💫I was 18 years old, and had a week to 19 when I took the documents from the Choreographic College. 3 years have passed since that moment, but I am still a graceful ballerina with excellent stretching 💫
As you know, at the moment in my life I do not have any professional education. All that I have behind me is 9 classes, and a burned certificate for this merit.
Leaving the College of Culture was difficult for me, because before that I had another abandoned college behind me – medical. But if I gave up medicine without regret and reproaches of conscience, then I regretted leaving choreography for a couple of years. I regretted it because it was mine, and I was at the peak of my success in training as a choreographer. I staged good performances, I was put in a soloist in the ensemble, the teachers had high hopes for me, and somewhere ahead of me was a red diploma.
But in an instant it all disappeared from my life. According to my desire.
Then I did not understand with logic whether I was doing the right thing or not, I just felt that my studies were suffocating me. I hoped that by changing medicine to choreography, I could breathe and learn, but it turned out that it’s not the profession you are studying for, but education. All education, whether it be the Faculty of Philology at Moscow State University, be it Social Disciplines in a pissing college in some village, is geared towards raising unfree people.
I remember how we plowed in the hall for 12 hours, and still everyone was always unhappy. Not skinny enough, not smiling enough, etc. Bureaucracy, arrogance and eternal ass-licking of educators is not my lifestyle. And I was right.
Now, after 3 years have passed, I realized by logic why I had such feelings in educational institutions in principle. Why am I an uneducated girl from the village. And why am I now not working for 15 thousand in some kind of recreation center Solnyshko.
Now I do choreography when I want, and not when I want to. Mary Ivana, who does not care about your health, your sore knees and your period. She is glad that yesterday from the concert at which you danced, she earned money in her pocket. But today she will still tell you unhappy that you didn’t smile at the audience well enough and will give you 4 in a year and ruin your long-awaited red diploma.
I don’t know about you, but I am proud of my fearlessness before life and social norms of society. I am proud that I am an uneducated kolkhoz woman who could not even finish a single sharaga. And I am proud that at the age of 21 I was able to not be a nurse wiping pissing after a festering grandfather, and not to be a teacher trying to teach children that no one needs are liked by people on stage.