Pointes and Perspective #50 Keep The Light On

Keep The Light On

Recently, I was told that one of my university students would be transferring to another dance program at the end of the semester. I was disappointed, but I wasn’t surprised.

This particular student is naturally talented. The kind of dancer you watch and think, there’s something there. But talent is a quiet thing when it isn’t partnered with effort. And throughout the semester, she held back. Consistently late. Often asking to sit out. Observing instead of engaging. Never overtly disrespectful, but always just on the edge of nonchalant, and not really wanting to be there.

And still, I showed up for her.

The same way I show up for all of them. With love. With expectations. With 200%.

I corrected. I encouraged. I held boundaries. When she was late, I followed up. When she sat out, I gave her work to do. When she marked instead of danced, I asked for more. Not because I expected perfection, but because I knew she was capable of trying.

If I’m honest, though, there were moments I wanted to give up. Not outwardly. Never in a way she could see. But inside, there was that quiet frustration. The kind that comes from watching potential sit untouched. It felt like a shame, really. Not in a judgmental way, but in that deep, human way of witnessing someone not yet seeing themselves.

When I spoke with the program director about her transfer, we agreed that no matter where she trains, her experience will reflect the level of personal investment she chooses to bring to it. Because it’s true. We can provide the space, the structure, and the opportunity, but we cannot choose for them. Growth requires participation. It requires willingness. It requires that moment when a dancer decides, I’m in.

And yet, here’s where it gets complicated.

The very next class, she came in not feeling well and asked to observe. As educators, we have to hold space for that, so I said yes. But I gave her an assignment, as I always do when a student sits out. A random prompt from my rotating list, How do you motivate an unmotivated individual?

Her response stopped me.

She wrote, “I don’t think you can motivate someone who already made up their mind… You can’t always pour into a person who doesn’t know how to pour into themselves first… If they are unmotivated you shouldn’t waste your time trying… because it’s not going to work.”

It broke my heart.

Not because she was entirely wrong, but because of what it revealed. Somewhere along the way, she had come to believe that she wasn’t worth the effort. That trying, for herself or for others, was already a lost cause.That people should not “waste their time.”

And that is the moment where teaching becomes something deeper than technique. Because yes, she’s right in one sense. Motivation does have to come from within. No one can do the work for you.

But I don’t believe that means we stop trying.

I have seen too much. I have lived too much. Every educator I know has a story about the student they almost gave up on. The one who, years later, found their spark. Maybe it was a different teacher. Maybe it was a life event. Maybe it was a performance that shifted something inside them.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was one small, consistent voice that never fully disappeared.

That’s the part we don’t get to measure. We don’t always see the moment it clicks. We don’t always get to be there for the transformation. But that doesn’t mean our presence didn’t matter.

Because something ignites all of us at some point. A teacher, a moment, a piece of music, a role, a realization - Something.

So even on the days when I want to walk past her at the barre. When it feels exhausting to keep asking for more. When it seems like nothing is landing, I don’t give up. Not because I believe I can force her to change. But because I don’t know that I won’t be the one who reaches her.

There are still fifteen classes left. Fifteen chances, fifteen moments, fifteen opportunities for something to shift, however small, however quiet.

And if it’s not me? Then at least I know I didn’t dim the light before someone else had the chance to turn it on. Because sometimes the role of a teacher isn’t to ignite the fire, it’s simply to keep striking the match.

Even if I’m not the spark, I might still be part of the light…

Keep the light on.

“People are often unreasonable and self-centered. Forgive them anyway. If you are kind, people may accuse you of ulterior motives. Be kind anyway. Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough. Give your best anyway.”

-attributed to Mother Teresa