When I was three years old, my mom promptly enrolled me in dance class. There is video evidence of me out there as a “cuddly duck” alternating between hugging myself while wiggling and patting my feathered behind on cue to music that chimed “cudd-cudd-cuddle-y, pudd-pudd puddle-y.” Despite something naturally embarrassing about it (much like those standard naked bathtub pictures), I now have to admit, it is surprisingly cute.

From my first shuffle step on stage, I fell in love with performing. Beyond dance recitals, I enlisted my sister Jodie and neighborhood friends Kylie and Katie to create our own productions. First was a choreographed routine to an entire Cabbage Patch Kids record. Next, I rigged curtains, props and lights to perform an American Girls’ play in my basement. To me, it was a big production, even though the entire audience consisted of two parents clapping proudly. Oh, then comes the famous synchronized swimming events and, with the dawn of the camcorder, filmed series including stuffed-dog shows, fashion shows, dances, news sketches and commercials.

In high school, I began teaching dance to preschoolers and kindergartners. My favorite of all my little performers were the “Broadway Bananas,” who tapped to a song of the same name. They were decked in ridiculously puffy orange and green costumes and ended the dance in the “banana splits.” Too precious.

After graduating high school, I went on to college to study my other passion, journalism. However, dance was still in my blood. One day freshman year, I received a card addressed to me from my Granny. She was dying from brain cancer and I could tell from her wobbly penmanship that she was fading fast. I opened the envelope saw it was addressed to “Little Star.” She called me that as a child and I was touched that, despite the tumor invading her senses...she remembered.

After a 10-year hiatus from studying dance, I decided I was going to do something fun for myself and took up tap again. I was taught a routine choreographed by Mallory Graham. One day my instructor was questioning one of the steps and she told me she would ask Mallory. I thought she meant she would summon his spirit or something. I had grown up tapping Mallory Graham routines and attended Dance Caravan conventions, where he was an instructor for 25 years. When my teacher said Mallory had cleared up the issue with the step, I kept my mouth shut, for fear of saying something stupid, like “are you crazy?!” It never crossed my mind that this tap master could live “in my own backyard.” I went home and Googled Mallory Graham and was shocked to find out he in fact lives in Winston-Salem and teaches in High Point.

Needless to say, I am personally excited about this month’s cover article, “Tap like crazy!” by Pamela Beamon on page 13, which brings light to Graham’s life story, from dancing on Broadway to producing Miss Mississippi pageants. I hope you all enjoy it and are inspired to break out those jazz hands!

Kelly Riddle, publisher
Latitude Magazine