Whether you dance for yourself, by yourself, on a team, as a career, with your friends, at a studio…this one is for you.

Ever since I was 3, dance has played a role in my life -- sometimes, that role was minor, most of the time, it was not - but looking back, I realize that through it all, I’ve identified myself, before just about anything else, as a dancer. It’s come to feel so inherently easy and truthful, something so synonymous with who I consider myself to be, that I sometimes forget that upon meeting people for the first time, they probably don’t know that about me.

What does it mean to be a dancer, though? Truth be told, it’s a much more complex identity than most people would guess. If you tell me you’re a soccer player, for example, I may not be able to understand the techniques and strategy behind your footwork and plays or the dynamics of your team, but I have a general notion of what it is you do. I can’t speak to what the general population’s notion of a dancer is, but through experience I’d say people conjure up images of anything from a ballerina to a Rockette to one of the girls on Dance Moms… I could go on.

And the beauty of dance is that it can mean so many different things to different people, because dancing comes in many forms. I’d like to take some time to celebrate the versatility of this beautiful, yet sometimes misunderstood, art form.

In its early stages, dance can feel like it is largely about memorization. When you’re really young, you go to class, jump around and learn some moves, and you don’t really know what’s going on, but somehow you have a blast. If you stick with it long enough, you come to realize that while dance often involves a lot of technique and imitation -- striving for *thismuch* extra turnout in ballet class or trying over and over and over to execute a combination in the way the choreographer wants it -- dance also offers a chance to either express yourself or release pent-up emotion.

Through improv, you can dance as you please, determining what a song or a concept means to you as you go along. This is one of my favorite ways, when I’m alone and need to pause from thinking about school, to reset my mind and for a few minutes get truly in tune with how I’m feeling: tense? excited? impatient? hopeful? confused? At the same time, dancing alone often confers this state of calmness: you can go to a place where you don’t think about anything particularly, and that is also a refreshing way to enjoy music. You might find yourself returning to whatever else it is you do with a wider perspective.

On the other hand, discipled training in dance also has its merits. While I am wary of approaches that place too much emphasis on conformity and appearance, there is a lot to be said about the work ethic of a dancer who trains rigorously, particularly in ballet; the results of this dedication and commitment are breathtaking to witness, and they’re ten times more gratifying to personally experience.

Currently, though, the significance dance holds for me is through my role as a Stanford Dollie: one of 5 girls who dances along with the truly incomparable Leland Stanford Junior University Marching Band, at athletic events as well as at events such as fundraisers and festivals in the Bay Area. Being a Dollie lasts only 1 year, and then we will help to choose 5 new “babies,” to whom we’ll pass down some of our dances. The other Dollies and I have learned nearly 40 dances by now, and we’ll also be choreographing dances of our own soon.

One of the many incredible things that being a Dollie means to me is the opportunity we have to represent Stanford while having such a good time. While the style of dance we do as Dollies is not necessarily similar to what we all were used to doing competitively before coming here, it is without a doubt the perfect way to capture and express the culture of the band and, more generally, that of the entire Stanford community. So right now, dance to me is an activity shared with some of my best friends, as well as an outlet for my love of all things Stanford-related. Showing up to dance at charity benefit in San Francisco, for example, I walk in feeling blessed that I get to be a part of such an energetic and fun-loving group and in turn, leave those for whom we perform happier. We spend a lot of time with the same people, doing the same dances, but each and every time it feels special and memorable.

All in all, whether you dance to entertain others, feel a sense of freedom, express yourself or simply to have a good time (or maybe, a combination of all these concepts), I want you to know that you’re onto something. Dance will be there for you no matter what, and there will always be something more you can get out of it, no matter which level you believe you’re at. Dance evolves with time, which is another part about it that’s unique -- there aren’t really any rules. So, for all the dancers out there, here’s to you. May you only continue to build upon the role dance occupies in your life. Learn, grow, adapt, expand, improve… but please don’t change.