Ballet Lessons
When Gracie was three she started taking ballet. Ballet is perhaps a generous word for what they do in her 30 minute Saturday morning class, but it is held at a ballet school and she is required to wear a pink leotard and pink tights and it feels like ballet to her, and so the entire thing is magic. And it is magic, those girls in their pink leotards skipping across the scuffed wooden floor, their hair in tiny buns, their round bellies round because they have no reason to hold them in.
Grace will be five years old in August and she does not have the body she had when she started ballet. Her arms are leaner and longer, and so is her face. She has grown out of two pairs of ballet shoes and a drawer-full of pink tights. She also has a different sort of mind now and she tell us things, tell us about what she hopes for and what she imagines. When I see her girl body and the way she moves in it as though she both loves it and doesn’t notice it, and when I listen to the thoughts of her girl mind that does not know there are things she might not want to tell us, that in this world her desires are supposed to remain veiled and secret, I realize that we are in some sort of glorious valley with her– like Monument Valley in Utah– and we can see all these amazing red rock formations, we can see them for miles and miles because the light is so good and the land so flat, but that soon enough we will be in the mountains, we will be deep in some forest and it will be too foggy to see the road signs.
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Two weeks ago she missed ballet. The next day a friend whose daughter is in the class asked me if we had skipped on purpose.
“No,” I said. “Just couldn’t get there. Why?”
“It was a make-up class,” she said, and by make-up I assumed she meant a class scheduled as consolation for the grillion snow storm cancellations we’ve has this year.
But that wasn’t what she meant.
She meant make-up as in foundation and blush and blue eye-shadow and Jon Benet Ramsey. She meant that, in preparation for this year’s performance, the teacher and parents put make-up on the girls. The girls. The 3-5 year old girls.
The thing is, I love make-up. I love wearing it, I love paying way too much money for it. I love opening a new cake of foundation, its surface neatly raked like one of those zen sand gardens, the mirror shiny and without smudges. I love turning a silver tube of lipstick, and I love that I can put it on without a mirror. And Grace loves make-up, too. She might still be wearing diapers were it not for her obsession with my Bobbi Brown blush (color: Ski Slopes) which I let her hold, then open, then touch, then smell, then touch again while sitting on the toilet. She would decide she was done trying to go, start to hop off the pot, and I would frantically shove a Lancome eye shadow box in her hand. “Look!” I would say, my voice up two octaves in an attempt to conceal my desperation, “this one is called Sweet Tart!”
But I don’t let her wear make-up. She wants to, she asks if when she is older we can share and I tell her that when she is older we can, but it will be a loooong time before she is older enough to wear make-up. I don’t let her wear make-up because she is a child, she is a baby for Christ’s sake, and because there is nothing more beautiful than her face and because I am sicked by the thought of adults putting make-up on children’s faces.
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I called the ballet teacher. “So,” I said in my sweetest voice, “Someone told me that last Saturday’s class was a make-up class.
“It was.”
Okay. “Well, Chris and I just wanted to check in about that.” (anyone who knows me knows that for me, “just want to check-in about that” is code for “just want to find out what the fuck you were thinking about that.”)
Silence.
“The thing is,” I continued, “we’re just not comfortable with Grace wearing make-up. We think she’s too young. If the girls will be wearing make-up in the performance, then Grace won’t be able to participate.”
She told me that yes, all the girls would be wearing make-up, but that they would not be putting it on in class again.
I then asked her to please proceed with Grace as though she were participating in the show, that we had no plans to tell her that she wasn’t going to participate.
Later I filled Chris in on the phone conversation, and we once again agreed that Grace can’t be in the show. “She’ll forget about it, if we skip class towards the end of May,” I said.
“And if she asks about it, we’ll just tell her we are going away.”
“Oh, she won’t even ask.”
You can’t fault us for our hope.
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“Mama, did you know that all the girls are going to wear make-up at the dance recital? S. and G. told me that. They told me that we are going to wear make-up that is black lines under our eyes.”
“Hmm. Really?”
“Really. Is that OK with you? Is that going to be OK for me to wear make-up?”
I don’t answer. I am too busy wondering if I will get caught setting the ballet studio on fire.
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That conversation with Grace was this afternoon. And I am still furious. I am furious at Grace’s ballet teacher, and I am furious at this crazy fucked-up world that we live in where people think it is acceptable to put make-up on children. And mostly I am furious at the position we are in now, the position of having to deny Grace something that she wants in an attempt to protect her. I don’t know if we are doing the right thing. All I know is that if I let my four year-old daughter wear make-up in a ballet performance, then I will lose something that I can never get back. This might sound overly-dramatic and maybe it is. But I can’t help it. We’re in Monument Valley with her. And I just don’t know when we’re going to see this kind of beauty again.
