If I was given a million dollars tomorrow, I would start a non-profit foundation called “A Chance to Dance”. When I was four years old, I started to dance. I have danced for the last fourteen years. Dancing for me was never about being the prima ballerina; it was about having a passion to dance.

 This year, I am a senior in high school and I started a program at the Alpha School, a school for children with special needs. Every Friday, I go there for Dance Club. The students have multiple disabilities but they all love to dance. When I started, I was so happy to be able to teach them dance. We started with the basics of ballet…1st position, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, etc…now they are also learning hip-hop. It is important to these students to receive formal dance instruction. More importantly, I have learned from the students. They have taught me patience, perseverance, and that every person, regardless of abilities or disabilities, deserves a chance to dance.

My goal is to continue to work with individuals with special challenges. If I was given a million dollars, I would buy a dance studio and open my doors and dance floors to children with special needs. My building would be handicap-accessible and I would have a giant dance floor so that even people in wheelchairs could have a chance to dance.  I would start my program here in my hometown to give back to my community in hopes that my passion for teaching dance will spread and “A Chance to Dance” studios will open nationwide.

      On August 29, 2005 a deadly storm left thousands of Americans homeless and hopeless.  If there was a possibility of hope, then it was because of the volunteers and firefighters who risked their lives and the civilians who did their best to aid charity organizations in restoring tranquility in New Orleans.  It was during this time that memories of the most influential person in my life inspired me to use my talent to help my community.  My grandfather was an irrigation inspector in a small village in South India.  In spite of his hectic schedule and meager salary, my grandfather made sure to give back to his community through a non-profit organization known as the International LIONS Club.  Eleven years ago, after witnessing his death, I realized that if there was anything he had wished to pass on, then it was his love for service.  With this thought in mind, I volunteered in hospitals, churches, temples, soup kitchens, senior homes, foster care centers, high schools, libraries, and more.  Little did I know that my most important contribution would come from my talent—dance.  In late August, my dance troop was set to perform a show in Georgia to spread awareness about Indian classical dances. This was when the news of Hurricane Katrina emotionally shook the nation.  That night, I decided to perform the ballet with my troop in various states to benefit the American Red Cross disaster relief efforts.  As a sophomore in high school, I had never dreamed of dancing to raise a grand total of $2000 for such a noble cause.  The whole incident imbued me with a feeling of responsibility to carry on my grandfather’s efforts to give back to the community to build a bigger, better, and brighter future for everyone.

2. Katie Monroe, age 17, senior at Harrisonburg High School

I have always considered myself a dancer, but in the past four years Modern dance has become my favorite form of personal expression. My modern class is unique in that it is heavily student-directed – all choreography comes from us, though we often teach it to each other. The teacher prompts our creativity with Chinese characters, Tori Amos lyrics, glow sticks, and suggestions like "Use each other for balance!" She then sets us free for what is often a full hour of intense improvisation. Modern is always a liberating experience. I channel my joys and frustrations into organic movement, savoring the catharsis dancing provides.  As the year progresses, we pool our individual choreography into a cohesive piece for the recital.  Looking at old recital tapes, I can watch my progression from a cautious, "inside the box" dancer to a confident, emotional, risk-taking artist. 

    Which brings me to my point: If I had a million dollars, I would bring modern dance to teenage girls across the country. I honestly believe that modern has made me a more confident young woman, and I am comfortable with myself and my surroundings in a way many of my friends are not. In a country where girls are plagued by low self-esteem and are often under intense pressure to not only be physically, but also socially and academically perfect, I think a serious effort to incorporate modern movement into the physical education curriculum in high schools would make a positive difference. This program would provide an outlet for girls to express themselves, release stress, get exercise, and ultimately feel better about themselves in the process. Dancers are the answ

If I had a million dollars, I'd buy a lot of dance shoes.  That’s the first thought that spun in my head.  But then my second thought twirled me in a different direction.  I recently visited a Tai Kwon Do class and my mind pirouetted feverishly as I witnessed special needs kids executing tornado turns, combinations and forms to music!  I thought to myself, why don't I see anything like this at my dance studio?  The thought hit me like a grand jete gone wrong!  If I had the money, I could work with local dance studios and develop free dance programs for special needs kids.  Too often we, as a society, overlook these kids and their families’ desire for them participate in every day after school activities – instead we focus on the more mainstream kids as they are marketable and easier to deal with. 

With that kind of money, I could create a “community outreach” program around the Twin Cities where weekly dance classes are free and also small enough to accommodate special needs students and their aides. 

Imagine:  a special needs child experiencing for the first time the rhythmic tapping of their tap shoes on the wooden dance floor or a child with Cerebral Palsy as the soloist at the dance school’s annual recital? 

Imagine a dance class where special needs children would not only learn dance fundamentals, but develop rhythmic skills to reach their own personal best. 

If there was an accessible and affordable dance program that could not only do that, but also encompass their needs to listen and move to music in the way that their bodies are capable of, to develop coordination and rhythm – all the while having fun. 

Everyone should unlimitedly experience the joy and art of dance.

Recently, something happened to me that has made me absolutely sure what I would do with the kind of power a million dollars gives.  A few months ago I lost a power that every dancer loves and perhaps many of us take for granted: the power to control my movement.

            In September, my left arm started to twitch.  I thought it would go away, but it didn’t; it got worse, and spread to my shoulder.  My doctor referred me to a neurologist, and I began the long road of being referred from specialist to specialist.  Meanwhile, I continued to attend my dance classes, but as the twitching spread to my left leg and became more violent, dancing became more and more difficult.  After two months with no answers, my family and I headed across the US to the Mayo Clinic.

