I was so sure Kamal would love this. I was all ready to record video of him gleefully leaping around between a barre and a mirrored wall, surrounded by other, equally gleeful small dancers. I couldn't wait to post the video here, on Facebook, everywhere. I picked out his clothes--a black long-sleeved onesie and soft, charcoal-grey knit jersey pants, basically what I imagine a ballet dancer who's not trying too hard would wear to rehearsal--days in advance. I was stoked.
Instead, Kamal stayed in my lap for the entire class. Which is fine, of course--I'm not going to push a two-year-old into a situation he doesn't feel ready for, obviously. I'm about as far from a Tiger Mother as you can get and still be Asian. But I still wanted, so badly, to document this first ballet class (because, come on, what if he becomes a famous dancer and the people doing his writeup in the New Yorker call me and say, Hey, Mother of a Famous Dancer, where did it all begin? Or something like that. Um, not that I care as long as he's happy) and so I took these photos, of Kamal's reacting to, if not participating in, his very first ballet class.
Here they are.