1. It taught me to think critically and creatively.
Whenever I’m teaching a class or choreographing, I’m constantly engaged in problem solving. How can I help this student perfect that step? How can I clarify this rhythm so it will be clearer to the audience? How I can adjust this formation so the step is more visually appealing? I apply this same kind of logic to many of the challenges that I face in my everyday life, especially in my work as a public school teacher. The job of a choreographer, I was once told, is to make all your dancers look good. In whatever role I’m playing—a teacher, choreographer, artistic director, writer, colleague—I always think about how I can bring out everyone’s strengths and help us all work together and “perform” like a team.

2. It taught me to have confidence in myself and my goals.

When my dance teacher called me about auditioning for the sixth season of “So You Think You Can Dance,” I had no intention of attending. Then she told me that I should be outside my house and ready to go at 5:30 in the morning, because she was going to pick me up and bring me to the audition. I’ll never forget seeing her trademark bright blue car coming down the driveway: An early riser she is not, but there she was, and she drove me into Boston (!) for what, I learned later, was one of the smartest career moves I ever made. Whenever I doubted my technique, my choreographic visions, or my suitability for a career in dance, my teachers consistently encouraged me. As if by osmosis, their confidence eventually became mine and taught me to trust in what I was doing.

3. It taught me to appreciate my roots.
I’m grateful that dance has connected me with so many amazing people and places: The incomparable backdrop of the Inside/Out stage at Jacob’s Pillow; Rosie Perez buying me a brownie at NYC’s Baryshnikov Arts Center; teaching in Versoix, Switzerland, with a stunning view of the Alps; choreographing for Candy Apples Dance Center, of TV’s “Dance Moms” fame; watching my students perform alongside a live band in Manhattan. But nothing keeps me more grounded than teaching every week at The Dance Inn in Lexington, MA, where I grew up. Whenever I’m there, coaching kids in the same rooms where I learned how to shuffle, I am reminded how those very rooms, floors, and barres not only hold special memories of their own, but made so many more memories possible. And now I get to make memories happen for so many of my own students there. My favorite? Bringing some students backstage at Broadway’s “After Midnight” to meet the cast. I will never forget the looks on their faces!

4. It taught me the value of sharing.
While doing some research on Fred Astaire’s choreography, I contacted a local colleague who generously offered an hour of her time, at no cost, to teach me some steps from “The Barkleys of Broadway.” A few months later, I went to NYC to learn a solo from one of my favorite tap teachers. When the lesson was over, I pulled out my checkbook—and was rebuffed. He was happy to share the choreography with me so that it could continue to have a life of its own and so that I could share it with others. The importance of sharing time, energy, steps, memories, and so much more with my students and colleagues remains a cornerstone of what I do. Even if just one student shows up to class, I’ll always have something to share. In fact, one student did show up to a class of mine a few years ago, and it turned out to be the last time I saw her before her passing not long after. I’m glad we shared that time together.

5. It taught me to trust in the process.
A colleague once told me that there’s a ten-year learning curve in tap dance. Whether or not that figure is accurate, there’s no doubt that achieving “mastery” in this field is the result of a tireless process: daily rehearsals, summer intensives, intense jam sessions, open classes, watching footage … it can all seem, at times, as though it’s going nowhere quickly, or that progress is painfully slow. But my own journey in dance, from student to teacher to choreographer to writer to artistic director, and my students’ journeys that I am privileged enough to be a part of, have taught me that if you trust in your teachers, your training, your abilities, and your future, everything will come together. Keep the rhythm going!