, but part of being a parent is also stepping back and letting her “write her own story.”

UPDATE