I had an ‘ah ha’ moment when watching ‘Dancing with the Stars’ last night – I was finally able to place one of the professional dancers. Searching the show’s website, I learned his name and used this to search the cast from the stage production of Strictly Ballroom. He was indeed the same special man who’d enchanted Poppet earlier this year, when we went to the theatre. I would have recognised him earlier had he worn the same crazy, over-the-top make-up needed for a theatre production of Strictly Ballroom.
Poppet, my close friend and Poppet’s ‘Aunty Kylie’ and I attended the show held at Her Majesty’s Theatre and had a great time. The grand old building had become a glitzy, gaudy semblance of a dance studio cum dance sport ballroom and the story was true to the movie. However, there was one significant difference: at the end, the cast invited some of the audience to come up on stage and dance.
When the request came over the house speaker, I asked Poppet if she’d like to go up on stage. She gave me an emphatic, ‘yes please’, so I suggested she go up with Aunty Kylie. Usually I’m the one who helps Poppet participate, but this time I was grateful for my friend who unhesitatingly grabbed Poppet’s hand and led her down the aisle. I was lucky enough to sit back and watch, and what I saw was just wonderful.
At the stage, a cast member greeted them and assisted Poppet up the stairs. Poppet still has difficulty balancing, (attributed to Down syndrome), but gingerly made her way up on to the stage, closely followed by Kylie to join the twenty or so cast members and members of the public. The music continued with everyone on a high, dancing delightedly.
The cast greeted her with such warmth and genuine delight and took turns dancing with her; somehow she ended up centre stage, right at the front. I could see people in the audience stopping to watch her. Her delight was infectious.
These are the times, I must admit, when I waver agonisingly between pride and nervousness; I worry that she will behave erratically, as she is want to do, which makes people wary. However, this time I shouldn’t have worried, for I know my daughter loves to perform.
Poppet loves acting and dancing and singing. She loves all music and particularly enjoys pop songs, although she has difficulty keeping up with them for they are typically too fast for her to sing. I suspect this is why she also loves ballads, for those songs are slower; she easily keeps up with the lyrics.
If you were to ask her, she’d tell you that drama is her favourite subject at secondary school. Last year, her final year of primary school, she was elected ‘Performing Arts Leader’. To signify her leadership role, she was presented with a shiny red and gold lapel badge to wear with her uniform and wore it with great pride. That role saw Poppet speaking in public and assisting in jobs associated with performing arts, all of which she apparently achieved successfully.
As I sat and watched Poppet on stage at Her Majesty’s, I was touched and so very proud. Aunty Kylie was shaking her booty, keeping an eye out for Poppet. She surprised not just us, but those of the cast that came to dance with her. Poppet brought out all the dance moves she’d learned for her annual school productions; it looked as if she had rehearsed for this moment. I’m sure her performing arts teacher of the previous four years would have been satisfied knowing that all her patient determination to help Poppet succeed, endured. (I wrote about this in my post, http://downswithups.com/category/katy-perry/).
At the time the music stopped, Poppet had been dancing with the ‘man in the pineapple suit’, who I came to know as ‘Jarryd Byrne’, after watching ‘Dancing with the Stars’. She’d been swept away with the music, the freedom of dancing and the excitement of being accompanied by this wonderful man. The people sitting around us stayed to watch her. They eagerly waited with me for her to come down off the stage and hear her talk about her experience.
Jarryd helped Poppet down the stairs with Aunty Kylie close behind. The people sitting behind me urged me to take photos, but I feared the wrath of theatre attendants. The show almost over, I had my last chance to do so. I looked to Jarryd, asking him in mime, if he’d be okay if I took a photo. He nodded enthusiastically.
I’ve since learned that Jarryd has been a dance teacher, which makes sense given his ability to click so easily with Poppet. I’m incredibly grateful to this young man who had helped create a special memory for Poppet. She still talks about it, so do I. It’s not often I get to see my daughter, centre stage, surrounded by the cast of a dance production, the epitome of Poppet’s passions.
