How I became me

I was an only child. I started out as the youngest child in a household of 10 siblings (I made it 11). My mother worked, my dad was in the army and my grandmother brought me up as one of her own. I was lumped together with the 4 youngest children. Joan was 10 years older than me and her job was to watch out for me, Ken was about 8 years older than me and he would spoil me when he thought of it and then he would dive out of the house to do teenage boy things. That left Colleen and Bob. Colleen and Bob were 5 and 4 years older than me. I was a perfect foil for all their crazy schemes. I was too young to say no and I was too cute to get into trouble. If I couldn't get into trouble then they sidestepped the blame nicely. This cosy, crazy household consisted of the 11 kids, my grandmother and grandfather, my aunt's husband, and various uncles and aunts (sometimes with their families) who were in various stages of employment (or rather unemployement!). It was a big double storey house! 

My Mom was the eldest. At some stage in the various christenings the minister told her that she would sew for the family so what happened she got and held down a job with a large Johannesburg sewing company. She was artistic so all the beading of bridal dresses went to her.

She got the artistic flair from my grandfather. He was a baker specialising in confectionary. He made the most wonderful bridal cakes with fine lattice work. We used to watch him with baited breath as the next discarded funnel (he made his own) was passed on to us to tear open and indulge in the delectable icing still hidden in there.

I had knock-knees and the doctor suggested that I learn Ballet so at the ripe old age of three I started ballet and so began my love affair with dance. I did ballet (loved it!), tap (didn't like how things wobbled), modern (loved it) Greek (Loved it) Traditional (Loved it) Spanish (oh wow!). This continued until I was fifteen and then discovered ballroom and Latin! Great stuff!  

When my dad came home from the army he joined this expanding household and set to studying to better himself. He had come from a poor background – his mother couldn't keep the older children so they were sent to a children's home. His education was not much to brag about but his MIND! Oh boy – his mind – his dreams, his aspirations for me stared the minute he became part of my life. At the age of 4 he was reading me mythology's, when I was 6 I had graduated to Charles Dickens – Oliver Twist was my first novel. He read children's books to me, he read classics to me. He challenged my mental powers. He saw that I enjoyed numbers so when travelling we played number games. He introduced me to Trachteburg's speed system of Mathematics – anything that I did not get in school he filled the gap for me. He introduced me to music – modern and classical. We would sit in the lounge while the rest of the household would be in the kitchen. Lights off, eyes closed and lose ourselves in music.

We had to move where his job took us. So at the age of 6 I left my first school in Johannesburg in term 3 and was enrolled in the only school that would take me for one term in Port Elizabeth. It was a bit of a dicey school so at the beginning of the new year I started grade 2 in my third school. True to form my dad's studies got promoted him promoted again and we had to move to Durban. I started my fourth school in the only school that would take me for 1 term. It was again, a bit dicey so at the beginning of the new year I started standard 1 in my fifth school. And yes you can guess it – promotion again in August – back to Johannesburg! Now however my dad dug his heels in. This was not good for me. I was an only child and I was a lonely child and I was becoming very shy and introverted and I battled to make friends. When the firm wouldn't budge he found another job.

I always stayed in a different area to the school I attended so it was hard to make friends and meet for play dates and homework dates. I was also quiet and a dreamer. I don't think many of my classmates could make head or tail of me! I would come home by bus in the afternoon and settle in my room. Homework would be forgotten – the dreamer would take over. Oh the stories I would weave. I would act them out and I would develop dances to them.