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In 1990, when Boston Ballet began renovating its 19 Clarendon St. headquarters, the company and school temporarily relocated to my elementary school’s gymnasium in Newton. It was every 6-year-old girl’s fantasy come true. In between my first-grade classes, I’d peer down the long hallway and see these sinewy ballerinas glide past us on their way to rehearsal. I would have done anything to be part of it. Well, almost anything.
I begged my mother for lessons. But because I was an extraordinarily shy kid, I asked that she walk me down the long hallway to the gym. Because she is a good mother, she said I could take lessons only when I was ready to make the walk myself. It took me a year to muster the courage.