Home Away From Home

The dance studio has been my home away from home since I was seven. The people there have become my second family. The dance studio in Pomerene Hall is no different. It is slightly dark and has faded wood that reflects the work and sweat that has occurred in this room. The white scratches in the light brown wood floor mirror the work that has gone on in this room. There are two dark brown double doors that open into this seemingly empty space. It is a space that seems so large with bland white walls the space seems boring and depressing but as the students fill the space, lining the walls with their shoes and bags, the space seems much cozier. The students come in and immediately relax as they feel as at home as I do.

The ceilings are over twenty feet high and several dim lights hang from the ceiling that seems to have paint chipping off. The windows are taller than I am and they look out onto a bustling street with students and busses passing by. The windows have a white haze of dust around the top, as it looks like they haven’t been clean in quite some time. The walls are lined with ballet bars that have faded into about seven different shades of brown from the sweat of nervous hands clutching the bar. An old brown piano sits in the corner collecting dust and serving as a shelf for papers and folders.

As students begin to fill the room the professor turns to the large double layer black stereo and turns on soft instrumental music. The students are able to sense what this mean sand they begin stretching in all different parts of the room. The professor stretches in second position as he gazes at his binder of notes visualizing the combinations he has planned. The slightly dirty old dance studio with scratches and smudged mirrors makes me feel like I am at home.