Monday, October 9, 2017

Las Vegas: More than Just Sin City

I never watch the news. But this week I haven’t been able to turn it off.

On Sunday October 1st, 2017 I was at a rehearsal in a studio near the famous Las Vegas Strip. Our music was blaring as we were going over the steps we had just learned, when the studio owner hurriedly walked in, closed the garage-like door on the far wall and worriedly told us that there was a shooting on the strip and it was suspected that a possible shooter was nearby at the In-n-Out about a block away. With the music off, all you could hear were the blaring sirens outside. Out of precaution, we stopped rehearsal, turned out the lights and sat in the innermost part of the studio walls. We all grabbed our phones and started texting loved ones. Initially, we had no idea the magnitude of what was happening just a few blocks away. As we sat in the corner of the dark studio for two hours, we quickly learned how incredibly horrific this shooting actually was.

Realizing that I had a few friends at the Route 91 Music Festival, I texted them immediately. I was at no point concerned for my own safety, I was confident that we were safe where we were, but I was extremely concerned for those I knew who were in attendance. 

A little after midnight, we decided that we were in the clear and could make our way home. As we made our exit from the studio, we all headed west, away from the strip. What would have taken me about 10 minutes, took me over 40 minutes to get home since many roads were shut down. As I drove, safely out of harms way, to my home, I broke down into tears listening to the radio and learning what had happened. Realizing that I was in my car, alive, heading to my safe and cozy home… something that innocent people would never have the chance to do again. 

When I got home, I immediately tuned on the news. I was up until the early hours of the morning watching, hearing and seeing what happened, in complete shock… trying to wrap my head around the fact that I was mere blocks from where the worst shooting in Modern US History had just occurred. Something I never thought would happen so close to where I was living. That night, throughout all hours and the next morning, I received concerned texts and calls from friends and family, making sure I was okay. I couldn’t stop thinking about all the people who weren’t. After eventually falling sleep, I woke up only a couple hours later, to go to work, where the day dragged on, while I continued to listen to the news. I learned that close to where I was that night, there were stranded survivors who were able to escape the attack, who were waiting for rides home from family members, or whoever would give them a ride. I immediately felt like I had missed my chance to help. If I had known that there were people there, stranded, needing help, I would have driven by and picked up a few people to drive home that night. When I left the studio, I knew that I couldn’t drive toward the strip, but I didn’t know that just a few blocks south of where I was, they needed help. I still wish I would have gone to help make sure at least one of those survivors got home safely. 

This week has been full of emotions. Shock, concern, heartache, guilt, sadness, helplessness. I wish I could’ve done something. I wish I could have helped someone who needed it. 

As the days have passed, we’ve learned more and more about what happen that night. The lives we lost, the ones who were injured, and the hero’s who saved some. Listening to stories of those who bravely ran back into danger to save a stranger, those who held a dying stranger in their arms while they took their last breathe, those who put their fingers in the open bullet wounds of the shot victims, those who transported victims in their personal cars to the hospital and those who used themselves as a human shield to save another. It’s a strange feeling to see the kind of humanity that exists in this world in such a tragic scenario. It’s heartwarming and heartbreaking all at once. 

I’ve had a difficult time this week, figuring out my thoughts and feelings. Constantly reminded by the numerous signs throughout the city, reading “#VEGASSTRONG” or “Thank you first responders” has kept those feelings fresh. I wasn’t there, and I’m not dealing with what thousands of others experienced that night, but I am still a part of this community, I still care, and people I love were still affected. 

I’ve never been particularly proud to say that I live in Las Vegas, especially when I say that I’m a dancer and have to explain that, because of what Vegas in known for. But this week, I couldn’t be more proud to be a part of this community. To see the outpouring of love from everyone has been amazing. Millions of dollars raised, nine hour lines outside blood banks, vigils and memorials created for those we lost. It has been inspiring. Las Vegas is more than just the strip. It’s more than just the glitz, glamour, parties and extravagance. It’s a city of genuine people who truly care about one another and those they’ve never met. 

Thank you to the first responders, the doctors and nurses who rushed in on their night off, the strangers who helped one another, the men and women who risked their lives to save someone else’s. You are the true hero’s. 

