The lessons and legacy of my time working at Luna Dance Institute have been formative in my life as a professional and as a mother. I began working as an intern with Luna in 2003, became an employee into 2004. I worked as a development associate, and dance teaching artist for special needs preschool and elementary school classrooms as well as in the MPACT program. Luna’s mission of bringing creativity, equality and community to every child through dance aligns so deeply with my own professional and personal goals that each role I held for Luna allowed me to become more fully myself. In particular one aspect of my work for Luna which I valued enormously was the way the structure of the organization embraced each employee as a multifaceted individual who could simultaneously hold multiple roles. At Luna, everyone was an artist valued for their creative input, an administrator or coordinator valued for their intellectual and organization contributions, a teacher valued for what we had to give to others, a student valued for what we could learn, and a member of a community valued for how we worked together. I felt uniquely embraced in my working life as whole person; body, mind and spirit.

Now as a self-employed mother of three, I refuse to give up on that holistic integrity to what is possible in my life and career.

I have gone on to become a registered Dance Movement Therapist and currently work individually with young children experience developmental delay, autism, ADHD, anxiety, attachment difficulty and early trauma. I also continue to teach attachment focused parent-child dance classes, which my own children, ages 6, 4 and 2, have all attended with me. I teach a dance program for people with Parkinson’s disease and I teach dance in special needs preschool classroom. Through my multiple roles and contexts, I carry the lessons and memories from my work at Luna. I am deeply grateful for the mentorship I received from Nancy and Patricia as well as for how my experiences working at Luna shaped who I am today as a parent, teacher, and therapist.

In my 25 years at Luna, a surprising aspect of our work has been to witness how dance often provides continuity. For some families, dance class is one of the most consistent things in their lives. We might see a child dancing with a foster parent in MPACT classes at one library. The next year, we see that same child at a residential center with her biological mother. Later, we find her again in second grade dance class at the public elementary school. This happens again and again.

One of my favorite continuity success stories is about the Love* family. We first saw the Loves in 2009. I was observing and video-taping an MPACT class at the West Oakland Library as part of a research study. That class happened to be larger than usual, perhaps a group of 21 adults and children were moving through the space. I noticed one mother dancing with a girl about 6 years old. After a few moments, she took the girl out of the room and then returned with a younger girl, about 3. This continued throughout the class. Afterward, I met up with the mother and her social worker in the lobby. Before I could ask her about the repeated ins and outs, she blurted out that she was totally overwhelmed, that the older child had autism and from the moment the little sister was born she was extremely jealous. The mother was a wreck trying to hide the love of the little one from the big sister because she was afraid she would hurt her. She felt guilty about not being able to give to the little one, but she was so afraid. The social worker also told us that this was the last time she would be accompanying the mother to the class—from now on, she was on her own. I encouraged her to return and set to work with my co-workers about how we could support her dancing with both girls at the same time.

The mother’s dedication was profound—she attended every class of the 8-week session with both daughters. On the last day, she said that she felt sick and wanted to sit out. The older daughter piped up, “I will be the mother in this dance class!”and led her younger sister joyfully through all the activities.

The Love family followed us from library to library. Eventually, the older daughter was given a scholarship to our afterschool studio program. Her mother brought her on-time, religiously, along with the younger sister who watched. One day, as I was observing class, the younger sister told me, “I’m going to be a dancer just like my big sister!” And dancer she was! Eventually, we had to find funds for both girls to attend. The little one had the dance bug—she was inventive, engaged, and engaging to watch.

After a few years, they moved to a suburb about 40 minutes from us and the mother continued to bring them both weekly until she found a job that did not allow the time. Last year, I learned that both Love girls came back and this time they danced together in the 7-11 year old Modern Dance Class! The experience of Ms. Love and her daughters humbled me—once she saw a bond possible, she committed herself to strengthening the connection between the sisters. The dedication it took to provide opportunities for her children to express themselves through dance required a great deal of commitment, trust, and perseverance (not to mention driving!) I will never forget this amazing family.

*pseudonym

Photo: Matt Haber

Micaela is a bright first-grader at International Community School in East Oakland with dark curly hair tied in a high side ponytail decorated with a colorful ribbon. When I first met her in the Fall, she had a difficult time interacting in the dance class. She would stand still, off to the side while other students danced through the room. Her teachers’ told me that they had recommended an IEP, Individualized Educational Program, to help her get the support they imagined she needed.

In the following weeks, Micaela started to stand by me during dance class and narrated everything she saw her classmates doing. She pointed to a colorful rug on the floor with the alphabet and pictures of animals. The students slithered on their bellies; she ran and pointed to a picture of a snake next to the letter S. She excitedly said, “They are slithering like snakes!” When we worked on shapes, she looked around at the whole room of dancers holding their still shapes, and said, “They are frozen like ice statues.” I asked students to melt down to the low level and she whispered, “…like the ice melting on a hot day.”

