I'm so thankful for dance because if I had grown up with just

When Motsi Mabuse proclaims, “I’m so thankful for dance because if I had grown up with just the bitterness of the very hard childhood we had, and I’d never experienced the love of the dance world, then I probably would have been a very sad person,” she speaks with the voice of one who has found salvation in art. Her words carry both sorrow and triumph, for they reveal a childhood marked by hardship, yet redeemed by the healing rhythm of movement. What could have become a story of despair was instead transformed into a song of resilience, because she discovered a realm where love, expression, and joy conquered pain.

To be thankful for dance is to acknowledge its power not only as an art but as a lifeline. In Mabuse’s world, dance was not a pastime; it was sanctuary, it was medicine, it was the path away from the shadows of her upbringing. Where bitterness might have taken root, dance sowed seeds of hope. Where sadness might have dominated her spirit, dance gave her purpose, beauty, and belonging. In these words, we hear the eternal truth that art can rescue the human soul from the weight of suffering.

History has known others who found their redemption in art. Consider the story of Maya Angelou, who, after the trauma of childhood silence, discovered her voice through poetry and song. What might have been a lifetime of sorrow became instead a fountain of wisdom for the world. Or recall Viktor Frankl, who in the darkness of the camps clung to meaning through thought and spirit, proving that even in suffering, the soul can rise above despair. Just as they found light through creation, so did Mabuse find her strength in the embrace of dance.

The word bitterness in her statement holds great weight. Bitterness is the poison of the heart, the slow erosion of joy by memories of pain. Many who endure a difficult childhood find themselves trapped in such bitterness, unable to move beyond it. Yet Mabuse reveals that through the love of the dance world, she was able to keep her spirit alive. Dance did not erase her past, but it gave her the power to transmute pain into beauty, and sadness into performance.

Her words also carry a message of gratitude for community. When she speaks of the “love of the dance world,” she honors not only the art itself but also the people who welcomed her within it—the teachers, the fellow dancers, the audiences. It is in community that art reveals its fullest healing. Alone, she might have been consumed by grief, but embraced by the dance world, she discovered belonging and inspiration. Gratitude, then, becomes the thread that binds her to those who carried her spirit forward.

The teaching here is profound: in the midst of hardship, seek the outlet that gives your soul breath. It may be dance, or it may be music, painting, writing, or service. Whatever it is, hold it fast, for it can turn bitterness into strength and sadness into creation. And when you have found such salvation, be thankful, and share your gratitude by inspiring others to find their own refuge.

So I say to you, children of tomorrow: do not let hardship make you bitter. Search for the art, the craft, the calling that can redeem your spirit. Embrace the love of those who walk that path with you, and let gratitude be your constant companion. For as Motsi Mabuse teaches, it is not the pain of our beginnings that defines us, but the thankfulness with which we turn our struggles into dance, our sadness into song, and our suffering into strength.