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I was chatting the other day with a friend about the “good ol’ days.”  I used to pull out the Michael Jackson Thriller record, put it on my sister’s turntable, get out a hairbrush, I mean microphone, and do everything humanly possible to pretend I was Michael Jackson. Then there was Madonna. Then Paula Abdul. The list goes on. I would have so much fun performing for my stuffies and making sure I knew how to lip sync all the right words.  I told my friend about how my mom also used to sing along to so many of her favourite songs from the 50’s and 60’s in her room as a child.


Remember that old saying, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me”? We were all taught this saying as kids, and wouldn’t it be nice if it were true? Unfortunately, I’ve yet to meet anyone who has never been hurt by the words of another, yet we still speak unkindly, even cruelly to ourselves.  


About a year ago, while running freelance classes at Roxy’s Dance Studio, I began teaching ‘Family Flamenco’. This family-friendly class spanned across three generations and has been one my favourite classes to teach. For me (and many others) flamenco is often a family affair. My mother has always made my flamenco costumes; my father, who is relatively new to flamenco practice, recently accompanied me as a flamenco singer and bassist in two performances; and it isn’t out of the ordinary to see my nieces and nephews tapping along during my classes or rehearsals. Even though I am the only flamenco devotee out of my parents and sisters, flamenco has, nevertheless, permeated into our family life.


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