The Sugarless Plum: A Memoir by Zippora Karz Page A

their chignons and dreams of sugar plums in their heads had lined the hallways, stretching theirlegs while they talked and whispered between classes. All the summer students were new to the school, and we’d wander the hallways not knowing which studio we were supposed to be in.
    Now I felt like I was the only new kid. Everyone but me seemed to know exactly where they were supposed to be. They knew all the teachers and they knew one another. They were busy greeting one another and catching up after the summer vacation while I stood there feeling totally lost. They were serious and they looked serious, too. Unlike the summer students, who had dressed in brightly colored leotards hoping to attract attention, the winter students were required to wear the basic ballet uniform of black leotards for morning class and white for afternoon pointe class.
    Leg warmers and sweatshirts were allowed only during the first thirty minutes or so when we were at the barre. Another important rule at SAB in the winter was that all students wear pointe shoes for every class, even at the barre and even when we weren’t dancing on pointe, because Balanchine wanted our toes so developed that we would have as much control over them as we had over our fingers. Wearing pointe shoes every day, morning and afternoon, helped us achieve that strength because the shoe itself offered a degree of resistance you don’t feel when you’re wearing practice slippers.
    At Sheila’s and in San Francisco, we wore pointe shoes only every other day and never at the barre. Beyond that, New York was a lot colder than California, even in the fall, and my toes were always freezing. Even as a child I had a circulationproblem, and my toes were colder than anyone else’s. Now I had to get to class as early as possible to warm up my toes before putting on my pointe shoes. Even with warm toes, however, dancing on pointe at every single class took an immediate toll on my calves and I developed shin splints, which was a common injury for first-time winter students at SAB. So, in addition to warming my toes before class, I was icing my shins afterward.
    All this newness was intimidating, and I really missed home. My mother and Romy were calling me every night. While all the people around me seemed so certain of what they wanted—to dance with City Ballet—I didn’t yet know whether or not that was what I wanted for myself.
    The biggest change besides dancing during the day and into early evening was having my academic studies scheduled around dance. I’d wake up in the morning and go to my first period class at the Professional Children’s School, where the majority of high school students were SAB dancers. After first period we would get together and walk the six blocks to the ballet studio in the Juilliard building. There, we’d change into our practice clothes, warm up our bodies and take our first class, which ran from ten-thirty to twelve. Then we’d change back into street clothes and disperse for lunch. After lunch, I’d go to fifth-and sixth-period classes at PCS, then back to SAB for a second ballet class, and on some evenings we would take our third ballet class of the day.
    I was expected to do the remainder of my academic work on my own, meeting with the teacher just once a week to go overassignments. That was also new for me, and I found that I missed the direction and the opportunity to ask questions that I’d been used to in regular classes. Altogether, it was a big adjustment.
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    After the first two weeks, I was told that Madame Gleboff wanted to see me. Walking down the hall, I was sure she was going to say that giving me such a generous scholarship had been a big mistake. I didn’t think I was any worse than the other girls in my class, but I also didn’t think I was outstanding, so it seemed reasonable to me that SAB would have reached the same conclusion. When I got to her office, however,