Passing The Torch Hand to Hand

Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band.Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you’ll marry a music man.Ballerina, you must have seen her dancing in the sand.And now she’s in me, always with me, tiny dancer in my hand.

Elton John

Ballet Lessons for Real Life

Teaching has enormous appeal to Boomers as an antidote to careers that have come to feel soul-less. In Changing Lanes, I wrote about conducting an unscientific poll, asking male friends in their fifties and sixties what they might have been but for the pressure to be a financial success. A surprising number of these men responded, “I’d have been a teacher.”

If you’re lucky, you can recall a teacher who made a difference in your life. Perhaps it was a geometry teacher who brought out the beauty and elegance of mathematics. Or an English teacher who recognized your potential and made sure you were on a college prep track. Success later in life can often be traced back to a pivotal moment when a concerned teacher took special interest in a student and opened a door to the future.

For earlier generations of women, teaching was one of the only careers available to them when they graduated from college. My generation worked hard to create other options for ourselves and for the women who followed in our footsteps. Now that we have entered into a second phase of life, we find ourselves attracted to the very profession we had shunned as young adults. What seemed conventional and stereotypical, now appeals to our need for meaning in life. Teaching offers  the opportunity to pass on our accumulated knowledge and experience to a new generation of students. What could be more satisfying?

I got  a vivid illustration of one generation passing the torch to another on a recent trip to Russia that I’d like to share with you.

For my 60th birthday, my super-generous brother and sister-in-law gave me the gift of a trip to St. Petersburg to see the storied Mariinsky Ballet Company perform in their historic theater. For a life-long ballet freak like me, this was tantamount to a genie granting me my first, second and third fondest wishes all rolled into one.

I timed the trip to experience White Nights in St. Petersburg, when there is an annual music and ballet festival celebrating the arts during the summer solstice. The sun never seems to go down at this time of year which sends the people, residents and tourists alike, to the Neva River, the canals, and the many theaters in town for an orgy of music and dance.

"Dancers are the Athletes of God” – Albert Einstein

I was able to score house seats to two performances of the Mariinsky Ballet (the company formerly known as the Kirov) which were in the first box directly next to the stage. I’ve never seen ballet from this perspective before. It seemed like I could see every muscle ripple, every sequin on the elaborate costumes and sets, and every note on the orchestral scores in the pit just below my seat. From this vantage point, you can take in the nuances of the dancers’ performances and marvel at their artistry and not just the sheer physicality of their athleticism.

I was in heaven.

I was honored to have Marat Daukayev, a friend from L.A., accompany me the first night. Marat was a star with the Kirov where he danced, coached and taught for twenty years, earning him the prestigious title, “People’s Artist,” the highest honor bestowed by the Russian state. In between acts of Sleeping Beauty, Marat ushered me through the labyrinth of studios, staircases and offices that are the heart and soul of the Mariinsky, meeting Marat’s former colleagues from both sides of the curtain.

What struck me most was the tableau I witnessed backstage after the final curtain. Clusters of media interviewed the gorgeous principal dancers who had debuted in their starring roles that evening. But more amazing to me were the pairs of dancers and their coaches standing among the flowers strewn on the Marley floor. Each protégé, skin glistening with the sweat of their effort, listened intently as the coach gave immediate feedback on his or her performance. Every detail was dissected and reviewed.  The reverence for these former stars was palpable.

The intense connection between dancer and coach so intrigued me that I asked Marat to arrange a visit to the Vaganova School so I could see more of the training process up close and personal. The 270 year old Vaganova Ballet Academy was established by Empress Anna in the Winter Palace as the Imperial Theater School. It has produced some of the greatest ballet dancers in the world, including Nijinsky, Pavlova, Balanchine, Nureyev, and Baryshnikov. As Artistic Director of the Kirov Academy in Washington D.C. and his own academy in L.A., Marat made sure I got to see how the students “learn to develop physical coordination, grace, discipline, self-expression, and the true passion that art inspires.”

“Learn by Practice” – Martha Graham

My husband and I were ushered into a huge dance studio with soaring windows and a gorgeous wrought iron balustrade. Two rows of wooden chairs were placed in the front where a beautiful middle-aged woman rehearsed the students for their graduation performance to be given at the Mariinsky the next night. (We learned later she is Atlynay Asylmuratova, Artistic Director of the academy and also a People’s Artists of Russia winner.) Bill and I sat next to a row of older but hardly babushka-ladies, well turned out and made-up, who caucused together during the rehearsal. Occasionally, one would call out to a student who would come scurrying to hear what she needed to do differently with her hip, her hand placement,  or the turn of her head.

The pianist played Chopin, Tchaikovsky and modern pieces while the students of all ages were put through their paces. At each stopping point, the students waited to hear from their teachers and coaches. It was all done in Russian, of course, so I don’t know what was said. But I didn’t get the feeling that this was a “nice going” pat on the head kind of discussion. The dancer/coach pairings were on a quest for perfection. Every detail came under critical review. Hands touched bodies—instant feedback and communication on a level I had never seen before. It was mesmerizing.

I was witnessing the passing on of knowledge and experience from one generation to another—like a torch, passed hand to hand.

I couldn’t help thinking about our education system at home which is in such tatters. If we could only harness the energy and experience of my generation to work with our kids in a process that seeks to bring the best out of each and every child. It is too much to ask for perfection and too harsh to put students through what it takes to achieve it. But setting high standards and creating an environment which supports high achievement—this we can do.

And must do.

Bill and I came home energized to make a difference on the issue of education. Bill has joined the advisory board of KIPP:LA, where every child answers the question, “What grade are you in?” by stating the year of his graduation from High School. I have joined the board of the Gabriella Charter School, where every child gets an hour of dance as P.E. every day. I’m also hoping to work with Civic Ventures on an “encore careers”  program for L.A. to bring baby boomers and classrooms together to benefit the kids, to be sure, but also to benefit us boomers who are seeking a life of fulfillment and purpose.

What are you doing?

My goal in life is to give to the world what I was lucky to receive:
the ecstasy of divine union through my music and my dance.

~ Michael Jackson 

For more about changing lanes to teaching, tutoring, and education reform, see the stories about our change artists, David Hinden, Bill Siart, and others in Changing Lanes: Road Maps to Midlife Renewal (Radom Press,2008). And send us your inspirational story in the comment box below ….

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