Baby got back

*This blog post makes me uncomfortable and is slightly personal but it was too good to pass up writing about.

I work in the theater and dance worlds so when it comes to a love life, men flirting with me or what have you, it is pretty much non-existant. I also went to the number 2 most gay friendly college in the country. It was more common to have a big comment on your hairdo or great shoes than it was to have discussing how hot you were with his guy friends. We had t-shirts that said ‘I’m a girl and I go to Emerson College…at least I got some in high school.’ I did not own that shirt, but the concept is brilliant and sadly true. I am not gonna lie, being flirted with, hit on or spoken about in that manner, by the appropriate person of course, is such a wonderful feeling. It gives you a sense of confidence and power that cannot be compared to anything else. I am a firm believer that confidence should come from within but help from a foxy gentlemen friend is not the worst thing in the world. However, when one is hit on or spoken about in a sexual way but a inappropriate person, a student to be exact, it doesn’t bring confidence as much as it brings fear for my job and a uncomfortable day at work.

This holiday season I was fortunate enough to work at a great little theater camp. As in many theater camps, there are 5 boys out of 60 students attending this 3-day theater extravaganza. The kids break up into 4 groups, split by age and travel throughout the day between four different instructors all of whom teach a dance. Group 3 is a lucky group! They not only have 2 boys but the only males counselor in the program. Boys will be Boys, flocking to the male counselor to discuss sports teams and rough house with them, hoping they will be able to exude their manly nature while being surrounded by all these little girls wearing pink. However, after my first class with group 3, this lone male counselor was ill prepared for the comments one of his ten year old campers would make.

‘Lexie has a huge butt’


‘I can’t stop looking at it’

(For the record: it is not THAT big)

The next day in my class, before I heard this story from the counselors, the little boy, fascinated with my large booty, stood behind me in class, barely danced, fixated on something … Something close to his eye level. I noticed that he wasn’t paying attention in class but I just assumed he was tired, ate too much, was overwhelmed with the choreography etc. It wasn’t until after my 2nd class that the counselors gave me the heads up. Honesty, I’m glad I was blissfully unaware while teaching because when I found out I actually had to walk away because I was laughing so hard and the brightest shade of red I have ever been.

The last day of camp I wore sweatpants and a sweater that came down to cover my rear end. I did not gain confidence or any sort of power by a ten year old thinking I have a big butt. If anything, I think he may have given me a complex and a fear of form fitting dance attire.


Life Lessons

Kids make me feel old. Specifically, teenagers make me feel old. Old and conservative. Sometimes I assume that those two things go hand and hand, but they don’t. I find as the years go on, I am becoming more conservative than some of the kids parents. Where girls are coming to rehearsal in shorts that leave little to the imagination, I am wearing jeans in the middle of the summer. Where 10 year old girls are walking in with blush, mascara, lipgloss and blue eyeshadow, I long for the days when I didn’t have to wear makeup to hide the giant bags under my eyes. I get that times are a changin’ but I can’t seem to hop on board when it comes to my students. This manifests itself both in the way I act in my non-teacher life and the life lessons I find myself bestowing on the students

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