Dancing in the Rain

"When you dance in the rain, you will see the rain drops dancing with you."

I have a confession to make. I was a dancer, but never understood the pervasive role of dancing in my life. My dances only appeared in studios, on the stage in the spotlight, or at parties.

After the first year of high school, my path towards professional dancing ended. My mom didn’t think dance was my future, and was concerned about my academics. As I grieved while I packed my ragged pointe shoes and my years of accumulated tutus and leotards, I saw a volunteer opportunity on my school notice board. This was a dance program designed for children with special needs. There, I met Kylie.

Kylie was a fourteen year old girl with Down syndrome. She had no interest in communicating with anybody and could not follow any activities. To allow the teacher to work with the other children peacefully, I proposed to work with Kylie alone. Later, I learned that her mom had ovarian cancer. Every moment of separation between her and her mom evoked paralyzing worry in Kylie.

On the following Monday, Kylie and I found our corner in the back of the room.

I looked her in her eyes and asked, “Would you like to dance with me? Dancing is fun and happy. It may make your mom happy too. What’s your favorite song?”

…

As Frozen’s “Let It Go” blared from my phone, I wildly twirled before Kylie. I motioned for her to join. But she remained sullen. Then I tried to pull her in with the invisible lasso. She didn’t understand. Finally, I took her hand and pulled her into my dance. Almost immediately, Kylie became a maniac on the dance floor. For every week that followed, we went through the same routine. Kylie is inconsolable. I played songs from Frozen. I danced. She danced. When recital day came, our studio was filled with friends and family. Kylie and I stepped onto the dance floor and our song played. Our routine was simple and silly, and Kylie was always a few counts behind. Yet, when we struck our final poses, Kylie’s mother began to cry. She had never seen her daughter dance before.

This experience left me with a tremendous feeling. We danced. We laughed. It was wonderful. I may never be a dance star, and Kylie and her mom still have obstacles to overcome, but we have our dance, and we laugh when we dance.

A year has passed by. Still joyful from my experience with Kylie, I decided to create this website. I hope that people, especially teenagers like myself, learn to take care of their bodies and to go out to help people. No matter the circumstances, when you go out to help some part of the world, you will feel true happiness.

This website is dedicated to my friend -Kylie Ramirez.