To see the alternating American and Russian flags fluttering in unison on both sides of Geneva’s famed Pont du Mont Blanc – the city’s signature white swans peacefully plying the clear lake waters below – is to imagine the two countries represented by those national symbols seeing eye to eye and finding common ground on pressing global issues.

But looks, as everyone knows, can be deceiving.

The much-anticipated summit held in this city at the base of the Swiss Alps Wednesday between U.S. President Joe Biden and Russian President Vladimir Putin – the final event of Mr. Biden’s weeklong European tour and first overseas trip as president – had little sense of unity or common purpose.

Yet despite the absence of broad smiles, Russian bear hugs, or even a concluding joint press conference, U.S. officials say the two leaders’ three-plus hours of talks laid the groundwork for areas where the two adversaries can work together in the interest of both world powers.

“It’s always better to meet face to face,” Mr. Putin said while seated alongside Mr. Biden before their first meeting. On that score Mr. Biden agreed, declaring at his closing press conference, “There is no substitute for face-to-face dialogue between leaders, none.”

The Russian president, at his press conference, said there was no “hostility” between the two leaders. He characterized their discussions as constructive, and said he considers “the glimmers of confidence I saw between us the principal result of this meeting.”

As a sign that both sides see a need to try to put tense relations back on better footing, the two presidents agreed to return their respective ambassadors to Washington and Moscow. Both governments had recalled their top diplomatic representatives earlier this year.

In addition, the two leaders tasked their foreign policy teams with reviving the moribund dialogue between the two countries on two critical issues: “strategic stability” concerning nuclear stockpiles and proliferation, and cybersecurity.

Putting Russia on notice

U.S. officials had said the summit, which some in the United States judged premature and likely to primarily serve Mr. Putin’s interests, would allow Mr. Biden to put Russia on notice that malign activities – like cyberattacks on critical infrastructure – will be met with a swift response.

And indeed, Mr. Biden announced that he presented his Russian counterpart with a list of 16 “critical infrastructure” areas – including water systems, energy, and hospitals – that should be “off limits” and warrant agreed protections.

The summit, in an 18th-century villa with views of Lake Geneva, had little of the historic heft of another Geneva summit 36 years ago between presidents Ronald Reagan and Mikhail Gorbachev. That meeting is now seen as having set the stage for the end of the Cold War.

No one expects Wednesday’s summit to have such legs. In fact, some worry it might end up doing little more than elevating Mr. Putin’s global standing.

Alexander Zemlianichenko/Reuters

Russian President Vladimir Putin gestures as he speaks at his post-summit news conference at Villa La Grange in Geneva, June 16, 2021.

Even if the summit managed to reach some consensus on Afghanistan security after a planned U.S. exit, “that’s still not big game-changing stuff, so I’m not sure what we get from something that really elevates Mr. Putin when he hasn’t changed a single behavior,” says Heather Conley, a former deputy assistant secretary of state for European affairs in George W. Bush’s administration.

The White House insisted the summit was about giving “security and stability to our relations, but the Kremlin’s entire policy is based on insecurity and instability, so it’s hard to see how we get from there to alignment on any issues,” adds Ms. Conley, now director of the Europe, Russia, and Eurasia Program at the Center for Strategic and International Studies in Washington.

Yet while Mr. Biden has no illusions about the challenges of working with Mr. Putin, White House officials say, he concluded that airing differences and testing the waters of engagement was still the better course.

Biden’s three basic aims

The shorthand for what senior aides said were Mr. Biden’s three basic aims in sitting down with Mr. Putin might read: arms control, cyberattacks, Aleksei Navalny.

As a senior administration official told reporters Tuesday, President Biden wanted the summit to, first, have laid the groundwork for a set of “taskings” for areas where sustained U.S.-Russia cooperation can “advance our national interest and make the world safer.”

At the top of that list sits arms control. Although the two leaders did earlier this year extend the New START Treaty for five years, nuclear proliferation experts worry that unless sustained and comprehensive arms reduction talks get underway soon, the world’s two largest nuclear powers could find themselves in an arms race with no limits by 2026.

