Wednesday, July 9, 2008
I guess I cant
People always ask me, "So... How was it being on So You Think You Can Dance?" Usually I always respond with the same old bullshit, "It was a really great experience." I use to say, "It was a really great opportunity." But that would be a flat out lie, and I'm usually not that great at pretending things are just alright, so I quit saying that shit about 3 years ago.
So this blog is dedicated to the many strangers, friends, and even relatives, who ever wanted to know how I REALLY feel about my experience on the show. This is going to be a lot and its also going to be very personal, so please beware. These thoughts have never been spoken and have always been kept in a very deep dark and lonely dungeon somewhere in the back of my hollow mind. I'm taking a chance if you will.
Now my memory can get somewhat crumbled, much like the shit you see at the bottom of a potato chip sack, but Ill do my best to remember the series of events.
Emily, (my good friend/boss lady), either called me or text me one day and told me about a dance show that no one really knew much about, because it would be the first of its kind and the producers didn't really have an idea of the entire synopsis. I'm pretty sure it was a call, because I didn't have a sidekick then, and who wants to text without a sidekick? Really. All anyone knew is that it was for dancers, it was a competition something similar to American Idol, and it was an open door for dancers to shine, because finally there would be a spotlight on a dancer and not some lame artist. Now she had heard about it from one of our mutual friends who would be auditioning as well.
Not really having an idea of what I would be diving myself into, (and I mean ALL of myself, like literally), I scraped up enough change to fly to the LA audition. I slapped together some lame ass combo i did days before and called it my "solo" if you will. I went to LA, stood outside like the other idiots for several hours, and waited for it to be my turn. We all waited in that big room, checking out the competition, practicing, most of us dodging the camera, due to shows like, The Real World and Survivor, trying to keep ourselves from being exploited in some way. We were clueless, but all waiting around hoping that some way we could use this opportunity to become history in dance.
My group comes up next. I'm standing in the half circle waiting on my turn to freestyle. I think they are about to play... Surely not... The damn Blackeyed Peas. Not them again. I put on my dancing shoes, kick and turn my big ass around as if my last name depended on it. YES!! I got the go!! I get to go to the left with the group of people who didn't get cut. NEXT STEP. Solo round. I'm so nervous. Ive never had to do a solo. not like a good one, that competition kids do. You know? Where someone teaches them a routine, they have private lessons on it all year, and then compete it enough times to be able to really understand the meaning of progression in one's self. I'm nervous. But in the back of my mind, something is telling me, I'm suppose to be on this show and no matter how good all the "practiced soloists" are, I'm going to be on T.V.. I'm still nervous. I have on a polo shirt and some cut off sweats. Meaning: I look a damn mess. Ok. Its my turn now. The sounds of the fake ass harp that plays before Fantasia sings, "If you don't want me then don't talk to me." I dance. It was whack. I was terrible. I hate my mom for even having sex with my father at this point. For two reasons, mainly because the thought of it is gross and secondly because I was born. inappropriate? Yes. The old ugly guy who they claim is the reason for American Idols existence says, "You look a little heavy. Do you think that is why it looked so hard for you to dance up there?" My eyes are about to swell up with tears. I told Eric's ass that I was getting way too big, and he told me that i looked fine. That I was just thick, and that's how I'm suppose to look. Guys like it, its sexy. Damn Pizza Shuttle!! But I don't let any tears fall, I don't want the cameras to see that I'm weak, hell i don't want the judges to see. But the other two non-dancing ass British judges say I can stay, and 2 is better than 1. NEXT STEP. Partnering and choreography. I have this in the bag. I changed my pants to some shorts Kelsey had of her brothers, thinking that if they are baggier the judges won't think I'm so fat. I MADE IT!!
I go back to Oklahoma, I diet a little. Try to gather up some costumes of students, because I don't have enough money to buy a dance wardrobe for me to wear while I'm on the show. I'm feeling good though. I have packed up every item i ever had in life, including my bably blanket and head out to LA, to compete with the TOP 50. I enter the room and their are a room full of artists. Good or bad, I was intimidated. It's different being a dancer in Oklahoma, theres only a few, and sometimes the pond can seem really comfortable for a playa ass shark like me. But here, everyone is like me. sacrificing. breathing dance. trying to make it to the TOP. A week of hell. Dancing 8 hours a day, and feeling judged every second. As if my life was on the line every moment. But like anything, I made it through!!
