The West Virginia Highland Dancers studio is more than the small white space in the back of an inconspicuous neighborhood home, with nicked-up oak wood floors and a giant mirror lovingly covered in class notes and favorite dance teacher quotes (creating a running joke; the best so far is “I could run a truck through your entrechats” (Sarah Jean)). The achievements it strives for, memories created from many late evenings practicing for competitions, and culture of work ethic and closeness throughout the dance community has created a way of life for its dancers- a stable place that they may come to throughout their years of dancing to find friends and work hard for something. For over six years I have participated in this dancing community, recently pushing the extra mile to gain certification as a dancing instructor, and seen the growing connection between our cast of dance family and the Elkins community, including nearby Davis and Elkins college- all in the spirit of Highland dancing.
Tucked behind a little one-story suburban house in Elkins, West Virginia, the only indication that something valuable to residents occurs there is the frequent line of cars down the street and faint piping music wavering through an open white gate on the side. A porch that has been filled many afternoons and evenings with dancers both training and relaxing during the summer wraps around the very back, and inside, portions of the white walls are dotted with students’ artwork and achievements printed in the local paper. A corner with well-used chairs gives a place to sit, but clearly is more a dumping place for sports bags and coats, from where dancers spread out onto a scuffed oak floor, dusty from many feet but shining like a brand-new trophy to any dancer who has used it a thousand times. We sweat in there, dance our little hearts out in there, and study in there. A picture tells a thousand words- but what does the comfort of this studio given to us mean, expressed in a single thought by a dancer who has used this space since she was four years old? “You can’t be comfortable until you realize how comfortable you can be,” premier level dancer Mollie laughed as we reminisced on how far we have come in depending on the studio. “You can’t be comfortable until you put in your time.”
And what time has been put in. Backed into the far corner of the seating area, a shelf holds at least twelve years’ worth of year books dating back to classes with dancers that many of us never had the chance to meet. When the West Virginia Highland Dancers group was founded by Katy Dillon in the late 90’s, the group was a different one. With a focus on performing, emphasis was not placed on competitions until much later when new dancers caught an athletic hunger for winning. But even as past dancers have graduated and moved to different places and interests, the spirit has continued strongly- Katy’s influence is clear from the perspective of dancers who come to the space to learn and grow. When Cathy’s daughter, Katie, first began taking lessons from Katy in preparation for the United States National Championships in 2016, they each feared that they would face rejection from the group for being outsiders- Cathy and Katie live in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania and learn predominantly from a retired teacher much closer to them. “It’s hard to be the only one dancing,” Cathy remembered of Katie’s experience as a Highland dancer learning in a solely one on one class environment. “We came down for the first time…and it was awesome.” “They were so sweet to her.” Although Cathy and Katie hail from over a four hours’ drive from Elkins, the family still finds time to visit every once in a while and see the dancers who look forward to the visits with matched excitement. Katy’s development of ties to instructors and the Saint Andrew’s Society in Pittsburgh have created what had been nicknamed “Elksburgh”- the homogeneity of Elkins and Pittsburgh. The spirit of dancing with a devoted group of others who love their sport- with a passion enough to reach across state boundaries to perform together- creates an addicting group atmosphere. “I can’t even imagine loving anything as much as I love Highland dancing,” Katy admitted to me on a recent afternoon. “I like belonging to something like that.” Something that creates ties more reaching than space and more lasting than the preparation for one competition. This connection has been a process in motion for these many years, and now the fruition is evident. This connection has been forged over many years and now has become evident.
This feeling of working for an achievement, of belonging to a group, was what attracted me to dance. Having seen the fishbowl of small northeastern ballet studios for the first twelve years of my life, exploring the Highland dancing with Katy hugely challenged my ability to try new things. At first the reason I came was for the lack of major ballet schools within a reasonable distance of my home- but it was not the reason that I stayed. My first classes were eye-opening, because here suddenly was a group of dancers that were each working for their own goals and achievements in a solo sport where what you put in is what you get, respective to your level and the particular competition. One girl may be developing her flexibility and style of choreography dancing, while others may be sweating up a storm to gain the strength for a dozen additional leaps in their Sword dance. Highland dance was something that I could work for, progress in, and find consistency in. So I practiced. The home that I shared with my grandparents and cousin was tiny, and the only large space with an uncarpeted floor was in the kitchen- but practicing there became stressful as the noise of landing from pas de basques and jumps bothered my grandmother- who was trying to hear the television over me. It was the image of those girls who had achieved what I wanted, and the feeling I craved of one day being able to dance with matched technique alongside them that told me to never give up, and I did not. This was the charisma that the WVHD studio had- “I have to just understand that this place is pretty magical and I’m just here for the ride,” Mollie remarked to me when we looked back with nostalgia at the early classes we had together, and how far we have come because of the pressure we inadvertently put on one another. As a beginner dancer, the solution my father found was to build a rough floor in a dilapidated and unused house below ours. It was my away space, my project. I could turn up my iPod as high as the built-in speakers would allow and drill the exercises from class- half points, pas de basques, high cuts, over and over and over. The sweat I spent was exhilarating, the progress I showed later in the studio rewarding. But only enough that I was the next day back at work.
