The courage to dance

As a journalist I cross paths with many remarkable people. I have interviewed four men, for example, who were brave enough to travel to the Moon in tiny spaceships. I once had a long and gut-wrenching talk with a woman who suffered through cruel medical experiments as a little girl at Auschwitz during World War II. I even interviewed one man who gently settled a submersible upon the bottom of the deepest trench in the deepest ocean and another who jumped with a parachute from the edge of space. One might think that after these and many other such encounters, I would presume to know all about courage and toughness. Not so. From time to time I am still surprised when extraordinary bravery reveals itself in unlikely places.

Guy

Such was the case last Saturday during a performance by Barnes Dance Academy at the Prospect Playhouse Theater. I was there as just another parent in the audience, hoping that my little girl wouldn’t fall off the stage, hoping that she would do well enough to leave with a smile. My daughter came through just fine but that was not the night’s only highlight for me. There was an unexpected display of human courage that caught me by surprise.

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Dance instructor Susan Pereira announced to the audience that in recent months she has been diagnosed with breast cancer, undergone life-saving surgery, and must still undergo treatment. While it was disturbing to learn that such a brilliant, positive and beautiful person must endure hardships, it is nothing unusual. Sadly, good people are struck with misfortune for no rhyme or reason all the time in this unfair world of ours.

Susan performed a memorable solo dance that she called ‘Rebirth’. It was an expression of her attitude toward the difficult challenges she faces. The performance was a thundering statement that she is alive, perhaps more so now than ever. Susan is an accomplished dancer but on that night she was more than a talented and well-trained person moving to music. She was transcended by her appreciation for life and somehow managed to pull the audience along with her.

In addition to a string of brave people who stood at the crossroads of history, I also have interviewed and observed up close many of the world’s greatest athletes. I saw Michael Jordan play in his prime. From just a few feet away on the sidelines, I saw Jerry Rice snatch a pass from somewhere far beyond the reach of mortals. At the 1996 Atlanta Olympic Games I was only 30 yards away as Michael Johnson surged off the turn in golden spikes to pull away and win the 200 meters in a stunning 19.32 seconds. I was confident that his race would stand as the greatest athletic sight of my life. I was wrong.

All my top sports memories have been toppled from their pedestal by one woman’s dance on a small stage in Grand Cayman. She did not simply move that night. She found a way to show her courage to others. When Susan ran, she seemed to fly. When she stood still, she seemed to levitate. During that dance there was no fear, no frailty. There was nothing sick or weak about her. She was powerful and inspirational. In a world soured by so much ignorance, fear and hate, she made a convincing case for why one can still be proud to be a human being.

No athlete in the world ever moved with more strength and grace than Susan Pereira on 23 June 2007.

And few of us have ever been, or ever will be, more alive.

To learn more about breast cancer, visit www.breastcancer.org