Now there I was, apart of the TOP 16 of whatever the show was going to be called. I, Destini Rogers, from Oklahoma, who's dance teachers wouldnt give a second glance at, was apart of the TOP. We all meet and greet. KeKe LaLaing... We are then instructed to take pictures for the website, and film dancing for the opening credits, that are still playing this day. and I realized something.. I'm the biggest person, besides ALLEN on the show. All of the girls are all super skinny. They re all wearing hot pants, and I'm wearing one of my student's costumes that is slightly too small and frankly looks a hot mess on me. I had tried on 15 different things, but nothing seem to be as stylish as everyone else and it surely didn't define my personal style and who i was. i didn't feel like I was Destini at all.
This was it.
THE moment.
At that moment.. I knew that I had been defeated. The bright light that was in my heart at the audition, was dim, and damn near blown away by the quick feet of the talented dancers who I thought would walk all over me. I stayed strong, tried my best to show that I was strong and confident. But when I look back at that picture we took that day that was on the website.. The head shot for my bio. I could see that moment in my eyes. Just a look of despair and sadness. I have no money, I have no clothes, I have no dance style to call my own, I'm fat, and I'm black. At that moment, the show had become a chore, not a competition, because I knew that I couldn't compete. This had become something I had to finish out, like the last place person in the race. The problem with myself is that I am my own worst critic. I know my mistakes, but when I looked in the mirror to make corrections, It wasn't just one teacher standing there telling me what it was I needed to fix, it was 13 million viewers a night!!!!
Friends told me everyone back home was so proud. they were even having viewing parties. My family, was so proud. I had cousins crawling from the wood works of hell calling to wish me look. Sometimes when people would call me, write me, or send me emails, I wouldn't even respond. Because during that time of my life I was at my weakest and loneliest moments. No fans. No ridiculous signs or posters. No family. No real friends. They all seemed so far away. I think my stomach felt the same way it would feel if someone would have called and told me my mother died. Meanwhile, I was moving up and up. Every ones smiling in each others face, putting on a show for the T.V., but we've all made up in our minds who we think is horrible and doesn't deserve to be on the show. Were all secretly hoping each other gets the boot. Finding clever ways to make the audience love us. Throwing up little hand signals during the part they show the 1800 numbers, begging viewers to send the calls our way. We were dancing 8 hours a day. Fighting with our partners while trying to hold it together for America. Sandra's gone. Snow.Now I am up for termination. Me and jamile's so called great hip hop number wasn't impressive enough. Melody and I are up for termination, this being Melody's 3rd time.
I didn't even say a prayer. I knew it was my time. People ask me, "You were pissed, because you knew you and Jamile's hip hop dance was good, and you shouldn't have been in the bottom?" I usually smile and say yes. But really I was upset at myself. Just for not being the best I could be. I mean I could blame it on all of the things like, always working and not having enough time to take class, never having time to work out, or being able to do things for myself to better myself and being more prepared for the show. But it just wasn't my time and I figured there probably wont be another. So to answer that question, no I wasn't mad because of that, I'm mad cause I was defeated. By own self.. I was voted off the next day.
The conclusion of my FEELINGS about the show..
I met a lot of really awesome people. I made a lot of friends. I got to do things a lot of people cant say they've done. Even now, dancers I feel are brilliant, haven't made it that far. Every now and again someone recognizes me from the show and they hit me up on myspace or notice me in the mall. That is always rewarding. But my heart..
I feel like the show gave a very immature and very watered down definition of who I really am. I always come across to people as a bitch and that I have a slight attitude problem and for the most part I do. I even throw that bad side of me up first just to keep anyone who will hurt me afraid and away from me. This mechanism will work in the real world but on TV it doesnt. First impressions are important, Destini!! I thought I was a little bit more complex then the Destini, on So You Think You Can Dance. Most people don't even know that I'm a pretty good dancer, let alone a dancer that can do more than just hip hop, most people don't even know that I'm a pretty creative choreographer, most viewers don't even know I exist, and I think that in the end, the show and I just had a really really bad break up. I can't even look at his picture anymore. I threw them all away. Even the ones, with just me in them. I don't even wanna see myself in a picture that was taken the time he and I were together. Now even his friends refuse to talk to me, even after, we had so many laughs. They wont even look my way. I cant even talk to his mom without wanting to cry. And the thought of what we could have been is what kills me the most. And I'm still holding on to it. I sometimes question if just maybe that Destini is really just that Destini. I'm lost. even after all of this time. I really don't even know who I am anymore. How do you get any higher than that? Where do I go from here? With no fulfillment. How do I fight to regain my dignity? When I still have so much to learn and do. people don't understand, until they get to that place. A place where you feel like an ultimate failure. I mean I still live life everyday. Acting like I know God has a plan for me...
