For anyone who gets to know me, they discover rather quickly that my hips are constantly swaying, my feet are usually tapping, and my arms rarely sit still while music is playing. The editors at the Sentry, perhaps despite their best efforts, have gotten to know my dancing habits rather well throughout our production nights.

I’m a dancer, and not the subtle type. When I took lessons— from age four to 15—I was taught that the bigger the better. Buns, tutus, smiles, stage presence, leaps, attitudes, arabesques: go big, or go home. I did ballet, tap, jazz, celtic, clogging, lyrical, and hip-hop; I rarely made it home for dinner.

I can’t stay still. I never will be able to.

The part of my life dedicated to a marley-floor studio and endless pairs of leotards, however, has long passed. I was barely starting to drive when my long-time dance mentor sat my parents and me down to tell us that eventually I’d have to choose between the worlds of team sports and dance. I retired my pointe shoes for good, despite my mom’s pleas for reconsideration.

When you love something, it never really leaves your heart. Putting time, effort, and dedication into an aspect of your life has lasting effects. When Jordan, our web editor, blasts music on Tuesdays, there’s no doubt that I can’t stay still. I never will be able to.

Dance was my first love. When I’m truly happy, or comfortable, it seeps into my life here and there, in doses both big and small.

As I get older, the passions I’ve accumulated have followed. My identity has been molded by amazing experiences that have built my character, and will always be a part of who I am. I was a dancer and a softball player, then a student and a writer. Now, I’m a managing editor.

By the time I graduate and retire my status as an academic, I know that I’ll hold a few of my loves with me always. I’ll never shake the rhythm in my heart, and I’ll never lose my appreciation of this newspaper— the staff, our mission, and the skills it’s given me to succeed.

—Savannah Nelson

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