All She Wants To Do Is Dance

March 6, 2026

My tiny dancer looks so tall on stage. I shouldn’t be surprised, I’ve noticed this ever since her first recital. I sat on the edge of my seat, trying to get a few inches closer to see this beautiful girl dance. Wave after wave of small humans twirled, pirouetted, and chasséd their way across the stage. They looked so graceful. Smooth movements with flowing arms from students in every grade. After the show, when approaching the stage with the stampede of other happy parents, it all looked so different. These were just kids, short and thin. But on stage, they were as big as life.

We just attended our third year of dance competition in Idaho. Now an annual tradition, we couldn’t wait. We savored the drive, the check-in, and the multiple greetings with other families as we walked the hotel hallways. That first year, it was all so fast and loud and confusing. We didn’t quite know what was happening. Of course it had to be raining and freezing out as we ran from the car to the auditorium. Normal stress wasn’t enough on that day, we needed all senses exploding. Entering the building with hundreds of other families was like combining the crowd inside a sports stadium with the nervous anticipation of a job interview.

Like all wild experiences, the intensity dissipates the more times you repeat. By the time we pulled up this year, we weren’t even nervous. My daughter was just excited. She had upped her game with more preparation, more practice, and another year of development. Without our nudging, she had even set goals for herself. Don’t you love it when kids do something healthy without your prompting?

Sitting next to my wife, watching our daughter dance might be one of the most special things in my life. Although it is only a few short minutes, as a parent you can feel all the preparation within the performance. It’s like eating a home-cooked meal versus fast food. No, it isn’t restaurant quality, but the fact that you just washed, chopped, seasoned, and baked this dish gives you an entirely different kind of experience. You appreciate it more. Your taste buds have more grace for strange flavors and textures. Now imagine you prepared a meal for twelve months. That’s some good eating!

My daughter’s solo was on day one, which took most of the stress off of the group numbers the following day. Of course she took those very seriously as well, but it’s a different feeling to stand alone on a huge stage in front of hundreds of people as an 11 year old. As the judges handed out their combined scoring at the end of the day, I felt that punch in the stomach as my daughter missed her goal by an inch. I was proud of her reaction on stage, classy and composed. A few minutes later as she walked to our seats, I could feel it coming. She crawled in my lap, and with the small privacy of her face in my shoulder, she let a few tears fall.

How can I describe such a profound moment? Pride in her caring so much. Frustration at judges with the audacity to give my daughter such a score. Contentment in the huddled human tent of my wife, daughter and me together with arms locked around each other. Love. Pure love. In the end, the score didn’t matter. Only us as a family mattered. Years from now, when I reflect on my life, I know that memory will still be permanently seared in my heart.

We give my daughter the option to choose her own extracurricular activities. A few years ago, she went all in on dance. I don’t know if she will dance forever. She might veer off in a new direction next week. The point of giving your kids these experiences isn’t that they become a professional. It’s about exposure to joys, challenges, and undertakings that make them a fuller person. And what do you know, us parents aren’t just standing on the sidelines - we are getting something out of this too.