My first ballet teacher, Karen Mills Jennings, found me when I was 4 through a public school program she started called Super Saturdays. If you had a spark for one of the arts disciplines, you could get a scholarship to the Flint School of Performing Arts. I got to dance my heart out! When I was 6, I started training more with Karen for ballet, and that was a shift. She taught me work ethic and discipline. She held ballet to a high standard, but with grace and patience.
Ballet has always been a safe place for me because of her. There were Black and brown dancers in the adult classes who wanted to try pointe, no matter what they looked like, and they became my idols. I saw Black dancers as Clara in our Nutcracker. She cultivated a culture of inclusivity and freedom. I did not train on pointe with Karen; it was a different time. But she trained me in such a way that the transition to pointe later was possible for me. I developed a foundation in my turnout and a strong relevé. She didn’t accept a false sense of pointe; it had to come from a very organic place. Her training was very anatomical.
I really remember her mannerisms. Karen was a very tactile teacher. She would roll around on a little scooter, maybe four inches off the floor, so she could be level with our toes! She was an individualized instructor. She saw where the art form could go if you spend time with each person individually and identify what they need.
While teaching class, Karen was so disciplined—but in rehearsals, she wanted us to almost forget it all and focus on the performance aspect. She worked with us on building characters and emotions and taught us to uphold that standard throughout the entire performance. We couldn’t lose the character when the tricky steps came up. Before every show, she gave us small stones as gifts of encouragement. They said things like “strength,” “empowerment,” “courage,” “discipline,” and “clarity.” I still have them next to my window today!
One day, we had a master class with a former New York City Ballet and Pacific Northwest Ballet dancer. I was 16 and getting ready to leave for PNB training, and I was a bit burnt out with everything and also nervous to move on to the next chapter. I showed up to this class and just couldn’t go in; I was hyperventilating and crying uncontrollably. Karen found me in the hallway and said exactly what I needed to hear. She said I could walk away from ballet right then. It was the most shocking thing, because I thought I was following someone else’s dream, and what she said released me. She told me I was in the driver’s seat and had control. After that day, my drive and passion came from a much deeper place. I appreciate her so much for that.
Karen built a community. She had connections everywhere and encouraged us to audition for summer intensives, took us to see performances, and brought anyone to the school she could. She showed Flint, Michigan, the joy and beauty of art. It was a saving grace for me. I felt like I always had so many people supporting me. She reminded me that even when I moved away, I would always be surrounded by the people that love me, and I still have that connection. For example, I perform in the Flint School’s annual Nutcracker as the Sugar Plum Fairy. It’s been a dream to be a part of the production that inspired me to start ballet! Also, last season, Karen retired, and I was able to go back to take her class, and even teach.
Karen helped me find myself in ways she didn’t even know. She showed us examples of queer people, and of Black people of all different shades and different classes. I had so many friends who looked different from me, but we could all come together to twirl and have fun because of the environment she cultivated, one where we were all equal. I could be myself and be a conduit of the art form.
The post What My Teacher Taught Me: Ashton Edwards of Pacific Northwest Ballet on the Early Impact of Karen Mills Jennings appeared first on Dance Teacher.