Second, Mr. Biden sought to clearly lay out for Mr. Putin the areas of vital national interest where “Russian activities that run counter to those interests will be met with a response,” the official said.

One of those areas is the cyberattack activity that – whether launched by Russian government entities or by criminal malware gangs that the U.S. says are harbored in Russia – has hit both U.S. elections and vital infrastructure over the past year.

And third, Mr. Biden envisioned the summit as an opportunity to explain to the Russian leader his vision for American values and how they fit in his conception of U.S. foreign policy.

That includes U.S. support for human rights and democratic governance around the world. It is in that context, senior aides say, that Mr. Biden intended to cite the case of Mr. Navalny, the jailed leader of a prominent opposition group who was poisoned last year (by Russian agents, the U.S. has concluded) and nearly died.

At his press conference, Mr. Biden insisted he had advanced all three criteria for the summit, but added that the “proof will be in the pudding.”

Patrick Semansky/AP

President Joe Biden puts on his sunglasses toward the end of his news conference after meeting with Russian President Vladimir Putin in Geneva, June 16, 2021.

For his part, Mr. Putin had made it clear in the run-up to the summit that while he was happy to engage with Mr. Biden on points one and two, he considered domestic politics off limits.

“Views on our political system can differ,” Mr. Putin told a group of international journalists he met with last week. But “give us the right, please,” he added, “to determine how to organize this part of our life.”

On the other hand, the Russian foreign minister, Sergey Lavrov, also told journalists recently that Mr. Putin intended to bring up the “human rights” of the protesters at the U.S. Capitol Jan. 6.

The two leaders did not appear to narrow their wide differences over human rights. Mr. Biden said he explained why cases like Mr. Navalny’s and American values are linked, but an unfazed Mr. Putin dismissed the political opposition leader as a lawbreaker and foreign agent.

A “strategic stability” reset?

On arms control, both sides say they are interested in resetting the concept of strategic stability that governed post-Cold War arms control diplomacy and agreements – until crumbling and falling into disuse over recent years.

The problem, arms control experts say, is that the world’s two biggest nuclear powers remain far apart on just what 21st-century strategic stability should mean.

“Both sides have expressed a common interest in renewing a serious dialogue on maintaining strategic stability, [defined as] ensuring that neither side has an incentive to use nuclear weapons first or has an incentive to build up its nuclear forces,” says Daryl Kimball, executive director of the Arms Control Association in Washington.

Beyond that broad accord, “each side has a different view on what threatens strategic stability and what issues should be the focus of such talks and future potential arms control arrangements,” he adds.

Senior Biden administration officials have said that any talks should at least initially focus on the “very complex set of nuclear arms issues” facing the two countries, Mr. Kimball notes, while Russia wants a “comprehensive approach” that according to Mr. Lavrov would include “nuclear and non-nuclear, and offensive and defensive weapons” from the start.

Administration officials say the U.S. could be open to more comprehensive discussions down the road, but that both sides need to focus on the nuclear issue given the final expiration of New START in 2026.

Mr. Kimball says he is heartened that the two leaders reconfirmed the idea that their predecessors agreed to nearly 40 years ago, that a nuclear war cannot be won. Yet noting that both countries are spending “tens of billions a year modernizing and upgrading their massive nuclear stockpiles,” he says the need is urgent for dialogue that is “regular, frequent, and comprehensive” and “sets the stage for actions and agreements that meaningfully reduce the nuclear risk.”

Whether or not the two nuclear powers get there anytime soon may not be known for a while. In the meantime, the two leaders’ separate press conferences were symbol enough that – despite those fluttering flags on the Pont du Mont Blanc – the two countries remain far apart.

Mindaugas Kulbis/AP

A woman holds a banner reading "Lukashenko = terrorist" while standing next to an old Belarusian flag – whose red-and-white colors are now banned in Belarus as symbols of protest – near Medininkai, Lithuania, along the Belarusian border, June 8, 2021.

