Dani Cordero

Much of my childhood was spent in the studios at Chico Creek Ballet (formerly Wall Street Dance) with the teachers and students (some who are still dear friends) of Chico Community Ballet. It was a home away from home, one that offered unique experiences that were uncharacteristic of your typical childhood pursuit. Dance, particularly ballet, is a practice, an art, an identity that I still carry with me today, more than twenty years after hanging up my pointe shoes. 

I was/am a dancer. Four classes a week, rehearsals on the weekend, workshops in the park, performances at community events, and those coveted moments at Laxson Auditorium performing Alice in Wonderland or something more avantgarde in Keeping Dance Alive. And while my dancing today is mostly isolated to my kitchen or a sandy beach, I still identify as a dancer. The creativity, enthusiasm, discipline, strength, determination, and even muscle memory is everlasting. 

I have spent most of my adulthood as an entertainment public relations executive, predictably a vocation surrounded by artists of every discipline. While I became a successful business owner, something was missing. A void lingered within. It recently occurred to me that the creative passion, the fire ignited those many years ago over bleeding toes and Chopin’s Nocturne Op. 9 No. 2 was too intense to be extinguished. It was time to feed the spark again, so I started to write. The idioms that now escape may only find a home on my computer or they may turn into a New York Times best-selling novel, either way, that unadulterated love I remember has returned. I am ten years old again, ravenous, exploding with creative joy. Chico Community Ballet introduced me to the arts, creativity, culture, and life beyond the restrictions of a tiny town. It was the single most impactful experience in my young life and I would not be who I am today without it. I am forever grateful. 

 — Dani Cordero