Our stories may be different, but it is our love for Irish dance that keeps us going.
Bridgid:
When people find out that I’m an Irish dancer, responses such as “is that like Riverdance?” or “so are you part of Lord of the Dance?” are very common. I’ve also been asked if I know any leprechauns, but that was more of a one-time thing. While many people have been exposed to the theatrical side of Irish dancing, not many people know about the competitive side.
Curly wigs. Tanned legs. Sparkly dresses. Fake lashes. Over-the-top stage makeup. No, I’m not describing a scene from the hit TLC show Toddlers and Tiaras, but rather ordinary attributes to an Irish dance competition, called a fèi sat the local level and an oireachtas at the regional level. The competitive world of Irish dance has recently been glorified in the 2011 documentary Jig. The film chronicles several dancers from around the world and their perseverance and endurance leading up to and in the 40th annual Irish Dance World Championship in Glasgow, Scotland.
Personally, I’ve never been anywhere close to “Worlds,” as they are affectionately called. My parents enrolled me in ballet and tap classes at the age of two, and I was able to add jazz, modern, and gymnastics to my dance repertoire before the age of six. It was at the age of seven that I finally made the switch to Irish dance, and I haven’t looked back since. However, I was never really in it for the competitions, especially since they have become increasingly more superficial. I was drawn to the structured steps and the precision that is needed to do what seems like endless cuts, shuffles, tips, and jumps. As a girl who’s been on crutches twice in her three-year career at BC and is infamous for falling into (yes, into…) puddles, it seems like the only way to express my usually hidden grace and elegance.
Nevertheless, participating in the competitive world of Irish dance is what is expected, and I competed until my sophomore year of high school. In front of a panel of judges, dancing on a stage, two at a time, to the endless tune of the accordion and fiddle became characteristic of most of my Sundays.
Come junior and senior year, things became hectic with school, other extracurricular activities, and applying to colleges, and I stopped competing. However, I kept taking lessons for the love of it. It was not until I stopped competing that I really learned to appreciate the artistry and beauty of Irish dance and how different it is from so many other dance forms.
I’ve dealt with teachers yelling at me to make sure I cross my feet and kick my butt, and I’ve learned what it feels like to dance on a sprained ankle and broken toe. I’ve had pedicurists tell me I need to take better care of my calloused feet (usually before I almost kick them in the face because my feet are so ticklish). I’ve practiced for hours on end in my kitchen trying to perfect a step, while also being weary of not scratching up the hardwood floors too badly. I’ve learned to accept that most boots don’t quite fit over my extremely muscular calves. I’ve gone through days upon days of drills and practices. I’ve had my parents tell me I should stop dancing because of how many injuries I have sustained, but for some reason, I can’t.
Coming to BC, I was unaware that there was an Irish dance club, but I could not be more grateful that there is. The girls (and boy) of Boston College Irish Dance have become my family and I so look forward to our practices every week. BCID, which is a relatively new club on campus, performs one large show a year in Robsham Theatre. The show is all student-choreographed and is a mixture of the contemporary as well as the traditional.
This year, BCID is performing for the first time in the club’s history at the ALC Showdown as well as in several St. Patrick’s Day shows and our annual show in April. I have grown so close to all of the members of the team, and the smile that is always on my face comes a lot from the great experience BCID has given me and the ability to continue Irish dance at the college level. Although I may not have the best technique or nail every spin in an effortless fashion, it’s a great feeling to do a type of dance that I love, and doing it with people I care so much about makes it that much more fun.
Cailtin:
It’s February, which means there are only two more months until the 2012 World Championships in Belfast, Northern Ireland. For hundreds of dancers around the world, this competition is what it is all about.
The sacrifices, the blood, sweat, and tears are all for those couple of minutes spent on stage, competing against the best for a medal. We spend months preparing in classes, practicing on our own, eating healthy, cross training, and visualizing. During the months leading up to the Worlds, we eat, sleep, breathe, and live Irish dance. In spite of everything that we give up, it is my favorite time of the year.
I have been dancing since I was three years old, and it has become such a huge part of my life that I can’t even begin to imagine who I would be without it. Ever since I can remember, Irish dance has completely consumed my life. Between the classes, workshops, practicing on my own, cross training, traveling, and competing, I can’t even think of a time when it didn’t affect me in some way.
Competing in Irish dance has given me things that no other sports could have. It has been something on which I can focus my energy and a way to be creative and physically active at the same time. It has taught me good sportsmanship, discipline, determination, and the importance of hard work for success. When I was younger, I spent almost every Saturday up at the studio helping teach the younger students, which taught me patience and how good it feels to watch someone you worked with do well, too.
During my career as a dancer, I have attended the Midwest Regional Oireachtas (Championship), North American National Championships, Great Britain’s, All Ireland Championships, and have qualified for the World Championships 12 times. I have been so lucky to have been able to travel around the United States, Canada, and Europe for dance because it has exposed me to new places, new cultures, and new people that I would otherwise not have had the opportunity to see. I have made many strong friendships with people I have met through Irish dance, and I know they will last forever.
I have to be honest, I love everything about competitive Irish dancing, even the things that many people aren’t too fond of. I live for the adrenaline rush, nervousness, excitement and celebration that come on the days I compete. I love the glamorous dresses covered in obscene numbers of rhinestones, the absurd-looking wigs with huge tiaras, the stage makeup that looks like it came right off a runway show, and yes, even the orange, “Oompa Loompa” spray-tanned legs. Some may say that things have gotten a little bit out of control lately (if you don’t believe me, watch the new TLC series Irish Dance Tweens to see what I mean), but I don’t really mind. Competition day is when all the fun takes place: getting dressed up and performing your best truly seal the deal.
Even though I have given up so much to continue competing, I would do it forever if it was possible. I wouldn’t change my experiences as a competitive Irish dancer for the world.
Photo Sources:
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