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Joselyn Cooks
UWRT 1100 074
Ingram
Personal Narrative Draft 3
The Last Dance
The walk from our make-shift dressing area to Exhibit Hall A where the finals were
taking place seemed to take forever. The sun sparkled harshly through the windows, and I stared,
amazed at where I was. Through the palm trees and past the parking lot the ocean twinkled blue
and white. Just two days before I was sure that I would be laying out on the beach for the rest of
the week, doubting our team would make it to the finals, but here we were. We watched the girls
stretching in their warm-up suits as we went by. One girl, probably eight years old, with thick
black eyeliner and a blonde bun pulled tight on top of her head held her leg by her ear and stared
forward with a look of concentration I have never seen on a girl that size. Then, we passed by a
group of girls sitting by the wall with a blanket stretched over their knees and their heads on each
other's shoulders. They looked absolutely exhausted. We seemed to be going in slow motion,
savoring the last moments before our final dance together as a team. It hadn't really sunk in with
me yet that this would be the last time I would ever performed with my girls.
After what seemed like forever, we turned the corner toward the auditorium. We passed
by an array of scents from the popcorn cart, the roasted peanuts, and the cotton candy. It made
me cringe and my stomach knot up even smelling the overpoweringly sweet and buttery smells.
Then, I saw my parents. They were standing outside the door of the hall smiling tightly. This was
their expression most of the time lately. I sighed, half way wishing I hadn't begged them to come
and full heartedly wishing I didn't have to beg for them to be there. There was a pit in my

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stomach as I gave them each a hug and made myself smile excitedly. They just nodded back, and
my dad ushered my stepmom in to find a place to sit. Shake it off, Joselyn. This is your time. I
couldn't worry about them at the moment. This was it. This was the climax of the ten years of
grueling, hard work I had put myself through. Pride swelled in my chest because I knew I had
earned this.
I thought back on all the memories that led me to this convention center in Myrtle Beach
on that hot, July day. Although I had plenty of amazing and challenging experiences in classes
and workshops over the past ten years, none of them seemed significant when I thought of all the
people who had shaped my dancing career. First, my grandmother who had instilled her love of
dance in me when I was only a few years old by taking me to see the Nutcracker Ballet every
Christmas. I thought of all the amazing teachers whom I could never forget, but there were three
people in particular who I felt I owed this moment to. Angela, David, and Shelby Bisher, my
mentors since I was eleven and my second family. They were the only ones I could think of
while I walked away from my parents and into the crowded hall where I would perform the most
important piece of my entire life.
It was dim and there was a thin fog laying over the hall. I felt like I could actually see
tiny particles of glitter hanging in the air. The walls stretched high above my head, probably over
thirty feet tall. It was impossible to even see the ceiling because it was so far up, but I imagined
that black rafters zig-zagged across the entire length. The room was so big that it took a couple
minutes to even walk the whole length. One side was lined with bleachers stretching all the way
up to the ceiling. I imagined it sat 50,000 people, and that day every seat was filled. I tried not to
look at them when I walked by to go backstage. There was a huge black divider in the middle of
the room to act as a curtain on either side of the stag. Ten foot sparkly blue and yellow letters

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spelled out STARSYSTEMS with the A the shape of a star. The stage itself was enormous, and I
wondered how sticky it was. Were there any bumps or feathers from costumes I needed to watch
out for? I couldn't wait to be on it with the lights beating down on me and every eye in the room
watching me.
We all huddled backstage shivering with excitement as Dana checked us in with the
young man at the little table near the stairs to the stage. He didn't look very nice. They never did.
"Oh, he's cute," Summer said. She was the only one who would notice something like that at
such a crucial time. I heard the music of the next group of performers start. It was a slow piece.
Good, ours will look awesome after that. We just have to bring our energy. I fluffed the tulle in
my skirt nervously. "I think we're on after this." Not yet. "We must be next...someone go ask."
Still we waited. The waiting was the worst part. I remembered other times in my life when I had
to wait. I checked the mail twice a day for a month straight for the results of my first big
audition. I waited for a solid five minutes that felt like five hours before my first solo. I felt the
same panicky feeling that day, like if I thought too hard about what was about to happen I might
faint. What if my legs just give up on me? What if I forget the dance? Of course, each one of us
could probably do the dance in our sleep, but we couldn't help but go over all the tiny details
again and again. "Okay, remember, the lines changed for the final turn section." "Yeah, and don't
forget it's one, two, chaines and the second one you hold on the third." I kept kicking my leg as
high as I could, trying to touch my face to my knee. It released energy and made me feel ready. I
was jittery and sweaty and I could feel my heart vibrating in my chest. Finally, our name was up
next. We were right after a dance from Southern Strut, the team to beat at this competition. We
all looked at each other wide-eyed and scared as we climbed the stairs and stood in the wings.

