She Hung Up Her Tap Shoes. I’m Still Lacing Mine.

Last year, at 71, my friend Fayge hung up her tap shoes. 

Not dramatically. Not with a final Broadway bow.

Just quietly. After eighteen years of shuffle-ball-change, costume mishaps, and late-night laughter.

When we began dancing at 50 (me) and 52 (Fayge), we were on top of our game. (Yes, really.)

As the years went by, tap became more challenging, but we did our best with a determined smile. And there is a moment we often shared that I treasure most.

After a particularly difficult step - the kind that requires fierce concentration and silent prayer - when we somehow managed to execute it without collapsing into each other, Fayge and I would reach out and squeeze hands. No words. Just that squeeze.

We did it.

That squeeze said: We’re still here.
Still moving.
Still brave enough to try.

WOMEN OF STEEL

But tap is not simple at any age. It demands speed, precision, strong knees, cooperative ankles.

Now Fayge and I have none of those things.

Fayge was diagnosed with Parkinson’s years ago. Yet, she kept dancing. She kept showing up every Tuesday night with lipstick on and her tap shoes laced tight. But last season she decided that the turns and the quick movements – um, tap is mostly turns and quick movements - were asking more than her body could give.

So she chose to stop.

ALONE ON THE DANCE FLOOR

So, here I am. Seventy years old.
In a class of women ranging from 33 to 50 … and then… me.

I have arthritis in my ankle, which makes my shuffles occasionally slur in ways I’d rather not discuss, and hops live only in my mind. My knee, injured two years ago, still negotiates every fast combination. When the choreography calls for “quick and light,” I do my best to remember what that once felt like.

Still, Tuesday night tap is my happy place.

KEEPING MOVING

Fayge may have hung up her tap shoes, but she didn’t hang up her dance costumes. She still performs in “The Walker Dance,” a joyful piece filled with women over sixty who march and sway with more energy than orthopedists would advise. (We dance with walkers, but B"H, they're still props.) Fayge does yoga. She exercises. She shows up for life.

And she still belongs to our tap family.

She keeps in touch. She cheers us on. She lives in our inside jokes. Even without the shoes, she is part of the rhythm.

And me?

Fayge has officially made me the oldest tap dancer in Gush Etzion.

For now, I am choosing to stay. To shuffle imperfectly. To ice my ankle. To stand in a room full of younger women and claim my place anyway.

One day, I too may hang up my shoes.

But not yet.

For now, when the music starts and the floor answers back, I am still reaching for that invisible hand squeeze.

Still here.
Still moving.
Still dancing.

(Photos by our dear friends - Rebecca Kowalsky and Beth Lanin)

 

Just Dance!

On Isru Chag, I'll be tap dancing in two numbers for the Efrat Community Center end-of-the-year dance recital. Six-year-olds will twirl in their tutus. Teenagers will energize the audience with their hip hop. I'll be joining our tap troupe, Steps Ahead, as we dazzle on the dance floor with a dozen women from 16 to 65.

Most of us have been dancing together with incredible choreographer Judy Feinerman Kizer for 11 years now. My daughter Bati was the youngest then, 15 years old, and today the youngest is adorable Shira. We're a dancing family - every age, every background, every body type - and we're happiest when we're together. Of course, for Fayge at 65 and me at 63, it's not as easy as it used to be. Our shuffles are not as fast and our flaps sometimes don't sound so sharp.
But we love to tap, and as long as our dancing family will have us, we'll keep practicing and trying to keep up.
Dancing gives us joy. It surrounds us with the women we love. It's healthy too - good for the heart, the brain, the muscles, balance, etc.
So, I may not be so light or quick on my feet anymore, but you won't see anyone with a bigger smile or having more fun out there on the dance floor.

When the Heart Says 'Yes', and the Body Says 'No'

Our Steps Ahead Tap Troupe on Stage
in "Dames of the Dance 10 - Legacy"

My friend Fayge and I have a nightmare. We talk about it all the time. The nightmare is: no longer being able to tap dance. Yes, it’s true. We’re 62 and 64 and we tap dance. Actually, we live for tap dancing.

Fayge and I on stage in DAMES 1, more than 10 years ago.

We both began tapping ten years ago (really 11). I was just past 50 and she a drop older. Who begins tapping at 50? That’s when tap dancers are retiring. But my doctor told me that I had osteoporosis and dancing would be good for me. So, Ginger Rogers just had to move aside. Two minutes ago, I called Fayge to ask why she started tap dancing. Her answer was simple, “Because you did.”

Wow, I never knew that. Mwa, Fayge, love you!

Well, thanks to our patient talented teacher/ choreographer Judy Kizer, we learned amazing steps and have gotten better and more proficient year by year. We’ve also gotten older. How come no one else in our troupe has aged? Really!

We come to rehearsal with pains in our knees or toes. Fayge has sciatica. I have arthritis. But we keep tapping. And as long as our troupe will have us, we’ll try to keep up.

Our tap troupe, our family, led by choreographer Judy Kizer

Our tap troupe is our family. I think they’re keeping us young to some extent. We feel better when the dozen of us are standing up together. Fayge and I want to succeed because of them. We want to try harder. And when all that fails, Fayge says she smiles, and that’s all that anyone cares about.

By all accounts, dancing is supposed to reduce your blood pressure. That might well be true. I hope it’s strengthening my bones, like my doctor promised. It’s thought to keep your brain sharp, prevent Alzheimer’s and dementia. I hope that’s correct, but when we’re learning a step, I always worry, “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, I don’t know what’s next!! Help help help.” B”H, somehow when we perform, all the steps and formations come to me (and if they don’t, some dancer that I love pushes or pulls me to the right place).

JE SUIS UNE DANSEUSE

I am a tapper. Tap dancing is what I do. It’s part of my identity. My tap bag is always ready. When I pick it up and rush off to rehearsal, I can’t help but hold back the smile I feel taking over my face. I can’t wait to see my dancing pals. I can’t wait for our group hug. I can’t wait to praise each one for the amazing way she executed a step.

Last year, I injured my knee. I could hardly stand. I lamented to my husband, “Maybe I should quit. What good is a dancer who can’t stand up?” “Never quit,” he said. “Always dance. Never quit.” I actually listened to him, and although I could only stand for ten minutes of our 60-minute class, I kept going. B”H, my knee healed. I’m still making up from a year of injury, but I persevere.

Fayge keeps going too. She kvetches and I krich, but we do it on the dance floor.

Last week, we completed a fabulastic season of dance with the production “Dames of the Dance 10 – Legacy.” The dances were more than spectacular. The dancers more than gorgeous. We even received praise from respected columnist Barbara Sofer: http://www.jpost.com/Opinion/Dancing-grandmas-543899

Fayge and I on stage in this year's DAMES.

We danced with uber-talented teenagers, with magnificent ballerinas, sexy belly dancers, exotic Bollywood dancers, energetic hip hoppers. They were all marvelous and duly praised. And what got surprise acclaim by Barbara Sofer and our audience, as well? Our dancing grandmas!
Maybe our grannies gave audience members hope that quality of life, creativity, friendship, fun and achievement continue after 60. Maybe we were just funny. Whatever the reason, we were dancing!

So, when the heart says 'yes', do everything possible for as long as you can to make the body say 'yes' too.

 [Thank you to Rebecca Kowalsky, www.imagesthroughtime.com, for the photos.]