Fame Theatrical Productions – Honey’s School of Dance

Yeah, don’t bother. This place recruited us at a street fair by promising a free acting class. But by «acting» they apparently meant Simon Sez, and by «class» I guess they meant audition. My oldest, who is on the autism spectrum, loves tv and drama more than any human being on earth. It was hard to hide our disappointment when we were told this place is a dance studio. Regardless, he was on his best behavior. It’s a tiny railroad apartment above a dirty staircase. It’s a little hole in the wall. If we wanted dance there are dozens of other places we’d have gone to.
Magically, they morph into what we wanted and promise an acting class. A little skeptical, I was happy I was allowed to watch as my two boys were told to stand up, sit down, touch their nose, act like a snake, act like a rat, act like a snake again (she was just full of ideas) for fifteen minutes. There was nobody else there. She then addressed my younger kid (the one who will do anything you ask him to do as long as you ask him nicely) and «recommended» him for — you guessed it — a dance class! My older one had to sit there doing nothing while she went on about schedules nobody had agreed to with me for five minutes. He was then reprimanded for touching her mirror and told to sit down. When he sat down he was again reprimanded — for sitting down and not pretending to sit down which is what this tired little lady had apparently meant. She then had the nerve to «recommend» — guess! A dance class citing attention span (and 7 years of age with «experience» as a prerequisite for her «acting» class. Right in front of him she described my anxious and eager to please boy as «all over the place» — there was precisely zero regard for his feelings, confidence, interest or her own confusion, fatigue, lack of experience and/​or ability.
At that point we left. And she’s lucky I have Unilocal to vent on or she might have gotten a lot more than just this scorching review.
Save your time.