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Even Lauren looked nervous, and she never did. Each one of us were all thinking the same thing,
but our mouths stayed tightly shut. We're after Southern Strut... We're doomed.
Casey Tuttle, the announcer we had grown fond of teasing at the regional's over the years
walked on stage to announce us. We gathered behind the stage to say a quick prayer. I don't
remember everything that was said but the feeling of love and encouragement for one another
had never been so strong among our group. We had really become like a family, arguing and
bickering every week, but always watching out for the good of the team. Yes, we had our
differences in the past, but now was the time to put all the pettiness and drama aside and come
together to win. I forgot all the jealous gossip and name-calling I had heard and sadly been a part
of over the years and felt an overwhelming sense of family.
All of a sudden, we were lining up. McKenna counted "five, six, seven, eight" and we
marched on stage. Oh god, this is it. I stood with my team in our matching pose with our right
leg popped, left hand on our hips, and body slightly arched in that confident, puffed out way. The
music started and everything fell away. I was immersed in that indescribable feeling I always got
when I was onstage. My body didn't feel like it was an actual part of me. I seemed to watch
myself dance from high up above the stage. Good job, Joselyn. This is it. Ouch, a little wobbly
on that turn. Don't even think about your feet cramping or else they will. Here we go. Wink! Yes,
cute. You got this. The bass was so deep and the music so loud, but somehow it sounded far
away. Lauren and Jazmine were less than a foot away from me, but I forgot that they existed.
This was my last opportunity to really shine onstage and do what I knew I was meant to do. I
could not have thought of a better way to end my amateur dancing career than performing at the
Star Systems National Finals. I was so proud of myself and I hoped my parents, grandma, and
the Bisher family were too.

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I went through the movements effortlessly, hitting everything harder than I had ever done
before. As I flicked my right foot and ball changed onto the left I held my breath. Nailed it. I
skipped backstage, holding my character until I couldn't see the judges, then caught my breath
for a split second as I got in position to go back on. I watched Lauren, Alex, and McKenna cross
step and snap their way to the center of the stage then chaines, down, down, and barrel leap high
into the air, throwing their heads back to add emphasis. This was my cue. I walked in on my tip
toes, rolling my shoulders and smiling at what I assumed was the audience. All I saw was a black
blur where people's faces must have been. It was better not to look too hard.
The rest of the dance went by in a blur, and suddenly, we were almost to the end. We had
changed this part only the day before, and I was a little nervous about nailing it. Okay, I was a lot
nervous. I slid one spot over so that I was on the outside of Mary Margaret. I felt myself get a
little off on the turns, but hopefully the judges didn't notice. One, and two, and three, and hold,
chaines, shimmy! I smiled widely and stretched my arms above my head. I could feel the energy
shooting out of my fingers. Flick, flick! This was my favorite part of the dance. In that small
eight-count I always felt alive in a way that was not possible anywhere but the stage. Then, I
booked in into the center of the stage, turning and falling to one knee and pointing straight at the
judges. It was over. I waited a few second and somehow, like we always did, we all stood up at
the same moment and walked sassily off the stage. The exhilarating feeling was still coursing
through my veins. We did it! It was over. I felt like we had just lined up, but I wish those three
minutes could have lasted a lifetime.
As I drove home that night I was overwhelmed with a sense of sadness and loss. The
competition was over. Dance was over. I was not sad because we didn't win, in fact, I was
incredibly proud with how well we did. I was devastated that it was my last dance.