There Is No "We" Here.
I took up competitive Irish dancing again. I'm out of college. I have a job. I'm single. I have no kids. This is the fun time of life. There are things that I definitely missed about Irish. I can't lie about that. However, there are also things that I definitely didn't miss. I feel like Irish dance does a pretty good job of not being a "dance mom" sport, but that doesn't mean it doesn't exist. Any competitive activity, especially of the non-team variety, is going to get those people who really just need to take a chill pill. Your child is seven. If she doesn't get first, or doesn't even place, there will be much bigger problems in her life. I can guarantee that.
And I'll admit that Irish dancing looks over the top from the outside. The big wigs (which actually have a very important traditional context) and the sequined dresses (which have strayed much too far from their important traditional context) ask people to look at it and say, "What is this? Toddlers and Tiaras?" And like everything else on earth, TLC has sensationalized it with their documentary "The Big Jig." Of course, they're going to pick the whackerdoodle moms who love one daughter more than the other because she's a better dancer. That's what TLC does for a living. I always tell people to take anything on TLC with a grain of salt. Like Breaking Amish? They're not even actual Amish people. But, I promise that the people in TLC documentaries are exceptions and not rules.
But that doesn't mean that mothers don't get carried away sometimes. At my Irish dance practice today, a lot of people were in freak-out mode because there's a feis here in Utah next weekend. A feis is an Irish dance competition, and since they didn't really have to travel, pretty much everyone is competing in it. I'm not, because it's my week on, and I'm aiming to be ready to compete by August. Anyways, while the mothers did their obligatory group freak-out, I noticed one thing that bothers me in the way they say things. "We're doing the feis." "We're hoping we place in slip jigs." "We aren't doing treble jig this feis."
Now, I'm not blind. I am aware that even though I did violin growing up, my mother put in probably as much time and effort into it. Driving me back and forth is time consuming, and I remember the days of my mom singing the accompaniment of Boccherini's Minuet while she sewed and I played, because I needed to get it right with the accompaniment, but she needed to finish Sarah's baby bibs and couldn't come play the piano right then. And I immensely appreciate those days. I'm just saying that saying that you are competing, or that you are placing is dangerous. And here's why.
You are not competing. You are not placing. Bottom line: you are not living through this child. If your daughter spaces out on stage and ends up not remembering a tiny bit of her step, that isn't your failure. And it doesn't reflect back on you. And she probably feels bad about it. And if your daughter (or son, there are male Irish dancers) nails it--gets every foot placement, every beat right on, and gets the air of a bird in flight, with points as neat as needles--you didn't do that either. You don't own that victory. That is your child's victory. And even though you deserve 110% Mommy Kudos for supporting them and getting them there, you aren't them. Have you ever heard an Olympic athlete's parent claim to be a medalist? That would be weird. So, don't live through them.
Remember that. Because I'm the weird twenty-three-year-old in the competitive Novice/Prizewinner class who is with your daughter or son in class (parents have to stay in the hall), and I have come to love them like little brothers and sisters (or sometimes like sons or daughters), and I don't want them growing up with a complex. Don't live through your child.
And I'll admit that Irish dancing looks over the top from the outside. The big wigs (which actually have a very important traditional context) and the sequined dresses (which have strayed much too far from their important traditional context) ask people to look at it and say, "What is this? Toddlers and Tiaras?" And like everything else on earth, TLC has sensationalized it with their documentary "The Big Jig." Of course, they're going to pick the whackerdoodle moms who love one daughter more than the other because she's a better dancer. That's what TLC does for a living. I always tell people to take anything on TLC with a grain of salt. Like Breaking Amish? They're not even actual Amish people. But, I promise that the people in TLC documentaries are exceptions and not rules.
But that doesn't mean that mothers don't get carried away sometimes. At my Irish dance practice today, a lot of people were in freak-out mode because there's a feis here in Utah next weekend. A feis is an Irish dance competition, and since they didn't really have to travel, pretty much everyone is competing in it. I'm not, because it's my week on, and I'm aiming to be ready to compete by August. Anyways, while the mothers did their obligatory group freak-out, I noticed one thing that bothers me in the way they say things. "We're doing the feis." "We're hoping we place in slip jigs." "We aren't doing treble jig this feis."
Now, I'm not blind. I am aware that even though I did violin growing up, my mother put in probably as much time and effort into it. Driving me back and forth is time consuming, and I remember the days of my mom singing the accompaniment of Boccherini's Minuet while she sewed and I played, because I needed to get it right with the accompaniment, but she needed to finish Sarah's baby bibs and couldn't come play the piano right then. And I immensely appreciate those days. I'm just saying that saying that you are competing, or that you are placing is dangerous. And here's why.
You are not competing. You are not placing. Bottom line: you are not living through this child. If your daughter spaces out on stage and ends up not remembering a tiny bit of her step, that isn't your failure. And it doesn't reflect back on you. And she probably feels bad about it. And if your daughter (or son, there are male Irish dancers) nails it--gets every foot placement, every beat right on, and gets the air of a bird in flight, with points as neat as needles--you didn't do that either. You don't own that victory. That is your child's victory. And even though you deserve 110% Mommy Kudos for supporting them and getting them there, you aren't them. Have you ever heard an Olympic athlete's parent claim to be a medalist? That would be weird. So, don't live through them.
Remember that. Because I'm the weird twenty-three-year-old in the competitive Novice/Prizewinner class who is with your daughter or son in class (parents have to stay in the hall), and I have come to love them like little brothers and sisters (or sometimes like sons or daughters), and I don't want them growing up with a complex. Don't live through your child.
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