Under the glare of both spotlights and a Belarusian state television presenter, detained journalist Raman Pratasevich breaks down in tears. He says he wants to quit politics and have a normal life.

In statements family and friends later described as coerced, he confesses to the crime of organizing unauthorized mass protests. He calls Belarusian President Alexander Lukashenko, who put him in this situation, a man who has been unfairly criticized. “Rallies in support of me will come to naught,” he tells the presenter.

He may be right. Mr. Pratasevich is not the first dissident to face harsh treatment by Belarusian authorities, but he is the first valued enough to warrant the hijacking of a Ryanair jetliner traveling between two European NATO member nations, with more than a hundred other passengers on board. And he has become a powerful reminder of the brutal repressions unleashed on the Belarusian people by their leader, after unfair elections sparked popular protests last August.

Mr. Lukashenko’s forcing down of a passenger plane on May 23 marks a turning point for the West. In recent months, Belarus has been steadily morphing into what many describe as the “North Korea of Europe.” Thousands have been detained in connection with protest activities and nearly 500 political prisoners are behind bars. Poland and Lithuania shelter many who fled. Those left in Belarus live in a climate of fear. Analysts question whether fresh sanctions will actually help the situation, but they find hope in the resilience of Belarusians themselves.

“There’s probably not a single family left whose relatives or families have not been touched by the regime in terms of persecutions, imprisonment, repression,” says Veronica Laputska, co-founder of the Warsaw-based Eurasian States in Transition Research Center. “The country is locked and it’s practically impossible to leave.”

Ramil Nasibulin/BelTA/Reuters

Jailed Belarusian journalist Raman Pratasevich speaks at a press conference about the forced landing of the Ryanair passenger plane on which he was traveling, in Minsk, Belarus, June 14, 2021. His family and friends say his comments appeared coerced.

Lukashenko expands his reach

The country wedged between Russia and Europe is currently under de facto martial law, analysts say.

Television and radio is completely state-run, while Mr. Lukashenko recently shut down the largest independent website in the country. The circle of people willing to speak up is shrinking, as protests that once mobilized over a million people have fizzled into small, ethereal acts of defiance. Government opponents and media professionals risk being labeled terrorists, while social media habits – monitored by random police checks – can land Belarusians in detention where beatings and torture are common.

Analysts say that the Ryanair incident was a show of government strength for a domestic audience, as it required coordination between various Belarusian security and military units, and the Russians may have been involved. The message to the West appeared to be: No one can stop me. Whether Mr. Lukashenko’s decision to try to silence critics outside Belarus was a miscalculation, or a deliberate move taken with confidence that Russia would provide cover from consequences, is unclear, analysts say.

What is clear is that “Lukashenko has expanded the limits of his terror, which was mainly used internally,” says Siarhei Kharytonau, a New York-based media expert at iSANS, a think tank monitoring Belarus and Eastern Europe. “It was an act of revenge, very personal revenge. ... Nobody expected it would cause so many implications.”

Mr. Pratasevich, the arrested journalist, is a co-founder of Nexta, a Telegram-hosted media channel that covers and coordinates protests from the relative safety of Poland. His “real” crime, says Mr. Kharytonau, was in challenging state propaganda and unveiling the extent of public opposition to Mr. Lukashenko. His actions “humiliated” Mr. Lukashenko in front of subordinates who are repeatedly told by state media that the regime is in control, that “people are happy, that the protests that took place in August were not popular, and that they were part of a blitzkrieg from Poland and Lithuania who wanted to occupy Belarus,” says Mr. Kharytonau.

In power since 1994 and known as Europe’s “last dictator,” Mr. Lukashenko has been emboldened by years of Western inaction, says Mr. Kharytonau, and he’s ignored the global outcry that followed Mr. Pratasevich’s arrest. In recent weeks, Mr. Lukashenko signed even harsher laws to deter “illegal” demonstrations, their media coverage, and “extremist activities,” taking actions similar to those used by Russia in cracking down on pro-democracy and anti-corruption activists such as Alexei Navalny.

