Ever since season 1 when Nick beat out Melody for the title of “America’s Favorite Dancer”, I have been hooked on So You Think You Can Dance (SYTYCD for short). BTW- I wonder what ever happened to Nick? Or Sabra? Not to mention all those runners-up that have come and gone? Anyway, I digress. This is one of the few TV shows (and probably the only reality show since “The Mole”- but only when Anderson Cooper was the host. Celebrity Mole was awful!!) that I watch faithfully and without fail, from the auditions until the mountain of confetti is unleashed upon that season’s winner. I have even gone to the live SYTYCD stage show a couple of times. All the way to Greensboro! In the middle of the week! You know I must love it if I am willing to forego sleep and brave the wilds of the Triad to be there!
The thing is, I can’t really say what it is about this show that I find so very compelling. Of course the dancing is sublime and oh so technically challenging, the choreography is beguiling, innovative and cutting edge, the judges (or “jedges” as the charming and beautiful Cat Deeley pronounces it in her lovely British accent) are, in turn, eccentric, poetic, emotional, and LOUD, and the costumes, production values, song choice, and set design are all top-notch. But I think what draws me in time and again is the dancers and their sheer love of the dance. This passion and dedication radiates from each dancer’s very core and permeates every aspect of the show. It isn’t something that can be faked or manufactured – or at least not for very long. The contestants who don’t live, breathe, eat and sleep the dance are quickly left in the dust (or spangles or feathers) of the rest of the cast.
If I could have one wish (other than world peace and an end to hunger, poverty and global warming) it would be to be able to be one of these dancers just for one dance. To feel the power of a young, able, conditioned, trained body, the joy of being able to live my passion and my dreams, to share my love and gifts with others in such a compelling and global way, to have such gifted choreographers composing pieces for me! Little old me!!, to receive the constructive criticism of knowledgeable experts and put it to use to better myself, and to be vulnerable to the world judging me and actually voting on how well I did under such tremendous pressure - and handling this judgment with grace and aplomb— would be wonderful, scary, exhilarating and perhaps even life-changing.
But since that is never going to happen (at least not unless there really are Freaky Fridays!), the most I can hope for is to learn a vicarious lesson from this show: you don’t have to be the very best technical or trained dancer in order to be America’s Favorite Dancer. But you do have to have heart, soul, commitment, tenacity, passion and the ability learn from your failures in order to be the best that you can be. So while the odds are that none of us will ever be America’s Favorite, we can all at least be our own favorite dancer if we are willing to model our efforts on the young kids involved in this show. Then we will all truly be winners.
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