I remember the first time I was called a dancer. My first year taking ballet as a teenager, my first teacher, Sherrie Siebert, told all of us in the class we were dancers.

Only I didn’t feel like it.

I was surprised to be called dancer by my modern dance teacher at the University of Alabama, Edie Barnes, when I went into her officer to inform her I was going to have to drop her class because I cracked my ribs.

I caught me out of the blue. I felt like I just stumbled around in her class.

And I have a lot of respect for her. She took a mediocre dance program that was modern dance-oriented, and turned it into one of the most respected ballet-led programs in the country.

I remember being in class one day a couple of years ago when Mr. O asked the class full…