Friday, April 15, 2011

An Electricity

This writing is for me. So if you want to check out other blogs or go for another cup of coffee, please do. I'm writing this for both of my blogs this morning, because this is for the children filled with a power they don't understand. This is for the adults who can help the child. And, this is for the little girl who lived on Neff Road, a child who danced on the wind.

Last night my son and his wife took me to see the musical, Billy Elliott. The movie had been one of my favorites. Both shows have something different to offer, but the young man we watched last night who danced across the stage understood the power within Billy, a boy who heard a voice alien to his community and family. These miners had no time for dreams. Neither did farmers.

There is a scene in which Billy explains to a panel of judges what he feels when he dances. The boy sings about an electricity that comes from within him, an feeling that has no words, only movement. A power that is full of anger, excitement, passion. He danced, and we were all inspired. As a child, I was like that boy. I knew it and felt it once more as tears ran down my cheeks.

Our old farm house had a huge playroom upstairs. It had been my oldest sisters bedroom years before. Now it was my stage. I was very small when I realized the electricity that was part of me. When the music of my old records began to play, that electricity filled me to overflowing. I had to dance.

The church did not sanction dancing. My oldest sister took dance and could not tell anyone. Mom and Dad surprised me with dance lessons when I was about twelve with the addendum that I could not tell. I stood in the first class with six-year-olds and never returned. Still the music, the dance filled my soul to bursting. A feeling that is so strong that you think your skin will burst for trying to hold it in.

I sat in the packed auditorium, tears spilling onto my dress, wondering if anyone else besides me and the writer of this story understood the feelings this boy and I shared. His father could not hear understand the electricity this boy possessed. My parents couldn't either.

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