“Real sanctions will cost Europe money”

After the Ryanair jet landing, European Union leaders quickly banned Belarusian carriers from flying in EU airspace and threatened to pass further sanctions.

Past EU sanctions have failed to pack a punch, analysts say. That’s because the creation of these lists of people and companies is undermined by politicking and economic calculations. Travel bans and asset freezes have long been instituted for top-ranking Belarusian officials (though Mr. Lukashenko himself was only added at the end of 2020). But more punishing packages typically failed to secure a broad consensus among EU member states.

Press Service of the President of the Republic of Belarus/Reuters

Belarusian President Alexander Lukashenko delivers a speech in Minsk, Belarus, May 26, 2021, a few days after Lukashenko critic Raman Pratasevich was seized from a Ryanair flight forced down as it was flying over Belarusian airspace.

“Europe introduces symbolic sanctions,” says Stanislav Shushkevich, the former Belarusian head of state in the 1990s. “They sound good, they support democracy, but to [really] do something one shouldn’t spare money. Real sanctions will cost Europe money.”

Germany and other European countries have never refrained from buying Belarusian oil, potash, and related products that directly fund the regime. And preventing European companies from selling in Belarus would potentially allow Turkish and Russian companies to step into the vacuum. So there’s a clear conflict between policy and profits.

“There is the EU and then there are interests of concrete companies that invested into Belarus and expect profits,” says Anton Semyonov, a Belarusian citizen who works at an insurance company in Minsk. “Our head of state does understand that; he has fantastic intuition.”

Further, Mr. Lukashenko has established good commercial relationships with many European businesspeople. They provide cover and facilitate access to the European market, according to Yaroslav Romanchuk, an economist and president of the libertarian think tank Scientific Research Mises Center in Minsk. “During the last round of sanctions, a few businesspeople from Lukashenko’s close circle were removed from the sanctions list by their European partners.”

There is also a limit to the EU’s clout. The bloc took only about a third of Belarusian exports even during the most flush years.

The United States has acted strongly against nine Belarusian state-owned enterprises, which has raised hopes that Europe may follow suit. “We’re working on the EU to follow American lead and to be more forceful and to be more practical, ... to have measures that would be impactful on the behavior [of Mr. Lukashenko],” says Mr. Romanchuk.

“Restrictions alone have never been an ultimate magic wand,” says Pavel, an independent analyst who asked that only his first name be used for security reasons. “A combination of external pressure and internal national mobilization is the key. The future of Belarus can be determined only by its citizens.”

Belarus’ silent partner

Complicating the EU’s ability to act is Russia, a close ally of Belarus. Some EU member states believe consolidating action against Mr. Lukashenko would hurt the bloc’s already sensitive relations with Russia.

Meanwhile, Russia has been willing to back up Mr. Lukashenko, evidenced by recent tit-for-tat moves complicating European airlines’ access to Russian airspace, which is now needed to avoid flying over Belarus. Russian President Vladimir Putin hosted Mr. Lukashenko on his boat right after the Ryanair incident, and Moscow appears to have no problems with the detention of Sofia Sapega, Mr. Pratasevich’s girlfriend and a Russian citizen, who was also taken from the flight.

“If not for Kremlin’s support, [the] Lukashenko issue would have already been solved,” says Yevgeny Ogurtsov, a journalist and political writer in Minsk.

After the incident, Russia agreed to unlock $500 million for Belarus, marking the second installment of a $1.5 billion loan that Moscow promised Minsk as part of the effort to help stabilize its neighbor after the disputed 2020 elections. Russia is the top trading partner for Belarus – the EU is No. 2 – and plays a key role in its economy.

Sergei Ilyin/Sputnik/Kremlin/Reuters

Russian President Vladimir Putin, shown here with Alexander Lukashenko (left) on a boat trip off Sochi, Russia, May 29, 2021, has stood by his Belarusian counterpart as he faces increasing pressure from the West.

