The Famous Last Words Series is our tribute to the unpredictability of parenthood. In this series, we will discuss things we said a long time ago (or maybe just a few weeks or even days ago) that have been proven wrong, dreadfully wrong, since saying them. We share these stories in order to grow in parental humility, laugh at ourselves, and shed some light on what we know now that we didn’t know then. 

Anyone who knows our family knows these words have been proven to be very wrong. Not only have I somehow turned into a bona fide dance mom in my almost 16 years as a parent, but Peter has also turned into a dance dad, and every single one of our children has turned into a dancer. 

How did this happen when I so adamantly believed I would never, ever spend a significant portion of my life (and income) taking kids to and from dance lessons and competitions?

Let’s travel back in time to get to the bottom of this strange and unsettling situation. 

The Beginning

A long, long time ago, we only had one child. Her name was Bradana, a name which means “Wisdom” in Scottish Gaelic (well, technically it means “salmon,” but the salmon is a Scottish symbol of wisdom, and we were studying philosophy at the time and also reading Scottish mythology, so it only seemed right that should be her name.) But I digress.

Peter has always been a deep lover of his Scottish heritage, and through the years he instilled the same love in me. At this point in time, two years into our marriage, we went to our first Highland Games together, with little Bradana in tow. It was a sunny day in Arizona, and I loved everything about it, from the people in kilts throwing giant logs, to the dogs that were bigger than me and looked other-worldy, to the funnel cakes and great beer selection (I wasn’t too keen on the haggis at the time).

As we wandered around the Games, taking in the sights and sounds, we were drawn to the sound of the pipes and a tent surrounded by people. Little Bradana was already obsessed with ballet, so she was excited to see “big girls” dancing on the stage in beautiful tartans, wearing black ghillies and buns in their hair – so excited that she darted for the stage in the middle of a dance and actually managed to start to climb onto it. 

Fortunately we grabbed her just in time, and then we stayed to watch the dancing for a while – or really, to watch Bradana lilt her way around the grassy area at the foot of the stage. She was obviously convinced she was already as skilled as the dancers!

After that, we found a local teacher and she started taking Highland dance lessons. That was in 2010. Little did we know that just thirteen years later, she would have won multiple national championships and competed all over the United States, as well as in Canada and even Scotland. And even littler did we know that in thirteen years, we would have not one but three children qualify for the U.S. Highland Dance national championships!

Why We Do It

One of the reasons I said I’d never be a dance mom is because it requires a lot of dedication and commitment. It is a tremendous sacrifice of time and money for parents, and it can be pretty stressful too, having to navigate emotions when your child doesn’t do as well as he or she knows is possible. There have definitely been times we’ve had to step back and re-evaluate how much we can give to dance.

But at the end of the day, we’ve always decided it’s worth the sacrifices, for a lot of reasons. One of the most convincing reasons is that we’ve seen it teach our kids true humility and resilience. 

For example, I remember watching Bradana do the sword dance at Canadian championships back in 2018. It was the biggest stage and competition we had ever attended, and she was pretty nervous (as was I). When it came time for her sword dance, I was sweating bullets. 

For those readers who are not familiar with a sword dance, it’s the one where they dance over a sword and if they slightly touch it, they can be completely disqualified. There’s a lot at stake, and one misstep can be the difference between winning a medal and not even getting a callback. 

Bradana came up to do her sword dance. Her first step was lovely. And then, on her second step, she kicked her sword. She didn’t just step on it; she kicked it so hard that it spun about three feet away, and then the bottom sword turned to a diagonal position. And it was loud, very loud. 

It’s typical for dancers to just stop at that point, or maybe walk off stage, or maybe start crying, but she didn’t miss a beat. She kept dancing, placing her feet in the imaginary positions they should be in. There was no way she was getting any points for that dance, but she finished it strong and with grace. 

Or there was the time just last year when little Gregan (age seven at the time), fell in the middle of a dance. Not only did he get right up and keep dancing, but he finished with a smile. 

And there are the countless times the kids have not placed as high as they had hoped to, even when they gave it their all. Because sometimes it doesn’t matter if you think you deserve first place. Even if you’ve worked hard, spent hours training, and truly given your all, that doesn’t always mean you’ll be recognized. And that is a hard lesson. 

How do you teach someone that kind of persistence in the face of challenge? It’s not enough to read Aesop’s Fables or discuss what resilience is if you’ve never faced it. Training and competing in Highland dance has given the kids the opportunity to face the reality that sometimes things don’t go the way we want, and sometimes we mess up. Sometimes we even do our best, but for whatever reason the judge just didn’t place us the way we would place ourselves. And that’s okay. Just brush it off, keep dancing, and most of all, keep loving it. 

And so, fifteen years later, I’ll admit it. I’m a dance mom. In fact, as I write this post we are packing for a three-week trip for national championships in Boston. I’ll be documenting things as we go and posting updates here and on social media. Wish us luck for a smooth journey and happy dancing!