At the Ballet

Annie Nelson

            I believe in tradition and its ability to bring families together.  Ever since I was little, my grandparents have taken their 12 grandchildren to see The Nutcracker ballet at Lincoln Center.  My grandparents have always believed in the importance of enlightening their grandchildren through the arts, and thus, this tradition was born.

            On the maternal side of my family, my cousins range in age from 11 to 25.  The Nutcracker became a rite of passage for me and my cousins.  We viewed our first invitation to the ballet as a milestone as important as our Bat Mitzvahs.  The ballet was an experience we looked forward to on Thanksgiving, one we discussed in anticipation in between bites of sweet potato pie and my Nana’s famous Swedish meatballs.

            I remember the first time I went to The Nutcracker.  My mom blow-dried my hair, and my outfit matched those of my sisters; we were uniform in our cable knit sweaters, corduroys, and boots.  Once we arrived in New York City, my cousins and I entered the theater together.  We walked as a herd, our footsteps synchronized, as the loud click of Nana’s heels on the marble floor trailed off in the distance.

            I must admit, my first few times seeing The Nutcracker, I could hardly pay attention, let alone understand the story line.  I remember plopping down in the plush, velvet seats as the lights dimmed for the first act to begin.  Despite peripheral views of my brother falling asleep, I tried my hardest to keep my eyes on the stage and let myself escape into Tchaikovsky’s fairy tale.  But I had trouble taking the dance seriously; I couldn’t help giggling with my cousin, Lizzie, at the ridiculously large rats dancing on stage, and the tightness and elasticity of the male dancers’ tights. 

            I sighed in relief as the lights returned for intermission, knowing my favorite part of the show had arrived.  My grandparents treated each of us to a refreshment and gift of our choice.  Over the years, I have accumulated a remarkable number of trinkets from past shows.  My collection includes a nutcracker doll, a black bejeweled sweatshirt, and a sugar plum fairy figurine, all of which I have held onto as keepsakes.

            But after years of experiencing the same ballet, I began to appreciate it in new ways.  Not only did I become more engaged in the plot (I can recite scene after scene by memory), I started to appreciate the company of my cousins beside me.  At the ballet, I could savor each moment of our togetherness until it was time to part and say, “see you at Chanukah!”

            Then we grew up, got too busy, and decided The Nutcracker was no longer the “cool” thing to do.  I haven’t made a trip to Lincoln Center in years, but I wish I had never stopped going because I believe that traditions are the key to successful family relationships.  My grandparents recently announced that this year would be their last trip to see The Nutcracker.  I know that this year, all of my cousins will be in attendance, enjoying one another’s company as much as the ballet itself.