Tendu

Tendu is a movement, not a position, the ballet teacher tells us as we slide a right foot, toes pointed downward, along the wooden floor. Socks cover my feet. The others have ballet slippers with leather soles. My curved arch is evident, the toes pointed almost to cramping. Good, the teacher says, you're pointing the toes as far as they'll go. Tendu, short for battement tendu, means stretched. It's a bent foot on a straight leg that glides along the floor. My breath tightens as my foot sputters from front to side to back and then back to side to front. Switch to the left foot. There is nothing natural about how the body is used in ballet. Not having taken a ballet class since I was four years old, I remember now the discomfort of these exercises. At the end of class I am uncertain about returning. The teacher smiles and applauds my effort. I go back the next week with pink ballet slippers, the straps not yet sewn in place. The teacher shows me how to work around the sewing by tying the straps under the arch. The slippers stay in place during tendu, plie, reveille, jette and reverance. It might be time to go shopping for a leotard and tights.