Students' Testimonials 同学感言:

"The Flame of Youth" By Angela Luo

I once tried Chinese dancing. I was eight years old and lived in Pleasanton. My mom hired a teacher to teach me a Chinese dance because she wanted me to perform at the school's International Night. The dance included fans that fluttered like bright butterflies in the air. Every Sunday, the teacher would come to my house, and we’d step outside to the backyard. Half of the class was consumed by the teacher instructing me on how to open the fans. I could never get my fingers in the right position, so the teacher eventually gave up and moved on to the choreography of the dance. The other half of the class was my mom translating what the teacher said for me. After about a month, I decided to quit. I didn’t understand my teacher, and I still couldn’t open the fan correctly. The dance was weird to me. I always crinkled my nose when I thought of it. It wasn’t until many years later did I understand how important Chinese dancing would be to me.

I fell back into the softness of the car seat, exhausted from the day's skating practice. The summer sun beat through the windows, making my already-warm body even hotter. As my mom started the car, she rolled down the windows, allowing fresh air to whisper through my hair. My mom was the first to break the silence.

“Alice’s mom told me about this great Chinese dance class. I think Alice, Stephanie, and Sarah are going to do it. Do you want to try it?” my mom asked as she quickly glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “Ew, no!” I responded immediately. “Angela, this is a great opportunity for you. This class will help you with your skating.” “Yeah, but it’s Chinese,” I rolled my eyes. “So?” “So, I don’t speak Chinese!” I scoffed. "Just copy what the other kids are doing. And this class will help you learn Chinese," my mom shrugged. "Yeah, but I still don't want to do it! It's embarrassing!" "Embarrassing? How is it embarrassing?" "I don't know; it just is, you know?" I wouldn't say it, but the truth was that I wasn't proud of my culture. Chinese dances were weird. They were so different than ballet, jazz, hip-hop, or any kind of dance in America. I didn't want to take the class not only because I didn't understand Chinese, but also because I felt embarrassed. Why would I want to dance to weird music with weird costumes and weird props and weird dance moves? If anyone found out about it, I would be so humiliated. Plus I didn't want to try anything new. I was afraid to reach out of my comfort zone. What if I wasn't good enough? What if I embarrassed myself because I couldn't do some of the moves? All of these things ran through my head as I kept refusing the idea of going to that class.

But eventually, my mom made me go. On the very first class, I wore a tank top, dance shorts, and a frown that obviously illustrated my feelings toward the class. Of course, my frown turned upside down as I realized that so many of my skating friends had come, too. But inside, I kept my guard up. Every time we did some weird move, I would add that to my mental list of why I should stop the class. I would cringe at the strange music, mock the awkward arm positions, and complain about how I couldn't understand anything. All in all, I tried my best to detest the class because it was so different than my previous ballet experience.

I had no choice but to return every Saturday afternoon. Soon the teacher, Xiaopei, required us to wear a uniform. The dress mocked me, challenging me to put it on. An ugly burnt red leotard with a flimsy, girly, child-like skirt that horrified me and scorched my eyes.

The classes progressed, and choreography on a new Chinese dance started. As I had anticipated, it was just as weird as everything else I had done in the class. No way was I going perform a Chinese dance in front of people! I was a poor little animal stuck in a cage, forced to do these odd moves and tricks.

My friends made the classes bearable. We would laugh as we fell trying new tricks, and we would cheer for each other every time we accomplished something. Sometimes we'd make up funny chants to help us remember the choreography. Other days we tried convincing Xiaopei to get new uniforms; we even made a Facebook group for it. With my friends by my side, I gradually let my guard down.

I started to believe that the class was fun. "The Flame of Youth" was actually a modern Chinese dance, full of energy and life, representing the spirit of teenagers. It was powerfully positive. I learned so many more new moves than what I would have learned in ballet class.

Before I knew it, the recital came. My class and I had practiced well, and we were ready. We wore costumes so bright that it hurt my eyes to look at them. It was only when we ran on stage to the words "The Flame of Youth" that I realized how important these people were to me. I had created stronger friendships and made new friends. But most of all, I had found a new family.

And so I performed "The Flame of Youth" with my new family. We rocked the stage. "The Flame of Youth" was so amazing and successful that we were invited to perform at many other events: China Night, to celebrate Chinese National Day; Miss National Asia Pageant; the NCCCAF International Martial Arts and Dance Invitational Competition; Friendship Across the Ocean Second International Art Festival; and many more. We got to dance in various gorgeous theaters for people of all ages and ethnicities. We were also interviewed by a local TV station, and we were invited to perform in China. This would never have happened without Xiaopei's hard work and patience with us. Through these events, I learned so much about my culture and where I came from. I'm no longer ashamed of who I am; I'm proud to be Chinese-American. And when I see non-Asian people taking lessons from Xiaopei, my smile gets bigger on the inside.

