The Scariest Moment

Working toward a BFA in dance, I had one of the worst experiences of my life. This eye-opening event reformed my view of the world, changing it altogether, and sent me on a much different course than I believed I would take after graduation. The memory is burned deep into my psyche but always at the forefront, producing a bonafide terror in my heart. As safe as we think we are, there will always be hurdles, traumas, or events that will trigger us deeply, and send us running toward safety, a fact not to ignore. Instead of big city lights, due to this frightful event, I remained close to home and family.

In my last year in college, our dance troupe traveled bringing productions to many junior high and high schools throughout our state. In the fall of 1992, we performed our current repertoire in NYC given to us by guest artists invited into our dance program. Touring was a way to fill the prerequisite needed to achieve a performance degree, and a fantastic way to bring fine arts to the young, and teach diversity and self-expression while reaching areas without access to arts. In my mindset, this was my chance to visit New York City and get acquainted with city life, where I envisioned a thriving future under Broadway lights - a lifetime goal.

Flipped Topsy-Turvy

The first school we performed in was in Queens, a junior high school that had many 9, 10, and 11-year-olds. So very eager to observe and participate in movement and questions, our show was a success for these students. Spirits still high from our first performance, we arrived at the second school in the Bronx. As we entered this high school the mood quickly flipped topsy-turvy and stole any adrenaline previously coursing through our tired bodies. Security guards processed long lines of students entering for the day. Wide-eyed and wary, we were guided through metal detectors, our bags rummaged through, and privacy was taken with a pat down.

First time traveling out of my comfort zone, I had never had someone body search me before and it was quite unnerving, feeding a level of unknown anxiety I now hoped never existed. Hesitantly passing through, we went on into the gated stairway and up and into corridors where the sound of clinking metal and locking gates caused an inner panic. Stale thick air hung tight and right away I sensed a lack of oxygen. My heart raced, the tension in my neck grew, and my breathing strained. Cordoning off other areas of the school, these gates fragmented hallways. The further in, the less freedom we had, the less air I felt around me, and it was terrifying me. It was as if I had descended into prison, yet it was an educational institution - which totally confused my mindset and crippled any common sense I had about the situation at hand. At the time, I didn’t understand how this could be construed as safety.

Not catching my breath

Eventually reaching the dressing room, I tried and tried to settle my nerves and breathe, but this panic had its hold. With a hit from my inhaler, we began preparing for our 2-hour production. Over the next 45 minutes, we prepped our makeup, stretched, and prepared for our performance, where a slight calm returned - my anxiety eased a bit as I began to focus on movement, tracking through the current event in my mind.  Only it returned quite quickly upon receiving notice the audience was ready for us. Very flustered and light-headed, I set out through to the hall, down 2 more gated hallways, and around a corner toward a packed gymnasium.

Our performance went on without a hitch, except...my asthma continued to act up. At the performance end, I could not find a way to catch my breath. I hid behind the bleachers and crunched over in a ball. I took many breaths in and out to no avail. Imagery was not helping. Breathing techniques minimally worked. Sips of water only choked me up. Grounding myself was futile. I needed my inhaler but forgot it at the most inopportune moment in my life. I left it behind 2 locked gates in the dressing room.

Panicky and sweaty, I quickly reached the educator in charge of opening the gate. With my urgency, I felt she should have seen my state of mind, but blindly she told me to "calm down." I explain in short bursts I am having problems breathing - and her response, tactless and dismissive, was - "oh just take a breath and give me a bit." My panic was now desperation and I raised my voice. I didn’t want to provide a sideshow, I just urgently needed those gates open. I received a stare and glare that was dagger-like, but the gate was opened.

Most dramatic yet simplistic

Forgetting my inhaler could have been devastating, yet it turned out fine. It is an event seemingly most dramatic, though not. As one of my major triggers, it is endlessly embedded in me with such intense fear, helplessness, and mental anguish, yet truly simplistic a problem. And, it may seem overly ornate, but it is simply an outcome brought on by the sound of metal clanking or a stale hallway smell, a marked comment, a movie, or...tragic event ...and the anxiety begins. It is a memory very hard to bury and quite easily triggered.

The haunting truth of it all is that it foreshadows a time when the young need to live behind this sense of security, where simple everyday liberties are taken away mainly under the general notion of keeping the vulnerable safe. It has come to pass, this treacherous affair - with the state of the world as it is today where the world's children are continually victims in schools and the public realm. Far too many devastating events in recent years, a place where it seems no child will ever be safe again have taken place, necessitating this lockdown type of environment. Back then, it was totally foreign a concept to me.

Helplessness and dis-ease: My scariest asthma attack

My one experience in the time I was hoping for expanded insight into my future career became a deciding moment. Being locked down is meant to protect, but for me, it became a scene of trepidation, dismissiveness, control, and disregard by those who are there to protect and guide. In hindsight, it is a careworn glance into a future ripe with intense physical and mental conflict, where the violence coming to pass in later years would be devastating, especially for our youth in schools - a devastating period of political and social unrest.

As fragile as I may seem, it is the seed of debilitating panic and fright embedded in my very soul with regard to my asthma and having my freedom in question. It turned my hopes and dreams into helplessness and dis-ease. To this day, I notice locked doors with chains where ever I go. I begin to scan for exits and grab my inhaler tighter. I have learned to not leave it behind because I never know what situation I'll be in. And, I cling to family and friends closer. Living with anxiety and PTSD is extremely difficult. Pair it with anxiety-induced asthma, the trauma involved is severe, at least in my case. In ways that are quite different from others' tales, this was without a doubt my scariest asthma attack.

What is your scariest asthma attack? How did it change you? Did you move ahead with plans, or change the outcome?