Dance Show (RTV)

In my show,
the spotlights are always focused wherever I go on stage. In my stage, I
move alone and I stand with my own shoes.
In my shoes, there is me – the very person I’m most anxious to know.

Who
would’ve imagined that this boy, who was once – or should I say always – looked
up to by his audience, is also a failure?

Twelve
years ago, one of the best dreams I had was introduced to me.

As a
child, I love to explore things, things which I don’t know if I have in me or
not. Looking back, I was first introduced to singing. I was a part of our
village children’s choir where we got to sing on masses every Sundays and on
special occasions. I then thought singing would be my life, my show. But not since in Grade 1, that was
November 1994, that I knew I have more talents to explore. It was for our
school’s foundation week, and that was a presentation for our section’s field
demonstration. We were asked to do Lambada,
and yes! Lambada was my first dance!
I remember the feeling of wearing red shorts and red and white polka-dot polo,
and swaying my hips to the tune of the music, my goodness! Was I that good? Was
I really a better dancer, than a choir member? That was answered on my
succeeding student years. Ever since I grooved to the Lambada, I was always asked to be on dance numbers whenever there
are occasions to celebrate at school. If I’m not mistaken, I’ve already danced
to the beat of Lambada, to Lick It, to Twist It, to Oh! Carol,
to Dr. Jones, to Everybody (Backstreet’s Back), to The Venga Bus, to (You Drive
Me) Crazy, to Space Cowboys, to Larusso, to Oops! I Did It Again, to Stronger,
to Pop, to I’m A Slave 4 U, to Like I
Love You, to Get Busy, to I’m Good, to Bump, Bump, Bump, to Take It
To The Floor, to Chocolate, to Pinoy Ako and all the way up to Nothing In This World and SOS (Rescue Me). In my 13 years of
student con dancer career, those were just 22 songs which I remember I’ve
danced to, not to mention cotillions, proms, and other dance numbers which I
can’t remember now. Imagine, I could’ve put up a dance album with all of those!
My show has been thru a lot already,
and I’m proud to say that I enjoyed it. And I never imagined that I would get
tired of doing my show, until…

Three
semesters ago, the worst of my worst nightmares came to picture.

It
was the start of my first semester as a sophomore, and it was a blast! The one
who welcomed me to it was not my classroom, nor my books, but the stage. No, it was not my stage at all. I remember those days
wherein I go to school not for lessons, but for dance rehearsals. Dancing for
me is not just a mere talent, but an art, an expression of oneself – I so love
dancing! The date was June 19, 2005, where I got the chance to conquer that stage. I thought that would be a great launch
for a new year in college, but I was wrong. After I conquered that stage, the next minutes, hours, days,
and weeks that passed determined the nightmare I was about to face that time. Tardiness
struck the whole me, I’ve had a series of absences, late comings, and stolen
dreamy moments during class hours. And so, though in the littlest percent I did
not imagine it would be happening, I received a grade of 5.0! Yes, the lowest
grade – if you call it a grade – the university could ever give to its
scholars, which symbolizes dumbness, weakness, and failure. That 5.0 was given
to me by my Economics professor, who told me that I wasn’t able to survive her
standards and methods in teaching. The sum up of my grade, according to her own computations, was 74% which only
needs one more percent to pass a certain subject. I was devastated! I did
everything I can, but what’s done is done. I never blamed dancing before since I
knew I have that talent, but it was changed. I guess the stage really never became mine that time.

When
that happened, I thought it was the end of my show… that it would be the time that I should step down on my stage.

But
I never did.

Instead
of stepping down my stage, what I did
was I continued playing the music, followed the spotlights, and continued
dancing – I did not stop my show.

I
came to realize that as long as I put on my dancing shoes, I could still continue what I love to do. That if I know how
to get up even from the messiest thing I’ve done, I’ll manage to survive and go
on with what I have and what I’ve become in life. And that the most important
thing is I’ve learned. After that devastating semester, I regained myself from
the humiliation and redeemed my old self to patch up what has been missing with
my life lately. I became, for the very first time in my college life, a part of
the dean’s lists for two consecutive semesters. My grades also poured in, in
higher numbers! Not to mention my first 1.0 in a subject. I did not dare myself
on getting rid of my dancing shoes,
and now here I am, enjoying what I love to do, not only in academics, but on
self-fulfillment as well. I’m glad I did not change my tactics; I still stick
to having dancing shoes with a good
fit.

My
learning I guess won’t end here, too. After all, I still have a long way to go,
and a bigger stage to perform unto.
Though it’s already a cliché, I’m proud to say that I know how to dance according to life’s many tunes, not only
literally.

In
my life’s show, the spotlights are
still focused on me wherever I go on stage.
In my life’s stage, I still move
according to my own will with my own shoes.
And in my life, my shoes, there is
still me – the very person I’m still most
anxious to know more.