The chances of me sitting still in class are about the same as finding a four-leaf clover in a desert. More often than not, you’ll find me tapping away at the floor in my brown Dr. Martens while pretending to pay attention to the teacher. I tap when I’m bored, I tap when I’m excited, I tap while going through the aisles at Vons, and I tap every Thursday from 8:15–9:15p.m.
Just last Christmas Eve, my tia Mayra gifted me a pair of black tap shoes. I immediately put them on and started tapping around (probably scratching my tia Ana’s floors). I was prepared with the basic steps I learned from following along to 0.5-speed YouTube videos that I watched in the costume shop with Ms. Hawk. Despite only knowing how to flap, shuffle, and toe-heel, the addition of tap shoes made me feel unstoppable.
Later that week, I signed up for an adult tap class at a dance studio near my house. For months I had begged my mom for lessons, and my wish was finally coming true, but the idea of trying something new began making me nervous. Most people my age who dance or do something similar have been doing it for most of their lives. Being a beginner at 15 felt awkward, and it didn’t help that I was too old for most of the beginner classes I found during my search for a dance studio.
Sometimes, it feels like everything I do has to have a purpose deeper than “I just want to try it.” If I’m putting my time into something, shouldn’t I be on track to be the best at it? Or shouldn’t it at least be something worth putting on a resume? When I was in elementary school, I was trying a different activity every month, and it didn’t matter that only two or three of them stuck with me. However, somewhere around middle school, my yearning for learning began to fade away as the longing for a deeper purpose began making me hesitant to try new things. I stopped doing things that I enjoyed but was not very good at, like running for class cabinet and playing the cello. As a high schooler, it feels too late to start something new; if I want to be good at something I should have at least started by the age of ten.
Of course, learning tap wasn’t completely purposeless—I got to show off my skills in Westridge’s 2024 production of The SpongeBob Musical, but it was also just something that I thought looked so cool. Fortunately, this hope to learn overpowered my fears, and on January 4, 2024, I put my black tap shoes and a water bottle into a little fuzzy backpack for my first day of tap class.
When I arrived, I was immediately surprised by my classmates. I knew I signed up for the adult class, but I assumed it would be mostly college students. However, the class was mostly senior and middle-aged women. I was even more surprised when the class started because I was having trouble keeping up with them. I thought the beginning class would have more beginners! However, my teacher was super kind to me and worked with me at my pace. After class, some of the ladies came up to me and complimented my youth and my pink hair and how good I was for it being my first time. Though they were strangers, I felt completely supported and knew I would be going back for more.
Now, every Thursday at 8:15 p.m., I drive down to the Claremont Village to tap dance with a group of women double, triple, or even quadruple my age. Despite our age differences, I’ve made connections with many of my classmates. One of my tap friends, Kelly, and I have matching iridescent tap shoes. When she first brought her pair to class she said, “I’m a copycat,” and I responded, “No, we’re twins!”
Every time I return to class, I see how each of my classmates has improved, no matter when they started. I love watching them almost as much as I love tapping myself. Their silly dances before we start our combinations make me smile because they remind me that if I’m enjoying myself, I shouldn’t care about how others see me. The “oopsie daisy” face they make when they miss a shuffle reminds me that it’s okay to make mistakes, and I don’t have to be perfect at everything that I try. When I see my classmates showing up to class each week, despite their busy work and family lives, I’m reminded that trying new things doesn’t have an age limit, and though starting something new at 16 seems daunting, I’m still fairly young. I have a long life of new beginnings waiting for me, at every age.
A few weeks ago, my family was put on evacuation warning due to the Bridge Fire rampaging through Southern California. I had to pack two or three bags worth of belongings in the case of an evacuation. Along with my school supplies and many American Girl Dolls, I found myself packing my tap shoes. Even though I’m still very much a beginner, going to tap class every Thursday has become a highlight of my week, and tap has become one of my passions. I still find it scary to try new things, but tap has taught me that getting past those fears is so rewarding. In the past few months, I’ve started volunteering with dogs, sewing doll clothes, and taking singing lessons—activities that I now find so much joy in but was hesitant to start. Tap has rekindled my love of trying new things.