Alex Ko Read Online Free PDF Page A

me rehearsing at home. “That’s not dance! It’s aerobics.”
    I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt. I wanted Dad to be proud of me, and he was—when it came to everything else. But he didn’t think dance was serious. He was scared I was wasting my talents. He was so against it, he never came to a single competition.
    “Alex, he’s just worried for you,” Mom said, when I’d ask why he didn’t come.
    I knew she was right, but still . . . I always dreamed of the day when he would see me dance and realize that this was the thing I was born to do. That this was my passion. Just like in Billy Elliot , the more Dad disliked my dancing, the more I wanted to make him proud of it. I thought if I just worked hard enough, someday he would see it. But it seemed like he would never understand my passion for dance.
    In the meantime, dance was something Mom and I bonded over. There’s a lot of work that goes into making a dance. I wanted to be involved in every aspect. One of my favorite things to do was help make my costumes. Dance costumes are fitted and stretchy so you can move in them, but they’re also bright and beautiful to catch the judges’ attention. They’re like what ice skaters wear in the Olympics. I loved picking out colors and patterns that helped tell the story of my dance.
    Plus it didn’t hurt that I was really into the Power Rangers at the time, who just happened to wear bright, stretchy costumes to battle evil. I’m not saying that was my main reason for wanting to help make the costumes, but it certainly didn’t hurt.
    Once a month or so during the fall, Mom and I would drive to Des Moines, to visit a store called the Theatrical Shop. It was an amazing place, sort of like a mash-up between a Halloween store and a dance shop, all under the awning of an old movie theater. They had fabric, dance clothes, trim, wigs, theatrical makeup, props, shoes . . . everything. I used to love exploring the entire store. Then I’d get some new dance shorts and dance shoes, and pick out fabric for my next costume. We’d bring the fabric to Marina and talk over what I wanted my costume to look like, and then Marina would sketch out the costume and make it for me. Not only did I get great costumes that fit perfectly, but it was also way cheaper, which was good because my family wasn’t rich, and dancing cost a lot of money. So we did anything we could to hold down the costs.
    I know I sound a little OCD, but it’s the details that separate a good performance from a great one. When I’m up on that stage, the only person getting judged is me, so I need to make sure I’m happy with everything. If not, I have no one to blame but myself. Lots of people will tell you what to do, or what’s good, or what’s right. And I’m not saying you should ignore them—they are your mentors, coaches, family, and friends, and they’re trying to help you. But at the end of the day, you’ve got to do what’s right for you, no matter what anyone else says.
    When I was eight years old, I entered a dance competition in Davenport, Iowa. I really wanted to win. It wasn’t the biggest competition in the world, but Davenport was only fifty minutes away, so it was in my home territory. I had to go big. Michael Kohli and I spent months preparing my solo, which was a lyrical dance that we called “Ko Jun Dak.”
    Ko Jun Dak is how you would write my name in Chinese. In China, the family name (“Ko”) comes first. “Jun Dak” is my first name in Chinese. Ko means “tall,” Jun means “smart,” and Dak means “successful.” I was hoping for at least two out of three to come true.
    Lyrical dance has its roots in all kinds of styles: ballet, modern, jazz. It fuses all of them together, and it’s beautiful. The pieces tend to be light, delicate, and very emotional, with lots of intricate footwork. Michael choreographed “Ko Jun Dak” to Bach’s Prelude in C Major to highlight the fluidity of the lyrical style. Lyrical