I spent last Tuesday night at the vigil on Sahara and Las Vegas Boulevard, just a few blocks from where I live, holding the hands of strangers as we prayed circling the hundreds of lit candles. In that moment, nothing else mattered. There we were, complete strangers of all races, religions, upbringings, political parties and sexual orientations, coming together to honor those affected… because after all, we are all human.

Today for the first time since the tragic shooting, I drove down Las Vegas Boulevard, in front of the Mandalay Bay and the Route 91 lot. It was an eery feeling, knowing what happened there just a few days ago and that I have stood in that exact same lot before . Seeing it still blocked off,  FBI investigators walking around while it was guarded by the police, was surreal. Looking up and seeing the broken windows now covered but still noticeable was chilling. How could someone commit such a crime? We'll never know.

I never thought I’d be so close to something so horrific like this. It has and will forever change the city and those who lived through it. But it reminds you, that there still are great people in the world, and when we all come together for the common good of humanity, amazing things will happen. 



Proudly,
Dorothy in Sin City











Wednesday, September 13, 2017

Know Yourself and You Are Home

September 1st, 2017 marked four years since I moved to Las Vegas. September is always a time when I reflect a lot on what has happened since I took that leap. I think about what I’ve experienced over the past few years and how much I’ve grown and learned from my mistakes and challenges. For some reason I’ve had something very specific on my mind lately that I know so many people deal with. It hasn’t been one of my biggest challenges, but it’s always been a constant challenge… Body image.

As a dancer, your body is everything. It is your instrument, your tool, whatever you want to call it. I’ve spent countless hours in front of mirrors, judging myself and my body. I’ve had people comment about my body and I’ve listened to my own minds critiques about how my body isn’t good enough. Growing up in ballet classes in my hometown or at summer programs, I quite often felt like the fat one in the class. And I was never fat! I was constantly surrounded by girls with the “perfect” ballerina bodies… slender, tall, toned, flexible. I’ve always hated my legs. They’re too short, too thick, and too disproportionate to my upper body. I had kids in High School laugh and tell me I had huge calves, or thunder thighs. I had a choreographer in college change my costume because my butt was “too big”. I grew up listening to these things, picking myself apart and paying attention to everything I hated about my body… my legs, my nose, my ears, my feet, my hands, my collar bones, my butt. I wasn’t flexible enough, I wasn’t pretty enough, I wasn’t tall enough. I sometimes felt like I was wasting my time wanting to be a dancer, because I never thought anyone would watch some big thigh, short-legged girl dance. But, I continued because I had hope that for some, it wouldn’t matter how long my legs were, or that I wasn't the most flexible one in the room.

I moved to Las Vegas because I was chasing my dream of dancing professionally. I have been accepted by numerous people as a dancer, not because my body is perfect, but because my body is capable and there’s more to it than just your body. I’m still here, still dancing, still chasing that dream one step at a time with the body that I was given, my physical home for my entire life. 

Over the past four years, I’ve still struggled with how I see my body. I still go to a ballet class and see some stunning dancer and think “I wish I had a body like hers.” I still look in the mirror sometimes and think to myself “I hate my legs”, or “All I can see are the bags under my eyes”, or “I can’t wear my hair like this, it makes my ears stick out”.  It always takes me a moment, to stop and remind myself who I am and how far I’ve come.

I’ve learned to appreciate and embrace my unique qualities. Just a few weeks ago, I was out with some friends and I heard a girl comment to her friend about my legs and butt. Instead of being upset by it, I’ve now come to realize how happy I am to not be shaped like a ruler. (haha!)

I don’t have the perfect body. I have a long torso, cellulite, and my butt won’t fit in everything I try on… but THAT’S OKAY! And I’ve finally gotten to the point where (most of the time) I can say that I’m proud of my body because it has gotten me to where I am now. It isn’t “ideal”… but what is? I’m strong, I’m capable and I can dance… all things that I am because of my imperfect body.

I know so many people (men and women included) deal with body issues and how they see themselves. If there’s anything I could pass on from what I’ve come to accept is that your “flaws” are only as big as you let them to be. You can either allow the societal expectations to chip away at your confidence, or you can embrace what is uniquely yours and yours alone. Don’t believe everything you see in the media, stop comparing yourself and keep being beautiful- inside and out!


Love,
Dorothy in Sin City


"Home is knowing your mind, knowing your heart, knowing your courage. If we know ourselves, we're always home. Anywhere." -Glinda