My First Time

By McKenzie Van der Hagen

I stood with other finalists on my team, waiting to hear the results of our early morning dance endeavors on the second day of Dance Fest 2015. The previous evening had been loud, and rambunctious with the electrifying chaos of team matches, but in this moment it was quiet. The Newcomer awards would be announced first and a chill trickled through my fishnet-adorned legs as I waited. I had been competitively dancing for just seven months, and the realization that I had made it all the way through to finals still surprised and delighted me.

Newcomer Rhythm Rumba. The sultry fluidity of rumba wasn't my strong point. As the awards were distributed to other finalists, I looked around the studio at this community of people who all shared my same enthusiasm for ballroom. A community that stretched so far beyond the college atmosphere, that I had always been exposed to. I saw the adorable old couple with an endless love for both dance, and each other. They were everything I wanted in life. I saw the kids who were half my age but already danced Latin better than I could ever imagine. I saw the cute boy from another college that I social danced with just a few minutes earlier as the results were being tabulated. I saw my family, who drove across the state to be here and finally share in this new passion that was quickly becoming a part of my identity. Lastly, I saw my team, my second family, who provided the support, guidance, and camaraderie to get me to this point. I don't know where I would be without them.

Newcomer Rhythm Cha-Cha. The butterflies in my stomach started to wiggle, and break free from their chrysalises. "In sixth place…", I heard as I listened intently as the names of my fellow competitors were read off one by one. I thought back to standing in line waiting to go on for the first heat. The hallway was packed with a swarm of eager, and anxious newcomers. We chatted with our numerical neighbors about our less than perfect attempts at hair and makeup and our search for the perfect dress. The conversation continued in each subsequent heat, until eventually those numerical neighbors were no longer present. As the heats continued the group got smaller, and smaller until only six couples remained.

"In third place…", I heard as I tried to remember my technique from that final dance. Had I articulated my feet, and projected my chest? Was I being snappy with my underarm turns? Had I really done well enough to be in the top three? But all I could remember was how much fun I'd had. My entire body oozed with happiness, and I couldn't help but smile, and even giggle.

"In second place…", said the announcer, and the name announced was not my own. I couldn't believe it. My eyes grew, and my lips parted ever so slightly. The newly emerged butterflies clung to their old homes. Everything felt so still.

"And in first place…", I heard the five syllables making up our names that I had been waiting for grace my eardrums, "Kyle and McKenzie." The butterflies leapt from their perches, and my insides turned into the same merry disarray that is Standard Viennese waltz. On the outside, my smile grew wider than ever.
I will never forget my first time…my first time dancing at a studio, my first time making it to finals, and my first time getting first place. I am forever grateful to Dance Fest for giving me the opportunity to experience these firsts.