Earlier this year, I took on a new hobby that my younger self would’ve found strange. “Look at him,” I could hear past-me scoff. “Isn’t this a little… pretentious?”
But there I was: a 32-year-old brown man learning ballet. With one hand on the barre and my feet in the first position, I was ready to prove past-me wrong.
Before you start imagining what this story might be about, let me tell you what it isn’t. This isn’t a story of a kid who grew up secretly watching ballet, wanting to feature in the next production of The Nutcracker. Nor is it a story about “finding community” in my new home in Sydney.
Truth be told, this isn’t a story about blending in at all, but learning how to graciously stick out.
I moved from Mumbai to Australia in 2018, eager to embrace a new way of living. But I couldn’t just leave my suitcase full of Indianness at Sydney airport’s baggage carousel. For one thing, I’d packed my pressure cooker and some spices in that suitcase – leaving it wasn’t an option.
This isn’t a story about blending in at all, but learning how to graciously stick out
Every immigrant has, at some point, tried to blend into the Australian culture. For some of us, this means doing violence to the word “afternoon” until it becomes “arvo”; for others it involves replacing a morning chai with a flat white. But over the years, I’ve realised one thing – no amount of flat whites should dilute my Indianness. In fact, the more I “blend in”, the more I stand to lose my individuality. This was when I began giving myself permission to point my toes and learn to stand out.
At the start of 2023, after busting my hip-hop moves at a Sydney dance studio, I heard a classical rendition of one of the ballads from the Game of Thrones soundtrack coming from an adjacent studio. There, I saw people galloping, gliding and waltzing agilely across the room to the hauntingly beautiful music. At that moment, I was mesmerised. The routine was breathtaking, and the ballet dancers looked lithe and strong. That was the feeling I wanted to inhabit.
Noah in the ballet studio. Source: Supplied
Soon afterwards, I signed up for an introductory ballet course. When I entered the studio, I wasn’t surprised to see the mix of students in the room. I was – as they say – one of a kind. I was the only person in class who was brown and male.
The routine was breathtaking, and the ballet dancers looked lithe and strong. That was the feeling I wanted to inhabit
I grew hesitant. In fact, I was sure that past-me would’ve gone to the back of the room, trying not to make his presence felt. But that day, I went and stood at one of the barres in the centre of the room. I decided then and there that I wouldn’t hold back from living fully, even when I was in the clear minority.
If living as an immigrant has taught me anything, it’s that there is beauty in sticking out. I have slowly learnt to become more comfortable with inhabiting spaces where most people didn’t look like me: be it on my morning runs in the eastern suburbs or when I go for a swim at the local pool. I have been practising this over the past few years. And while it can feel uncomfortable to be the odd one out in a room, I know it’s a sign of strength to not shy away from taking up space.
I decided then and there that I wouldn’t hold back from living fully, even when I was in the clear minority
Time and again, in the dance studio and out in the world, I remind myself of this. I stand confidently and get ready to gallop across the room.
Ballet is a show of grace, something that doesn’t often come easily to a person of my gender and age. But it’s been a few months now, and I am enjoying this art form, mostly because I am learning a lot about myself – understanding musicality, knowing how high I can lift my legs or how strong my feet are.
If you are a brown boy inspired to learn ballet, let me tell you one thing: ballet isn’t easy. It may come naturally to you, but it sure as hell didn’t come naturally to me. It takes a lot of courage to stand in a room full of people and try (or fail miserably) to do pirouettes.
Looking back, every decision I’ve made to step outside my comfort zone in the past five years has led me to the ballet studio. While I may fall time and again doing a pirouette, I know that one day I will stick that landing. And when that happens, watch me as I chassé toward my next challenge.
