Twin Dancers, One Dream : Rarest of Ballet Students Go for the Big Time

The Melendez twins displayed an innate discipline about dance ever since they started taking classes when they were 10. Sonia and Christiana never missed practice, even on weekends.

The darling, delicate girls would crawl into their parents’ bed Saturday mornings. Time to wake up, they’d say. Can’t be late for ballet lessons.

Their mother wondered if the girls would ever lose interest in dancing, like other kids drop the accordion. She hoped they weren’t working so hard just to please her. Early on, she even tested their resolve by giving them the choice of going shopping instead of going to class at Santa Ana’s St. Joseph Ballet.

No chance. The identical twins were born with ballet in their blood.

“We knew what we were doing,” says Sonia. “I knew we were going to miss out on a lot, but I knew we were going to gain a lot for missing out.”

Not even adolescence could deter them. Boys got tired of calling because the girls were always busy.

“I kind of knew I wouldn’t have time for a boyfriend,” says Christiana, the one with the part in her curly hair. “It would just distract me.”

Besides, says Sonia, “We’d get bored with boys.”

The hard work has paid off for the Melendez twins, now 18. Today, they are scheduled to board a plane for New York City, where they will attend the Joffrey Ballet School, one of the pinnacles of classical ballet instruction in the world.

The prestigious school trains promising young dancers for the renowned Joffrey Ballet of Chicago, as well as other professional dance ensembles. Admission is a rare honor reserved for only the most gifted dancers.

For two Mexican American kids from Santa Ana, the opportunity is almost unprecedented. In 16 years, St. Joseph has served 32,000 students, mostly from low-income, immigrant families. Only one dancer trained by the nonprofit academy--Melissa Young, who joined the Black Dance Theatre of Dallas--has gone professional.

“We encourage very few people to go into dance professionally because it’s sooooo hard,” said Beth Burns, St. Joseph’s artistic director, who founded the school in the basement of a downtown church. “It takes a rare combination of physical talents, mental discipline and just a mature personality. You have to have a rare combination of gifts.”

The Melendez twins embody the success of St. Joseph, established in 1983 to help low-income children gain self-esteem and learn self-discipline through dance. On the eve of their departure, the girls put in their final practice sessions at their school’s fabulous new building on Main Street near the Bowers Museum.

Construction workers were still putting the final touches on the sun-filled, two-story structure as the twins, in white tights, rehearsed with their class. It’s stunning to realize that the distance between those brawny workers and these elegant girls exercising their refined art is just one generation.

The girls’ grandfathers on both sides worked in construction, lifelong laborers in the plastering trade. Their parents, Gilbert and Cynthia Melendez, emerged from the blue-collar ranks to provide a solid, middle-class upbringing for their children.

The family lives in a roomy three-bedroom house at the end of cul-de-sac in Washington Square, one of Santa Ana’s nicer neighborhoods. The home is orderly and impeccable, with a large, relaxing backyard. Gilbert is the compulsive gardener, Cynthia the fastidious homemaker taken to hanging little birdhouses all about.

The couple, who met at Santa Ana High School, had three children, the twins and their younger brother, Gilbert Jr., nicknamed Tito, a wrestler at his parents’ alma mater.

The small size of the family marks a big generational shift too. Gilbert’s mother was one of 16 siblings; Cynthia’s mother was one of 15.

Gilbert earned a bachelor’s degree in criminal justice and sociology from Cal State Fullerton. He now works for Orange County’s housing department, preparing government contracts. Cynthia has been a full-time mom and homemaker.

They’ve been involved parents, coaching sports and shuttling the kids to games and rehearsals. Gilbert serves as a parent representative on St. Joseph’s board.

“Involvement by parents makes this place what it is,” he said Tuesday while his girls went through a numbing round of media interviews after their practice.

The twins looked poised before the cameras, until they had to speak Spanish for Univision. Christiana struggled awkwardly with the language. She stammered, then did a quick plie in frustration. The interviewer mercifully switched to English.

Afterward, their father drove them home in his bulky Ford pickup, his fragile cargo silhouetted in the cab window. From behind, I could see them chatting, heads turned in unison toward their driver. Later I learned he was being briefed about the embarrassing bilingual interview.

At home, we all settled into patio chairs on the family’s backyard porch in the refreshing afternoon. The girls were surprised that I knew they were taking salsa dance lessons. (A buddy of mine had coincidentally spotted them in a beginners salsa class a couple weeks ago.) But I didn’t realize it was a touchy subject at home, since their mother had been prodding their reluctant father to take lessons too.

The fair-skinned ballerinas said they easily picked up the rhythmic, Afro-Latino steps. And why not? The feel for the culture, like their love of dance, comes naturally.

Yet the twins wonder why their heritage has to be the focus of attention in media coverage of their success. “Why are they making such a big deal about us, just because we’re Mexican?” asks Sonia.

But isn’t it good to be role models?

“It’s good,” they answered precisely together.

“Because they see that we’re not what they think, probably,” explains Christiana.

“Not everybody in Santa Ana is poor and into drugs and gangs, or whatever they think,” adds Sonia, finishing her sister’s thought.

Ever since they were little, the twins were drawn to dance with an almost mystical fascination. They loved ballerina figures, devoured ballet books and wore their tutus around the house.

One Christmas at South Coast Plaza, when they were about 5, Sonia and Christiana spontaneously started dancing, delighted with the classical music piped into the mall. They held their hands out and spun around, making shoppers stop to watch and remark how adorable they looked. Later, they displayed the same ability to captivate the public with their artistry on stage.

“You can’t take your eyes off them,” said Burns, the former nun who founded St. Joseph.

The twins are not identical dancers. Sonia is a little more lyrical and expressive. Christiana is faster and more fiery.

Neither of them can ever stop being a ballerina, stretching even while we lingered in the kitchen before I left. Sonia sat at a stool and stretched her arms far behind her back. Christiana leaned against the counter and stretched her muscular calves.

The Melendezes took stock of how they had been enriched through their daughters’ art. The twins opened a window on the world for these two average Santa Anans who listened to rock music and Mexican corridos. They got to travel and learn about classical music. Gilbert became an avid reader of Dance Magazine.

“I never really paid attention to ‘The Nutcracker’ until they started performing,” says Cynthia. “We can relate to those things now because of them.”

At the time of my visit, only four days remained before the girls were to fly away on their own. Their absence will be hardest on their mother.

“I’m so close with them,” Cynthia confides. “They were like my best friends.”

Do they worry now about sending their daughters into a stressful, competitive environment so far from home?

Their father answered without hesitation: “The blessing they have is that there’s two of them.”