After about 3 weeks of observing, Micaela started dancing. She seemed to take my indication very seriously, “find the empty space.” I saw her jogging around her classmates’ bodies in the middle level, her arms carving out the empty space in front of her. She also began proudly inventing her own shapes, repeatedly holding a shape balancing on one leg, with her arms straight over her head, and her leg at a 90 degree angle in front of her. She held that shape for a long time and said, “Amelia! Do you see me?”

While looking for extracurricular activities four years ago for my now 11-year old daughter Renee, I happily discovered Luna Dance Institute. Over the years we have found the Luna experience to be one of the most positive for choreographed movement for children and youth in the Bay Area. Young dancers are allowed to explore space and movement with guided instruction utilizing planned curriculum – something we had not experienced in other dance classes.

Since attending classes at Luna, I have observed that my daughter (as well as others too) has become more aware of her body in space. She has also been complimented many times for her poise and self-awareness. At Luna, independent choreography and team choreographed moves are encouraged, which seems to inspire the young dancers to develop higher levels of self-confidence and a team attitude. Luna’s programs are rich in communal spirit with the direct involvement of a most experienced and caring staff each well versed in their craft.

I am especially taken with the freedom that she was empowered with to create and dance.

We keep coming back to Luna because we love it!

I am in a third grade classroom. Students are making shapes and applying energy. Kevin shouts,

“Look, I can do it standing on my head!”

I stare at him in awe, envious of his balance and strong upper body, and extremely happy because prior to class, Kevin’s teacher came to me with some concerns. He feels Kevin has too much energy, and is unable to control himself in dance class. He informs me that in previous years he was unable to participate. I told him we would give it a try, because kids with “too much energy” tend to be great dance students, and I knew if Kevin could stand on his head while applying smooth and sharp energy, then he could focus.

Flashback to before becoming Kevin’s dance teacher, I often saw him sulking in the school office. It was obvious he had been labeled as a problem kid. After speaking with his teacher and witnessing his talents, I made it a point to make sure Kevin had his dance time, and dance he did!

Through third, fourth, and fifth grade I was delighted to be Kevin’s dance instructor. Each year he became more confident, helpful to other students, and a more sophisticated dance-maker. I’ll never forget when he volunteered to explain his dance in front of a grant funder. For his 5th grade dance he led his group in choreography, directing when to start the canon, and placed himself front and center.

Kevin excelled in dance, and his other subjects, dancing at his graduation. Dance was part of Kevin’s success!

Some things are easier to describe than others. At Luna, we engage in observation and reflection as daily practice. We charge ourselves to see what actually happens in a dance class, trying to separate out assumptions, judgement and interpretation in order to witness creativity, relationship, and growth, but, sometimes this is difficult; our MPACT (Moving Parents And Children Together) dance classes often happen at residential addiction recovery centers, where mothers are simultaneously learning tools to maintain independent, substance-free lives and to reconnect as they regain custody of their children. There is a lot to observe in these classes. During our opening circle we often see mothers and children participating together, moms tickling their kids to the tune of hickory dickory dock and rocking and rolling with their little ones as they exuberantly sing humpty dumpty. For some families this oneness of mother-child continues throughout the 60-minute class, but, for others, the strain of separation and loss shows through.

When we first met Mary and her child, we observed more separateness than togetherness in their interactions. Mary’s child did not want to sit on mom’s lap and usually danced away from her, toward other children and other mothers, or danced alone, not relating to anyone in class. Mary sometimes engaged her child, usually by giving instructions to listen to the teacher and behave. They rarely danced together and by the end of the six-week session were still two soloists, even when dancing as a duet.

When we returned some months later to start the new session we noticed the shift almost immediately. Mary’s child sat in her lap, smiling and singing nursery rhymes with her. Later in class as parents and children were dancing away from each other then back toward each other, Mary’s child galloped, jumped and turned across the room from her, then returned each time to receive a hug, high five, or “Good job!” from her. As the session progressed we witnessed the two of them making shapes, dancing over, under, around and through each other, giggling, grinning and inventing new ways of playing together through dance. At the end of each class, we as teachers reflected that both mom and child had moments of dancing as creative, expressive individuals and as a happily bonded pair. Through this transformation Mary also emerged as a leader: she confidently led sections of the warm-up and was a role model for how to connect with one’s child through dance.

While dance class is only one component of a busy week at residential centers, it’s a special time for moms and their children to be creative and play together. It was through this lens that we had the privilege of witnessing the remarkable relationship catharsis of Mary and her child.

At that moment, it was clear to me that Luna Dance had been a constant thread in this family’s life.