I hear you on the make-up and little girls and the whole Jon Benet Ramsey issue – but try to think of this as the theatrical performance it really is. EVERYONE in the theater wears make-up, not as movie stars and models do, but to portray their character and give expression — how would you be able to see their faces on stage from so far away in the audience? (As a pink tights and tutu-wearing former ballerina and the mother of two precious little ballerinas, I would really feel badly for both you and Chris if you had to miss this magical event in Gracie’s little life. It really is part of the fabulous Monument Valley experience that you shoudn’t miss (nor should she – can you just imagine how exciting it will be for her? The costumes and hair and all — ?!?). Maybe you could just look at it in a different kind of light – theatrically-speaking, I mean.
WTF indeed. I have no answers for you. It’s all so hard and I honestly don’t know what I’d do if faced with this situation.
When my 3 year old had her ballet “recital”, there was no make-up involved. And it was still incredible adorable and perfect. I don’t see why the studio would need to put make up on 3-5 year olds. What do the other moms think? Are you friendly enough with them to suggest a no make up recital?
Charley, thanks so much for your thoughtful comment. I do understand the whole concept of theater make-up, but the truth is I’m not really comfortable with Grace being in any kind of performance that takes itself seriously enough to require that her face be seen from far away. I’m more a fan of a handful of parents sitting on the floor in the studio while the girls twirl and bumble around us for a few minutes after class.
The other issue, which I didn’t address in my post, but seems relevant in light of your comment about pink tights and tutus and your precious ballerinas (and I’m sure they were!) is that the costume that was chosen for Grace’s class seems really inappropriate to me. I won’t go into the details, but suffice it to say a sailor hat and white gloves are involved. There’s a certain element of tradition that is lost (at least for me) when the costuming starts to veer away from pink tights and tutus, and that is also part of my concern.
And I know it would be exciting for Grace, and it will be exciting for her when she is older. But if I’ve learned one thing from being the mother of a precocious child in a fast world, it’s that she only gets to be a very little girl for a very little while, and that while she is, I have to do everything I can to keep her that way.
Stick to your guns; go with your gut. If it feels wrong it is wrong. She is your child, raise her the way you think is right.
I don’t have children but when I see those kiddie pageants it creeps me out. They making a three year old look like an aloof twenty three year old. It appears to sexualize them. They are children let them stay that way as long as they can. Our society has shortened childhood enough. A little makeup at this pageant by the fourth one they can teach them to do strip teases and pole dance.
I believe you are dead right to hold the line where your gut tells you too. I am a generation older than you and for different reasons when my girls were young I forbid them to watch “The Brady Bunch”, they were not happy about it because everyone at school referenced the shows, but I felt strongly and held my ground. Now as grown feminists themselves they find this long ago rule amusing and a badge of early feminist training. We all have to decide where we draw the line with our little ones as we do our best to help them move through the world with good values. These stands help them to understand those values, maybe not in the moment, but eventually. Keep up the good work, explain when she can understand, and feel good about what you are doing.
When my eldest daughter was younger she loved makeup. Any kind of makeup. Every Halloween costume required elaborate makeup – cats, dogs, ghosts and even ballerinas. When Halloween was over there was the random dress up that required some sort of makeup.
Her dance recitals all required makeup and the hairstyles were dictated – tight bun, french braids, pony tails. And I didn’t like it. Until I went to my first recital and realized why makeup was required.
It was the theater. The costume and makeup were It all part of becoming what she was playing on stage just as it was for Halloween. Not to mention the fact that under lights and on stage if you do not wear makeup, you have no face.
She is now 22. She did not turn into a floozy. She doesn’t wear excessive makeup – mascara and eyeliner with no foundation at the most. She finished college. She’s got a job. She didn’t get preganant or use drugs. She didn’t drink until it was legal. She never got a ticket.
But she still likes to dress up for Halloween. And yes, makeup is always involved.
Hi,
A longtime lurker here…I stumbled across your blog a while ago off of Zanne’s blog. Hope you don’t mind my reading. And, I have a funny feeling that we’ve met somewhere along the way — I too live in the hilltowns.
Anyway, this post is bringing me out of lurk-ville to mostly just say that, yes, I think you are doing the right thing. I too was appalled when my now 10 year old daughter was taking ballet/tap classes years ago and the recital involved make-up. She was 4 years old. Good grief! She didn’t do the recital — too shy for that sort of thing — but even if she wanted to, the teacher would have had to agree to no make-uo on my kid.
I get the whole stage make-up thing. But these are little people, with young skin, and, there is nothing that needs to be put on them to make them any more beautiful.
Good luck.