So honestly, how i feel is.. FUCK SO YOU THINK YOU CAN DANCE!! It ruined my life. So don't ask me anymore, especially while I'm at work trying to get this cheese, and not somewhere famous, where I should be! Jerk!
So this blog is dedicated to the many strangers, friends, and even relatives, who ever wanted to know how I REALLY feel about my experience on the show. This is going to be a lot and its also going to be very personal, so please beware. These thoughts have never been spoken and have always been kept in a very deep dark and lonely dungeon somewhere in the back of my hollow mind. I'm taking a chance if you will.
Now my memory can get somewhat crumbled, much like the shit you see at the bottom of a potato chip sack, but Ill do my best to remember the series of events.
Emily, (my good friend/boss lady), either called me or text me one day and told me about a dance show that no one really knew much about, because it would be the first of its kind and the producers didn't really have an idea of the entire synopsis. I'm pretty sure it was a call, because I didn't have a sidekick then, and who wants to text without a sidekick? Really. All anyone knew is that it was for dancers, it was a competition something similar to American Idol, and it was an open door for dancers to shine, because finally there would be a spotlight on a dancer and not some lame artist. Now she had heard about it from one of our mutual friends who would be auditioning as well.
Not really having an idea of what I would be diving myself into, (and I mean ALL of myself, like literally), I scraped up enough change to fly to the LA audition. I slapped together some lame ass combo i did days before and called it my "solo" if you will. I went to LA, stood outside like the other idiots for several hours, and waited for it to be my turn. We all waited in that big room, checking out the competition, practicing, most of us dodging the camera, due to shows like, The Real World and Survivor, trying to keep ourselves from being exploited in some way. We were clueless, but all waiting around hoping that some way we could use this opportunity to become history in dance.
My group comes up next. I'm standing in the half circle waiting on my turn to freestyle. I think they are about to play... Surely not... The damn Blackeyed Peas. Not them again. I put on my dancing shoes, kick and turn my big ass around as if my last name depended on it. YES!! I got the go!! I get to go to the left with the group of people who didn't get cut. NEXT STEP. Solo round. I'm so nervous. Ive never had to do a solo. not like a good one, that competition kids do. You know? Where someone teaches them a routine, they have private lessons on it all year, and then compete it enough times to be able to really understand the meaning of progression in one's self. I'm nervous. But in the back of my mind, something is telling me, I'm suppose to be on this show and no matter how good all the "practiced soloists" are, I'm going to be on T.V.. I'm still nervous. I have on a polo shirt and some cut off sweats. Meaning: I look a damn mess. Ok. Its my turn now. The sounds of the fake ass harp that plays before Fantasia sings, "If you don't want me then don't talk to me." I dance. It was whack. I was terrible. I hate my mom for even having sex with my father at this point. For two reasons, mainly because the thought of it is gross and secondly because I was born. inappropriate? Yes. The old ugly guy who they claim is the reason for American Idols existence says, "You look a little heavy. Do you think that is why it looked so hard for you to dance up there?" My eyes are about to swell up with tears. I told Eric's ass that I was getting way too big, and he told me that i looked fine. That I was just thick, and that's how I'm suppose to look. Guys like it, its sexy. Damn Pizza Shuttle!! But I don't let any tears fall, I don't want the cameras to see that I'm weak, hell i don't want the judges to see. But the other two non-dancing ass British judges say I can stay, and 2 is better than 1. NEXT STEP. Partnering and choreography. I have this in the bag. I changed my pants to some shorts Kelsey had of her brothers, thinking that if they are baggier the judges won't think I'm so fat. I MADE IT!!
I go back to Oklahoma, I diet a little. Try to gather up some costumes of students, because I don't have enough money to buy a dance wardrobe for me to wear while I'm on the show. I'm feeling good though. I have packed up every item i ever had in life, including my bably blanket and head out to LA, to compete with the TOP 50. I enter the room and their are a room full of artists. Good or bad, I was intimidated. It's different being a dancer in Oklahoma, theres only a few, and sometimes the pond can seem really comfortable for a playa ass shark like me. But here, everyone is like me. sacrificing. breathing dance. trying to make it to the TOP. A week of hell. Dancing 8 hours a day, and feeling judged every second. As if my life was on the line every moment. But like anything, I made it through!!
Now there I was, apart of the TOP 16 of whatever the show was going to be called. I, Destini Rogers, from Oklahoma, who's dance teachers wouldnt give a second glance at, was apart of the TOP. We all meet and greet. KeKe LaLaing... We are then instructed to take pictures for the website, and film dancing for the opening credits, that are still playing this day. and I realized something.. I'm the biggest person, besides ALLEN on the show. All of the girls are all super skinny. They re all wearing hot pants, and I'm wearing one of my student's costumes that is slightly too small and frankly looks a hot mess on me. I had tried on 15 different things, but nothing seem to be as stylish as everyone else and it surely didn't define my personal style and who i was. i didn't feel like I was Destini at all.
