Dance Class Gives Active Social Outlet For Challenged Kids
Amanda Reeve does not have enough strength in her frail body to hold a pen, and, because of her cerebral palsy, motor control of her limbs is not a given.
But once a week, when Amanda hears the calypso rhythm of the movie soundtrack “Under the Sea,” she puts on her dancing shoes and lets her feet run free.
“So much of her world is so limited, so it is so nice if she can expand it out a little,” said Bobbi Reeve, watching her 12-year-old daughter shake and giggle to the music through a one-way mirror at the North Side’s Dance Emporium.
The weekly, hourlong class, open only for youths with neurological or muscular disorders, is the most exciting and rewarding thing in the lives of the three students taking the class, their parents say.
Andrea Fiedler has been coming home lately with a troubled face after a day of enduring mean, middle school barbs. But after the Monday class, Fiedler, 13, demands that her family watch her perform new dance moves.
She glows with pride, her mother says.
“She now comes home and says, ‘What is retarded?”’ said Lisa Fiedler.
“A lot of kids want to treat her special. She doesn’t want to be treated special. She wants to be treated normal.”
The class is the only social opportunity for Dustin Rhodes, a 14-year-old victim of cerebral palsy.
“His only other friend is in the car, and he barks,” said Naomi Rhodes, his mother.
Dance Emporium owner Linda Allen opened the class in November after receiving requests from Lisa Fielder and other North Spokane parents. Donna’s School of Dance in the Spokane Valley has a similar class, but the drive there was too long for some parents in North Spokane.
The class is not a money-maker for Allen. It is designed to hold up to eight students - fewer than normal - but only three have enrolled.
The class will continue, even with just three, the rest of the year, Allen said.
Allen is making special arrangements for the class to perform in the all-studio recital next June.
Even with a small class, instructor Chris Anderson has his hands full. The dancers tend to drift, mentally and physically. Dustin fell asleep during stretching exercises.
During a class last month, Anderson led Amanda, Andrea and Dustin through beginning jazz steps. The three pretended to be interested at times, shuffling their feet. But when the Disney soundtrack started, the three turned on.
Like other beginning dance students, the three youths are inhibited. Anderson tries to remove their inhibitions letting each of the three lead the class for a few minutes.
“To me, dance is an expression from within,” said Anderson, a North Spokane resident and professional dancer. “The class is a creative time, an expressive time.”
Parents of the youths marvel at his work.
Anderson cajoles Dustin, a shy, sleepy-eyed boy, into a crossover step with a grin and Buster Keaton-esque exaggeration.
He keeps Amanda, the most hyper of the three, interested in the same step by giving her a comic, hands-on-the-hips look of disapproval when she wanders off.
“I can see the progress in the students, and I get encouragement from that,” said Anderson.
The class breaks up and the three rush toward their parents. Dustin hugs a stranger. Andrea’s feet don’t stop tapping as she follows her mother out the door.
“These are kids that don’t fit into anything else, and here they feel welcome,” said Rhodes.
, DataTimes ILLUSTRATION: Photo