Do Insecurities Push Me To Be Better?

This year, my summer intensive teaching responsibilities included ballet for modern dancers, and modern classes in the style of Paul Taylor. I have taken this opportunity to observe, in particular, my personal feelings about the very first class of each discipline I am teaching. The majority of students in my classes are new to me, from widely disparate backgrounds, and our time together is limited. So the introductory class is that crucial “first impression” from both my and the students’ perspectives.

In hindsight, I have observed that my time as a teacher, coach or guide, has been considerably more solitary than my time as a dancer. During my dancing years, my focus gradually shifted far beyond just what I was doing, to observing my peers’ talents, strengths and weaknesses. At times, this broader perspective was emotionally hard to balance in assessing my talents and strengths against my weaknesses.

My perfectionism underpins an obsessive work ethic, but for me, comparison and contrast helps me balance a realistic expectation on any outcome. My freelance teaching years have been peppered with seeking to observe or participate in the classes of other dance teachers. Pedagogically, it makes sense that classes are led by individuals with self confidence in their knowledge, intent and faith in process. However, I perpetually question what key “tools” I may have forgotten, overlooked, or have never understood, as I don’t regularly get to observe other teachers guiding their students to be their best selves. And when I do, my insecurities heighten my self-judgement. So I remind myself that I continue to be invited back to work with institutions, and my past students do drop me a fond reminiscence every once in a while.

1983 as Profiteer in "The Green Table" (photo by Marty Sohl)

As a young dancer, dance critics can challenge the hubris of being a featured performer. For me, one such comment struck and stuck. “Richard Chen See will not efface memories of Gary Chryst’s Profiteer for the Joffrey: but this was a remarkably agile and telling try at a difficult role.” - Ulrich, Allan. “Oakland Ballet’s Grand Debut” The Tribune (Oakland, CA) Sep 24^th, 1984.

Decades later I would have the chance to meet Gary Chryst and share my personal admiration of his performing career though I omitted telling him of the review. Allan’s comment has always reminded me that we live in a continuum of accomplishments that are very rarely unique to us. 

I think that great teachers bring a unique personality and approach to both how they construct class material and how they impart understanding and execution. I think of myself as a good teacher, but I continue to challenge my own approaches and expectations with each new class of students and each new environment.

As a dance teacher, I do best at preparing my movement material for class no more than 24-hours in advance. I have numerous “standard” exercises and phrases on which I can draw, in the event that I have to adapt my planned class. But I like to have a plan, and since I am not expecting any phrases I make up to be lasting etudes, my memory for such phrases remains in my brain’s short term access. In ballet, movement phrases are referred to as enchainment which translates as “linking” steps. Movement phrases in my classes are often designed to push students to observe “how” they link steps or actions for musicality, qualitative effect or dramatic intent (well… all of the aforementioned), while also challenging/indicating their technical proficiency. So this preparatory exercise helps me clarify my goal for each and every class I teach. In truth, I never feel fully prepared, yet somehow I survive that first class.

Once I am in front of a class, the reality of how things progress can vary greatly, especially on “day one.” I have grown accustomed to adjusting both my “prepared” material and my “goals” on the fly. But I like to think that I have considered salient points of intersection between my knowledge and the triggers that will engage the students under my charge. While it may be clichéd, I really do try to learn from how my students respond to what I present in every class. I’d be lying if I said that I teach without expectation of seeing students improve in my eyes, and I have had to creatively go beyond anything I have prepared to try and fulfill my expectations. That said, much credit must go to the openness, efforts and talents of each dancer in my classes whom are learning to trust their own dancing.

The fear of not fulfilling a projected goal as a teacher, choreographer, or manager is what keeps me awake the night before my “first day of school.” Experience of having “survived” that initial plunge is what gives me the confidence to take the first step into the room. And knowing that I have done my best to consider as many possible perspectives as I could in advance has never failed to help me see creative options when life throws a “mischievous monkey” into the mix.

I tell myself that I am exactly where I need to be in life, that my life to date has given me just enough tools and knowledge to continue launching myself into the unknown, and that I must remember to be grateful for the directors, peers and students that have provided me with ongoing opportunities to grow as a teacher.

These were my 2018 summer intensive students at The Ailey School where I was teaching Taylor-style modern classes.

These were my 2018 summer intensive students at the Taylor School where I was teaching ballet.