This was it.
THE moment.
At that moment.. I knew that I had been defeated. The bright light that was in my heart at the audition, was dim, and damn near blown away by the quick feet of the talented dancers who I thought would walk all over me. I stayed strong, tried my best to show that I was strong and confident. But when I look back at that picture we took that day that was on the website.. The head shot for my bio. I could see that moment in my eyes. Just a look of despair and sadness. I have no money, I have no clothes, I have no dance style to call my own, I'm fat, and I'm black. At that moment, the show had become a chore, not a competition, because I knew that I couldn't compete. This had become something I had to finish out, like the last place person in the race. The problem with myself is that I am my own worst critic. I know my mistakes, but when I looked in the mirror to make corrections, It wasn't just one teacher standing there telling me what it was I needed to fix, it was 13 million viewers a night!!!!
Friends told me everyone back home was so proud. they were even having viewing parties. My family, was so proud. I had cousins crawling from the wood works of hell calling to wish me look. Sometimes when people would call me, write me, or send me emails, I wouldn't even respond. Because during that time of my life I was at my weakest and loneliest moments. No fans. No ridiculous signs or posters. No family. No real friends. They all seemed so far away. I think my stomach felt the same way it would feel if someone would have called and told me my mother died. Meanwhile, I was moving up and up. Every ones smiling in each others face, putting on a show for the T.V., but we've all made up in our minds who we think is horrible and doesn't deserve to be on the show. Were all secretly hoping each other gets the boot. Finding clever ways to make the audience love us. Throwing up little hand signals during the part they show the 1800 numbers, begging viewers to send the calls our way. We were dancing 8 hours a day. Fighting with our partners while trying to hold it together for America. Sandra's gone. Snow.Now I am up for termination. Me and jamile's so called great hip hop number wasn't impressive enough. Melody and I are up for termination, this being Melody's 3rd time.
I didn't even say a prayer. I knew it was my time. People ask me, "You were pissed, because you knew you and Jamile's hip hop dance was good, and you shouldn't have been in the bottom?" I usually smile and say yes. But really I was upset at myself. Just for not being the best I could be. I mean I could blame it on all of the things like, always working and not having enough time to take class, never having time to work out, or being able to do things for myself to better myself and being more prepared for the show. But it just wasn't my time and I figured there probably wont be another. So to answer that question, no I wasn't mad because of that, I'm mad cause I was defeated. By own self.. I was voted off the next day.
The conclusion of my FEELINGS about the show..
I met a lot of really awesome people. I made a lot of friends. I got to do things a lot of people cant say they've done. Even now, dancers I feel are brilliant, haven't made it that far. Every now and again someone recognizes me from the show and they hit me up on myspace or notice me in the mall. That is always rewarding. But my heart..
I feel like the show gave a very immature and very watered down definition of who I really am. I always come across to people as a bitch and that I have a slight attitude problem and for the most part I do. I even throw that bad side of me up first just to keep anyone who will hurt me afraid and away from me. This mechanism will work in the real world but on TV it doesnt. First impressions are important, Destini!! I thought I was a little bit more complex then the Destini, on So You Think You Can Dance. Most people don't even know that I'm a pretty good dancer, let alone a dancer that can do more than just hip hop, most people don't even know that I'm a pretty creative choreographer, most viewers don't even know I exist, and I think that in the end, the show and I just had a really really bad break up. I can't even look at his picture anymore. I threw them all away. Even the ones, with just me in them. I don't even wanna see myself in a picture that was taken the time he and I were together. Now even his friends refuse to talk to me, even after, we had so many laughs. They wont even look my way. I cant even talk to his mom without wanting to cry. And the thought of what we could have been is what kills me the most. And I'm still holding on to it. I sometimes question if just maybe that Destini is really just that Destini. I'm lost. even after all of this time. I really don't even know who I am anymore. How do you get any higher than that? Where do I go from here? With no fulfillment. How do I fight to regain my dignity? When I still have so much to learn and do. people don't understand, until they get to that place. A place where you feel like an ultimate failure. I mean I still live life everyday. Acting like I know God has a plan for me...
So honestly, how i feel is.. FUCK SO YOU THINK YOU CAN DANCE!! It ruined my life. So don't ask me anymore, especially while I'm at work trying to get this cheese, and not somewhere famous, where I should be! Jerk!
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