To every little boy who is forced to take ballet

Friday, 12 December 2003

I weep with you, my little brothers. Your pain is my name.

It just doesn’t matter, does it, that Baryshnikov had Jessica Lange in her breeding prime and scored like Wilt Chamberlain. At 10 years of age this fact is irrelevant. They will make you wear tights in front of an audience. The girl you like who has no interest in ballet will be there. She will see. A group of 13 year-olds, unconcerned with the inequity of prejudicial gender roles, will make you walk home the long way because they know.

I can save you.

Sneak out. Take karate and savate and ninjutsu and use your Christmas money to order the cocobolo nunchucks with a chain and ball-bearings. Ditch chess club to break fluorescent light bulbs behind the Wal*Mart. Catch a squirrel and let it loose at the Shakey’s during your next post-game pizza party. Learn to swear in Korean, Spanish, and Chinese. Practice your parents’ signatures for the day when excuse slips will be at a premium. Start a free range ant farm in your favorite aunt’s basement. Mix the Extra-Hot with the Mild picante in the refrigerator and ask your mom if you can have tacos for dinner the night the PTA is coming over.

And remember: When you are grown and moved far from the little community that punished you for even knowing what a leotard is, no one will remember. No one will know, even if your Grandmother is a ballet teacher to the very day. They won’t even suspect.

1 comment · Commenting is closed
digg stumbleupon reddit Fark Technorati Faves




Re: To every little boy who is forced to take ballet

Now you tell me. Where were you when I was squeezing my little ass into tights and being seen that way by audiences?

Oh well. Too late, but you're essentially correct.

By JamesT on 8 April 2009 · 18:32