I remember one late afternoon that I had practiced into the evening, but my eyes had readjusted to see in the dim light. It was cold, thirty-four degrees out, and my fingers were starting to bite a little. I had done my abdominal exercises for the day though, and just was happy to have consistency, progress. A couple of days later I met Katy and her husband at the studio and took her swords with us to a nearby nursing home where the youngest classes were performing, maybe ten children in all. They were so excited, dressed up their sparkly choreography outfits and ready to show new dances. And there I was, privileged with the ability to assist them because I had enough mastery of movement and knowledge of the steps. This teaching on the side of my dancing became an unexpected reward which I never could have thought would take me to where I am now…a certified dancing instructor with my own classes. The group of us walked through the dark to our car in the expansive nursing home’s snowy parking lot; little specks of snow drifted down to us to leave their pretty stings on coats and bare arms. “It’s freezing out here, and you don’t even have a coat on!” I remember Katy trying to convince me of the uncomfortable temperature. The cold had been nothing to me by my outdoors training, the excitement of the evening instead everything on my mind.
Many West Virginia Highland Dancers were attracted into the group by local performances and continue to reach out to the community with similar dance projects and shows. Now national championship level dancer Evelyn Bennett began when she was only a toddler, inspired by a belly dance choreography special put on at a Spring Highland Fling performance in the early 2000’s. Although disappointed to find no belly dancing in dance class, the love for Highland took hold. Others have continued to furthered education at the nearby Davis and Elkins College; Ellie McCutcheon was among those to establish the Davis and Elkins Highland Dancers, which frequently perform and teach for the college. Having recently joined them, I was launched into several projects which continue to grow attention in our academic community, including a campus community “Irish Jig” to celebrate Saint Patrick’s Day- while some faculty were more hesitant than others to join in, the good humor in the spirit of our requests created enough smiles to make our project worth the work. The outreach towards non-dancing community members by dancers stepping into roles of leadership- creating a spotlight which they are already well accustomed to- continues to draw in more participation and appreciation for our sport.
No matter the class or the level which a dancer is at, the moment they step through the doors of the WVHD studio and give dedication to the learning it offers, they are given a lifestyle and a family. Cathy recalled that “you guys welcomed us with open arms” when she had needed a second coaching resource for her daughter, who was preparing to dance for the first time in the most prestigious championship in the United States. “You are all just so genuine,” she told me, and “it is just heartwarming.” New dancers join our midst every year to grow the family, and as soon as they do, their parents and siblings become wrapped in it as well. “Over the years, we’ve begun to do more and more in the studio…we have birthday parties here, paint here, and study here,” Mollie pointed out. “It’s no longer just a dance studio, but a safe haven.” Is it really that this space is the safest one she has, or is it more that the studio has taken on a special role in Mollie’s personal development, associated now with success, friendship, and reward that have come after crossing her own athletic challenges? Like with Mollie and I, something special occurs within those white walls for dancers who come.
Written by: Gabriele Pealer
Bio: An artist, student, and lover of teaching, I have been Highland Dancing for over six years– having ballet danced for the ten years prior to joining the West Virginia Highland Dancers in Elkins, West Virginia. Now certified as a Highland dancing instructor, I instruct weekly classes and private lessons for my own dancers. I am also an active member of the Davis and Elkins College Highland Dancers, regularly performing and filming dance for the campus, while continuing my journey of learning as a full-time Pre-Medicine student at Davis and Elkins College. There I tutor for several higher education programs and serve as the Vice President of our sole chemistry appreciation group, surrounded by students and faculty alike who share a common love for thoughts and ideas. Having experienced life through the lens of young woman in West Virginia academia and dance, I have found great enjoyment in my short writings about these experiences, through which I hope to share a bit of this understanding with fellow human beings.
Dillon, Katy. Personal interview. 15 Feb. 2021
Janeiro, Cathy. Personal interview. 14 Feb. 2021
Jean, Sarah.
LeMasters, Mollie. Personal interview. 10 Feb. 2021