Margie Fishman

The News Journal

Jamie Meyer can't make out her reflection in the mirror, but she still moves her willowy limbs in perfect unison with the other ballerinas.

The longtime dancer with First State Ballet Theatre is legally blind. At age 13, Meyer was diagnosed with a rare genetic disorder, Stargardt disease, a progressive retinal disease that impairs central vision while leaving the peripheral vision in tact.

Meyer, now 20, can't read her rehearsal schedule or see her instructor's softly rounded elbows in fifth position. When the lights go dark between scenes, she grabs another dancer's hand to exit the stage.

Nobody is the wiser.

And that's how the professional ballerina/part-time dance instructor/part-time Friendly's hostess likes it.

No pity. No special treatment.

Apart from her inner circle, she kept her eye condition private until the ballet company hosted its season preview party in October.

Standing on stage with the other dancers, all of whom were sharing personal stories with the audience, Meyer announced that she is legally blind. She said she hoped to inspire others to overcome their challenges.

This coming weekend, Meyer will perform as a maid, snowflake and Arabian dancer in Wilmington's annual holiday tradition of "The Nutcracker." She appreciates the high-energy, whimsical and, yes, nonsensical story of toy soldiers springing to life.

Reunited with the Delaware Symphony Orchestra and Wilmington Children's Chorus, the dancers will perform the original choreography to Tchaikovsky's score with technical, physical and emotional rigor, says Pasha Kambalov, First State Ballet's artistic director.

Kambalov, who has taught Meyer since she was 7 years old, praised her tender demeanor and solid work ethic. The ballerina has been honored with several dance scholarships.

"I'm not treating her any different," Kambalov says. "She's handled it so well."

Mature beyond her years

Meyer, like other ballerinas, resembles a teenager in her purple leotard and sparkly headband.

But when she speaks, it is the voice of a mature, sensible and self-reliant young woman.

Growing up in north Wilmington, Meyer was a quick learner, according to her mother and teacher Michelle Snyder.

As soon as Meyer could talk, she would remind her mother not to forget her diapers or sippy cups before heading out to play dates. In preschool, she chatted up the teachers while the other children ran outside to play.

At age 3, she began taking ballet lessons at the Brandywine YMCA before moving on to combination dance at the Delaware Dance Company.

But those noisy tap shoes gave her a headache, her mother remembers. Meyer was insistent: "I want to do ballet."

She enrolled in a private ballet school in Newport founded by Kambalov and his wife, Kristina; it eventually became First State Ballet Theatre. Taught in the Russian tradition, Meyer trained five days a week. Snyder, a chemical engineer, homeschooled her.

When Meyer turned eight, however, her mother noticed that her reading speed had slowed considerably. When she read aloud, she would miss tiny words like "and" and "the," yet wouldn't stumble on a zinger like antiestablishmentarianism. Books, like tap, gave her headaches.

A trip to the eye doctor turned up nothing. Meyer tested at 20/20 vision. A neurologist found no evidence of a brain tumor.

But Snyder knew something was off. She pushed to see a specialist, who diagnosed her daughter with a focusing disorder and prescribed visual exercises for one year.

After that, the family thought the situation had improved until a trip to the opera. Sitting in The Grand auditorium, Snyder remarked about the screens on either side of the stage, providing English translations for the Italian.

Her daughter couldn't see the words. Or the screens.

When Meyer was finally diagnosed with Stargardt disease at age 13, Snyder broke down. Unknowingly, she and her husband were both carriers of the recessive gene. Meyer's two brothers have no eye problems.

Snyder's mind raced. Would her daughter, a devout Catholic, lose her faith? How could Meyer raise a child if she couldn't read the label on a medicine bottle?

"I didn't know about how to exist in this world as a blind person," Snyder recalls.

Her teenager consoled her.

"I was already coping with it," Meyer explains. "What's the point of self-pity. It's only going to hold you back."

'Out-of-body experience'

There are few examples of blind professional ballerinas. The most famous is Alicia Alonso, a Cuban prima ballerina and choreographer who had partial sight in one eye and no peripheral vision.

Now 92, Alonso was known for intense drama and technical purity on stage. She trained her partners to be exactly where they were needed and had set designers install strong spotlights in different colors to help guide her movements. A thin wire stretched across the edge of the stage as a marker.

Like Alonso, Meyer relies on other dancers to help determine her stage position.

Today, she has 2200 vision in her left eye and 2400 in her right. What a person with 20/20 vision can see at 200 to 400 feet, Meyer can only see at 20 feet. There is no corrective procedure available.

"Usually, when I take an eye test, I see the first letter and that's it," she says.

As a result, Meyer doesn't drive and lives at home with her family in Glasgow. When she wants to put on makeup, she uses a mirror with 10x magnification. To read a price tag at a store, she must snap a photo with her phone and enlarge it.

Meyer also has Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, and the discipline and repetition of ballet have helped her focus both physically and mentally, she says.

Her favorite ballet is "Swan Lake." She compares it to an "out-of-body" experience, one that trumps both pain and fatigue. Plus, all the white tutus line up in a harmonious row.

Fortunately, Meyer, the second-longest company member, learned the technical foundation of ballet before her sight was compromised. Occasionally, she forgets that she is blind.

"I lead my life as I would whether I have (sight) or not," she explains.

As a ballet teacher, she makes a point to walk around the room so she can hone in on her students' needs.

She is not sure what she will do after her ballet career runs its course. She enjoys cooking and interior design, combining isolated elements that flow beautifully. She hopes to have a family someday.

In the meantime, she plans to celebrate her 21st birthday on Christmas Eve with her best friend and a bottle of wine. All she wants for Christmas are new leotards.

Before heading out on stage, Meyer stows her Miraculous Medal necklace – a gift from her grandmother – and prays that she won't forget the steps.

Meanwhile, her mother prays that her daughter won't get hurt. She still gets choked up watching Meyer's beautiful extension, a sense of calm washing over the determined ballerina.

Here, her daughter can't see the audience but she knows they're there.

Ballet "forces her to be the best she can be," Snyder says. "Some kids would wilt and crumble. Jamie has thrived."

Contact Margie Fishman at 302-324-2882, on Twitter @MargieTrende or mfishman@delawareonline.com.

IF YOU GO

WHAT: "The Nutcracker," presented by First State Ballet Theatre

WHEN: Saturday, Dec. 20 at 2 p.m. and 7 p.m.; Sunday, Dec. 21 at 2 p.m.

WHERE: The Grand Opera House, 818 N. Market St., Wilmington

TICKETS: Adults, $28-$48; students, half off adult price; seniors and groups, $5 discount. Call 1-800-37-GRAND or visit http://www.firststateballet.com (discounts are not available online).