            At the Mayo Clinic, I began a long series of doctor visits and very sophisticated medical tests.  While there, I stayed at the Ronald McDonald House where I got to know many wonderful people, many of whom were fighting for their lives.  I made many friends there because we were all struggling together.

            Finally, after almost two months at the Mayo Clinic, the doctors performed a brain surgery that reduced my movement disorder significantly.  Even now, as I’m working hard at physical therapy and dance lessons, the children I met there still influence me.  Because of my movement disorder I learned what it was like to be one of them, even for just two months.  And if I had a million dollars tomorrow, I would use it to help disabled or severely ill children so they can have the medical care they need to get a chance at a normal life and the ability to do the things they love.

If I were given a million dollars tomorrow, I would donate all of the money to Shriners Hospital for Children. Because of the money donated by other individuals, I was able to receive a prosthesis on my left leg, which has enabled me to dance despite being born without a left foot. When I dance, every step, every breath, every beat is an expression of who I am. By donating a million dollars to Shriners Hospital, children throughout the world will be enabled to express themselves in physical activities despite obstacles faced by being without a limb. Prosthetic limbs cost anywhere from $10,000 to $40,000 on average. For eighteen years of my life, Shriners have provided me with prosthetic limbs that have enabled me to do ballet, tap, and gymnastics. I truly love dance and because of the passion I have for dance, I now teach beginners dance. Just watching children’s faces light up when they learn how to shuffle of pirouette, reminds me of how lucky I am to have a prosthetic limb that enables me to dance. That is why I would donate a million dollars to Shriners Hospital; so children across the world could conquer obstacles through the aid of a prosthesis and achieve dreams that some say are unattainable.

George Washington High School

Foreword: This has become a real life aspiration after young Tanzanian dancers from the TunaHaki foundation came to my high school dance company in San Francisco and performed. Not only did they tell us their tragic stories but we also learned their choreography and taught ours as well. It was an inspiring performance that has left me with the desire to visit and dance with them again. 

Imagine being an AIDS orphan living in Tanzania, Africa and growing up in the poverty stricken streets without adequate food and shelter and no hope for the future. The dirt roads lead to more desolate land and the struggle that hundreds of children endure are as solid as the stomach pains they have from malnutrition. Yet the unfortunate children who do not receive daily meals, a warm bed to sleep in, and an education they are entitled to, shine with bright smiles and glow with energy surging from their limbs as they dance to the loud percussions in the newly renovated multi-cultural dance center made possible through a 1,000,000 dollar donation. The fast beats and swaying bodies move to quick footwork as they teach the visiting foreigners through movement, not words. The polished wood floor gleams in the sun and feels smooth under the same bare feet that would walk miles on unpaved roads to water pits. The glass windows illuminate the room and bring a joyful aura to the dance circle, where young children imitate the elders’ dance steps. Above, the state of the art lighting system projects upon each individual and intensifies the strong bold movement of an arm or foot as it pairs with the rhythm and sends chills down the audiences spine. Across the stage and down the hall is the dance studio where Tanzanian and American children laugh as they dizzily practice pirouettes and escape the lifestyle that lie outside of the centers’ doors. The air in the cultural dance center is light and filled with joy and optimism. The center is a safe, learning environment and a symbol of hope for the entire community. The young orphans as well as people of all ages come to learn, laugh, and ultimately dance their troubles away.

Cedar Rapids, IA

8 years of dance experience at National Dance Academy (previously known as Dance of Iowa North) and 6 years at Donna's Dance Place

For me, dancing is more than just putting on a costume and doing the steps, it’s the ultimate form of expression. Dancing has been my one constant in life.  Growing up as only one of two Asian-Americans in my class, I often felt disconnected from my fellow classmates.  I wanted to find a way I could connect to someone without even having to say a word… I found that in dancing.  When the music starts and I feel the crescendos and beats, I no longer feel like a somewhat geeky Korean girl…I am just a girl.

          Someone once said, “We dance for laughter, we dance for tears, we dance for madness, we dance for fears, we dance for hopes, we dance for screams, we are the dancers, we create the dreams.”  If I was given one million dollars, I would help to make someone’s dream come true.

          The Make-a-Wish Foundation has been the premier wish-granting organization since 1980.  Their mission is to “grant the wishes of children with life-threatening medical conditions to enrich the human experience with hope, strength and joy” (www.wish.org).  There are several young girls in the program who wish to be a dancer/ballerina.  I would like to help them achieve that dream.  I’d like her to have the opportunity to take a private lesson from a professional ballerina and for a few hours to forget about all her fears and worries, and to just be a girl.

Dancing has done a lot for me, but most importantly, it has given me a sense of belonging and connecting to others in a way I never thought possible.  It is my only hope that I can help young girls everywhere who wish to be a ballerina and grant them their wish, like dancing has done for me.

Ventura, California

Age 17

I know at least half of the dancers at my studio have been to the physical therapists office and they all come back to the studio with a renewed passion for dance, and not for a good reason.  Let's face it, that place is torture! They push, pull, and prod you until you want to howl in protest.  I would create a Physical Therapy Office entitled Back to the Studio, whose sole mission was to get dancers back on their feet at soon as they were ready. It would be specially made for dancers so that they would be able to talk about the specific and common problems among them.  It would be designed somewhat like a studio with mirrors on the walls and of course a bar.  It would be a more comforting place with warm brown tones on the walls and a chairrail all the way around.  I would try and hire therapists who have been dancers or at least understand the aspects of the dance world in order to help out the patients with the best experience. This would have been extremely beneficial to myself when I had to go through 6 weeks of physical therapy and I think it can help ease the dancers into a less torturous existence while they are unable to dance.