I enjoyed this post, because I recently got caught up in a lesser version – kiddie tatoos! My friend and my 13 year old niece together put St. Pat’s Day tats on my nearly three year old. They wanted to put them on my baby too but I stood firm (I was not in the room when the tats went on the toddler). No one at the party seemed to get my displeasure but I just didn’t want her beauty covered by cartoons, which, because we are the palest damn people ever, would then be on her legs and tummy for 2 1/2 weeks, and I would have her running around lifting her shirt to show people her tatoos. I hate the marring of her perfect skin, and I hate the encouragement to mock adult behavior. If she wants tatoos as an adult then fine, but why on a person who is still in diapers?? Ahh, call us old fashioned, but I think you are right to keep the make up off the girl.
Your post made me cry. My kid is the same age as yours, and she has been taking ballet for the same length of time. I let her wear the stage make-up for her recital (it was a big stage). But I don’t let her watch iCarly or Hannah Montana even though literally every other kindergartner in her school watches those shows.
We all have our lines in the sand, I get that. However I have really talked it over with my kid about the reasons we don’t watch those tv shows. And if one comes on the tv she immediately alerts me to change the channel.
Good luck! That metaphor for childhood and monument valley is going to stick with me for awhile; very apt.
Thanks to all for your thoughtful comments!
And Chrisoula, our paths have crossed–we were partners at the CPR class a few Saturdays ago! Thanks so much for reading, and I hope to see you again soon under more light-hearted circumstances.
Hi again. I had a funny feeling that I knew you from somewhere when we met at the CPR class. Thanks for putting the pieces together for me!
Hope to see you around as well.
Just a thoughtful inquiry. Would you be just as opposed to them doing a recital as animals and using makeup? (Think “Cats” on Broadway) I was in a pageant for several years, and it was most respectable. Makeup on anyone under 13 caused points to be taken -off-, no wild costumes, no bathing suit for any age. I learned so much from the pageant I was in, and have a really difficult time seeing the so-called glamour pageants ruining this image. Off-topic. Anyway, I’m sure this would be difficult for your daughter to understand but would she be able to participate without the makeup? Perhaps you could have her do a solo performance for whoever she’d be comfortable with (also removing the costume worry) instead? I’d probably be seeking out another ballet school if possible! I know the jazz classes I was part of never involved makeup and the leotards we had to buy ourselves, therefore letting my mom use her own discretion.
As a parent you need to stick up for your values and do what you think is best for your kids.
I don’t think little girls should be wearing makeup on a regular basis, it is not appropriate and I think it can lead to self image problems because they think they need makeup to be pretty and liked. However, for a dance recital I do not have a problem with a little makeup. My 4 year old daughter will be having her first dance recital next weekend and the instructors have encouraged the parents to put makeup on the kids – not because they need it to look pretty but just so you can see their faces a little better under the lights. They are having their pictures taken in their tutus a couple of days before the recital and I will not have her wear makeup for that – there is no need, my little ballerina is beautiful just the way she is.
It is so hard to be the ’strict parent’, isn’t it? There are so many shows my kids don’t get to watch and so many toys they don’t get to play with. I know I’m right about the limits we’ve set for our kids, but it’s heartbreaking when the kids are so disappointed about missing out on something ‘everyone else’ is doing. I’m with you on the makeup, though. I once made the mistake of doing my daughter’s face (just eyeshadow, powder, and lipstick) when I was getting ready for a date night with my husband. When I was done, I was appalled at what I had done to my beautiful little three year-old. From that moment on, she’s been restricted to painting her toenails and fingernails. Luckily, she’s pretty happy with that. I’m dreading kindergarten this fall, though, because I know the peer pressure is just going to be worse.
I think you rock and good for you for sticking with your guns. I agree with you completely and think you are doing the right thing. I think make up on little girls for dance recitals is horrific. I recently rediscovered your blog and am loving catching up!
I’m sure by now the recital is over, so this comment is coming a day late and a dollar short, but maybe it will help for next year.
I was a dance teacher for 15 years before I became a school teacher. My thoughts are this – if you came and talked to me concerning your feelings about make-up, then I would tell you that your daughter didn’t have to wear it for the show. I would give you the reasons why they wear it (i.e. all the theatrical reasons posted above) but I would HATE for your daughter to miss recital because of make-up. I would rather see her on stage, make-up free, than not at all.
I would have been thankful for the fact that you came to talk to me, her dance teacher, before the show about the situation, rather than just showing up without make-up. If the dance teacher didn’t know ahead of time, you would have run into other moms wanting to put make-up on your daughter, or other teachers confronting you about it, and then there would have possibly been a scene. If there’s a heads-up, that saves a lot of drama.
Just my two cents!