Spotlight: Saratoga School of Dance Instructor Peggy Page

Sitting comfortably on the black leather loveseat in the lobby of the Joan Pisani Community Center, Peggy Page has one eye on the magazine she picked up on the table in front of her, and another on the dance studio that’s a dozen feet
away.

She’s waiting for Miss Terry, a woman she’s known for nearly 30 years and who also happens to be her boss at Saratoga School of Dance, to finish her ballet class so she can start hers.

Peggy continues to wait patiently as parents greet their tutu-wearing daughters. This part always takes a few minutes. Peggy glances over, puts down her magazine, and eventually walks toward the dance floor.

More comfortable using CDs than an MP3 player, she turns on the stereo as her devoted students enter the studio, one by one.

She presses play on the stereo. It’s “The Candy Man” by Sammy Davis, Jr. To her students, the performer is clearly dated; it’s something not even their parents grew up listening to.

To Peggy, the music of Sammy Davis, Jr., or, for that matter, Gene Kelly, or even Shirley Temple, sound as fresh as the day it was first recorded. She ought to know--Peggy remembers listening to it on the radio.

Born in 1938 in the state of Missouri, Peggy was destined to dance. At 2 years old, she was active, so active that her behavior would be considered A.D.D. by today’s standards.

Since she “couldn’t sit still,” her oldest brother thought it was wise for her to channel that excess energy into something positive. Once she stepped onto that dance floor, Peggy “couldn’t get enough of it.”

As she entered adolescence, her family since moved to the Bay Area, her mother noticed young Peggy was quite advanced as a dancer given her age.

Her and her mother began looking around at various dancing schools until they settled on Mason-Kahn Studios in San Francisco. There, at twelve years of age,
Peggy was given the responsibility to teach other students.

Exceeding expectations, she was awarded a spot on the school’s chorus line, where, as a teenager, she travelled around the country and danced for hundreds on any particular night.

But, at 21 years old, she found love. Married, she soon became pregnant and would put away her dancing shoes for nearly two decades.

No longer aspiring to become a professional dancer, Peggy went back to college, earned a degree, and worked as a quality engineer in the Silicon Valley.

Three kids and two divorces later, Peggy had turned herself into a self-made woman. Between her career and raising her children, it seemed dancing was relegated to her past. Worse, she couldn’t even live vicariously through her children since none of them showed interest in the art form.

Once settled, by her late 30s, Peggy went back to the studio. She missed dancing but she missed teaching even more. On one occasion, a student  approached Peggy about an opportunity to teach at a new studio called Saratoga School of Dance.

Peggy was intrigued and followed-up with its owner, Terry Phillips, who offered her a position which she happily accepted. Three decades later, the duo continue to share their vast dancing experience with scores of students every year.

Now “retired,” Peggy’s love of dancing and teaching has not diminished one bit. Regardless of whether her student is two years old or ninety-two, she’s convinced she can teach anyone at any age to move their feet--just as long as no one is monopolizing the dance studio.