I would never have experienced any of this if it weren't for my mom. By trying something new, I gained so much. My new family taught me friendship, and my dance class taught me that Chinese dance can be fun and beautiful. I learned that the diversity and the different cultures are what make America strong and unique. One shouldn't be ashamed of differences. Also, trying something new can lead to the journey of a lifetime. And through this experience, I greatly broadened my horizon. I opened my mind to accept new ideas, and I opened my arms to embrace differences. Though I may still laugh at the differences in Chinese and American culture, I know that inside, I will always be proud of being an ABC: American-Born Chinese.

《成人舞蹈班的同学们》 By 庄晓姿

第一学期结束了，认识大家也有三个月多了，在此发表一通感慨，纯属乱侃。认识的时间不长，如有得罪，还望海涵。为隐私起见，以下采用各位自己挑选的艺名（干咳一下，一把年纪了还整艺名，有点雷耶）。

言归正传！咱高风亮节，先从自己下手。

当初报名来跳舞还是我妈促成的。我那时所有的业余时间都在论坛上混。我妈看我整天灰头土脸坐在电脑前狂敲，觉得相当不上道。语重心长地告诫我：中年妇女也应该注意仪表，女人的健康美丽高于一切。

我以为自己听错了，在我二八年华，貌美如花的时候，我妈可不是这样说的。那时我妈的口头禅是外貌不重要，女人最重要的是要有本事，要自尊自重。我就这样被洗脑多年。几十年过去，当我凋零成中年悍妇的时候，我妈告诉我，外貌对一个女人很重要。

这句话刺激了我的中枢神经，于是痛下决心重拾童年时代的爱好，报名来跟老师学跳舞。印象中跳舞的同志们一般特显年轻，而且自我感觉超好。我的目标是：把身上的肥肉炼成瘦肉，瘦肉炼成肌肉，争取今年40，明年38。

下面聊聊各位酸妹妹，一个一个来，排名不分先后。（请按右边滑条看更多内容）

臧歌

臧妹妹是东北佳丽，不仅人长得美丽，胃口也不差。上次一起吃自助餐发挥得相当出色。虽然频频抱怨牙齿不好，仍然坚持整完两大盘。

臧妹妹天性豪爽，主动报上自己生辰八字，还逼着同学们一起报。基本上想知道的都打听得差不多了，可惜还是漏掉一些同学，也漏掉敬爱的晓佩老师。臧妹妹的决心是不留下任何死角，把所有老师同学的年龄都挖出来的，然后按年龄籍贯列表散发。 值得一提的是臧妹妹是滑雪高手，传说中的double diamond skier，可以滑任何高难雪道，通常情况下只滑 moguls/bumps and cliff trails. 反正在弯曲 Non-ABC women 里，她称第二的话，没有人敢称第一。

唐人美

每次看到唐妹妹，就想起一个成语：顾盼自怜.唐妹妹走到哪里都会令人眼前一亮，常常面带微笑，处于自我欣赏状态。

顾盼自怜不是唐妹妹的错，因为唐妹妹确实是绝色美人。不夸张地说，照唐妹妹这样的级别，年轻时上中戏北电也完全够格。凭俺的目测，唐妹妹当年在学校肯定是校花级别的，很好奇当年她老公是怎么把校花追到手的。扼腕一下，这么美丽优雅的妹妹流落到民间实在是太可惜了。

网上流传的说法是：如果在工科大学看见一个大美女，你就会长生不老。信不信由你，唐妹妹就是学工的。照这个说法，她老公天天看她，看几十年，搞不好会得道成仙。

毛小窦

小时候学跳舞的时候，老师的教导是：收腹，挺胸，抬头。这个教导现在仍然适用，对俺这样的级别，挺胸绝对有好处，运气好的话，会越挺越大。但是按这样的标准要求毛妹妹，俺都替她捏把汗。毛妹妹绝对是呼之欲出的级别，彻头彻尾的实力派。每次看见毛妹妹俺就很赞：真给咱亚洲妹妹长脸哪。

显摆一下，在我抚育下一代的时候，也曾经过一把波霸瘾。那时奶多得不行，胸前一度很赞。照当时的日产量，同时养2，3个孩子都没问题。这要搁在旧社会，还可以去应聘奶妈。

如果下次看见毛妹妹在跳舞，千万要focus 她的美丽舞姿，不该看的地方不要看。

谭笑

谭妹妹是我的邻居，她儿子和我女儿一度两小无猜。虽然小孩很热络，我和谭妹妹都一直装深沉，仅维持在点头之交，直到不约而同来“追求艺术”才熟悉起来。

谭妹妹是我们这里面年龄最小的。更雷的是，这么甜美可人的妹妹居然是学物理的（立马想到居里夫人）。当年大学班上就她一个女生，被男同学们宠得一塌糊涂。她老公追她的时候，从海选到10强4强2强，到最后惊险出线，狠狠地受了点磨练。

谭妹妹来上课时她老二才刚6个月，身段已经恢复得相当好了。 年轻就是不一样，我孩子几个月的时候我还是水桶腰。有天上课的时候，谭妹妹“趴”一个倒立，相当震撼，没有点内功是不敢倒立的，严重景仰一个。

甄五妹

五妹算是弯曲华人圈里的名银，能说会写，相当全面。第一次知道五妹是在前年三谷地区的春晚，五妹是主持。当时就留下深刻印象：年轻靓丽，而且中文英文俱佳。

五妹是个有点自恋的妹妹。当然，像五妹这种先天条件灰常优越的妹妹，不自恋说出来都没人相信。

五妹平时贲含蓄一人，High起来也很有爆发力，属于宜静宜动的典范。总的来讲，五妹给人的感觉是落落大方。举止非常得体，谈吐极有分寸。五妹其实年龄不大，但是很有范儿，一群人中间，特别出挑 (没有办法，名银就是不一样)。

对了，五妹是attorney，你们没事别惹她，惹急了，后果很严重。

王博士

江湖上把女博士戏称为“灭绝师太”。传说中的灭绝师太是峨眉派掌门，性格勇猛刚毅，一心钻研武学，罔顾儿女私情。 把女博士和灭绝师太划等号，是明目张胆的诽谤和歧视。王博士就是最好的反例。事实证明，王博士在专研论文的同时，也积极发展儿女私情，成功觅得佳偶。

王博士是名校博士， 爱好广泛多才多艺。 业余时间除学跳舞，还学唱歌，弹古筝。王博士特贤惠，俺们好几个同学吃过她烤的饼干，做的豆沙包。风闻王博士的老公也很模范。他们家要在国内，至少是省级五好家庭。

我老公从前的美好愿望是找一个德才兼备的贤妻良母，看来这辈子是没戏了(主要是目标订得过高)。他下辈子的梦想，王博士的老公这辈子就提前实现了。按旧时的说法，要祖坟冒青烟才能娶到这样贤良通达的老婆。

甄婉儿/h3>

婉儿倒是人如其名，温婉娴静，自称是五妹的表亲（反正一表三千里）。

看见婉儿会忍不住狂想： 这等温柔美丽的妹妹竟然让白哥哥抢走了，关键时候国男们都干什么去了！ 按理说肥水不流外人田，回头一想，如今是Globalization，爱谁谁。婉儿的女儿继承母亲的美貌，再加上混血的催化，完美得简直得令人嫉妒。

婉儿笑容亲切，表情稍带点羞涩。外嫁的妹妹中，羞涩的还真不多见，主要是白哥哥夸起人来完全不留余地，长期被甜言蜜语包围，要保持冷静的头脑几乎不可能。婉儿是个例外，定力超强，至今还保持娴静本色。

顺便说一句，俺到现在还没完全对老美的甜言蜜语免疫。每次evaluation，老板都是唾沫横飞，一阵乱夸，听得俺飘飘然，沉浸在喜悦中好一阵子后， 才慢慢吃透老板的真正意思。简直太迟钝了，爆汗一个。

吴迪，朱丽娅，晓竹

这三位同学有几个共同点：

首先，她们都是“劈叉帮”的，咱们班目前就这三位同学能劈叉，韧带非常柔软，一把年纪了，说劈就劈，一字摆开，很强大。

吴妹妹是我的亲密老乡，时不时卿卿我我，聊聊知心话。刚来上课的时候，我曾经很憧憬地告诉吴妹妹，希望苦练1年后能劈叉。吴妹妹朝俺眨眨眼，说她现在就可以了，我差点崩溃，太打击我的积极性了。

晓竹妹妹虽然生坏绝技，但是特低调，总是跑得远远的去劈腿，生怕俺们受刺激。晓竹妹妹的骨头超软，有时候都怀疑她有木有骨头。最近才知道晓竹妹妹也是学物理的，还是那句话，漂亮妹妹学物理太浪费资源了。

朱妹妹很大方，大清早一进Gym就“趴”地一下劈下去，震得周围的菜鸟们一愣一愣滴，立马引起围观。朱妹妹对自己的要求非常严格，那天recital，她在一边狂练，一刻都不消停，看得俺心烦意乱。结束以后，朱妹妹还沉痛反思，说做错一个动作。我是这么看的：中年妇女，才学3个月，还是业余，做错是正常现象，没做错就是超水平发挥 (大家都来鄙视我吧)。

晓佩老师

晓佩老师的简历很震撼，随便在网上一google，就出来1000多条，不服不行。总结一下简历，就四个字：艺术精英。

艺术精英驻扎俺们三谷地区，开门收徒，传播精英种子。

当晓佩老师的学生，反应不能太迟钝，心里素质也不能太差。晓佩老师要求严格，动作没到家是不会让你很爽滴。新动作都会录下来放到网上，方便智力退化的大妈们复习。晓佩老师对每一个学生都本着不抛弃不放弃的原则，一丝不苟，精心调教，恨不得把各位业余大妈统统upgrade N个级别。

说几个晓佩老师的特点：

精力充沛

聪明，有灵气

认真，投入

专业素养一流

有神彩，特别是跳舞的时候，光彩照人，极具感染力

开朗，喜欢张开嘴大笑（我以前以为艺术精英都是掩口葫芦而笑）

Recital的时候，五妹说一句话让我很有感触：”She makes everybody shine”. 是晓佩老师让俺们这群中年大妈重新找回昔日的光彩。在此大谢晓佩老师，啪啪啪啪啪啪啪啪啪啪啪啪啪啪 （鼓掌3分钟）