“Russia’s dominating role in the Belarusian economy is something unquestioned,” says Maksimas Milta, head of the Communication and Development Unit at the European Humanities University, a Belarusian university in exile in Vilnius. “Effectively speaking, you can hardly find any sector of the Belarusian economy right now which would not be dominated by Russia except for the IT sector.”

The EU has offered twice as much as Russia – a $3.6 billion package in grants and loans – on condition that Belarus joins the ranks of Western democracies. But former Belarusian head of state Mr. Shushkevich rejects the idea that Belarus should have to choose sides politically or economically.

“Why should it be one or another – Europe or Russia?” asks Mr. Shushkevich, who led Belarus after its independence from the Soviet Union in the early 1990s. “Belarus should neither be in Europe nor in Russia, but an independent neutral state. Armed neutrality and friendly with everyone.”

Others believe soft power – via young Belarusians seeing the way of life in Europe, for example – will yield better results than any combination of sticks or carrots to persuade authorities. “Belarus will not join Europe. We have to build Europe inside Belarus ourselves ... if people could get rid of the fear,” says Mr. Ogurtsov, the political writer in Minsk.

Not looking for democracy?

For now, the loudest acts of protest are coming from outside the country. In Belarus, the average citizen cares more about food in the fridge than the political dramas unfolding on state television, says Mr. Semyonov, the insurance worker. “Authorities will stick to power by all possible means,” he says. “There is a complicated period for Belarus ahead.”

Mr. Romanchuk notes a recent opinion poll found that fewer than 42% of Belarusians believe democracy is the best way to run the country, with support for a free market even lower. “People don’t like Lukashenko because he’s cruel ... but they believe that somebody else with the same kind of power would be OK,” he says.

Michael Sohn/AP

Belarusian opposition leader Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya (rear right) holds a portrait of an arrested Belarusian man with a baseball cap at the Berlinale Summer Special film festival in Berlin, June 11, 2021.

The huge street rallies of the fall are now too dangerous to repeat. Even wearing red-and-white socks, the colors of the banned Belarusian flag, is sufficient grounds for a fine. Still, Belarusians are finding small ways to voice their discontent. Printed leaflets are distributed on the sly and random groups film themselves marching in unison to signal discontent before quickly dispersing to avoid arrest.

“The most important role in resolving this crisis stays with the people, with Belarusians,” says Valery Kavaleuski, the foreign affairs representative of opposition leader Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya. “It’s not easy to find hope in the atmosphere of despair and fear, but people are stubborn. People are resilient. People find ways to [seek change] safely.”

Some protest acts are scheduled at 23:34 (11:34 p.m.) in a nod to the digits of an administrative code that penalizes mass protest. On March 25, Belarusians unleashed a fireworks display at that time to celebrate Independence Day, according to Mr. Kavaleuski. People are starting to boycott state-produced goods such as tobacco and alcohol, which are heavily taxed and feed regime coffers.

Mr. Kavaleuski reminisces about the fall demonstrations that prompted Mr. Lukashenko’s recent crackdowns. They were joyful, peaceful, and enthusiastic. People are still holding on to those emotions, just waiting to be sprung.

“I would dare to say that if the police are withdrawn from the street, if they go back to their barracks, there will be huge numbers of people immediately,” says Mr. Kavaleuski. “Just give us our cities for 24 hours. You will see how resolute people feel about this situation.”

Brendan Smialowski/Reuters

Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau, British Prime Minister Boris Johnson, French President Emmanuel Macron, and U.S. President Joe Biden attend a working session during the G-7 summit in Carbis Bay, Cornwall, Britain, June 12, 2021.

It’s an ambitious goal that President Joe Biden has set himself and his nation to lead the way in what he sees as the central international challenge of our age: the repair and reinvigoration of democracy as an ideal model of government.

It’s a real-life “contest,” the president told reporters at the end of last weekend’s meeting in Britain of the G-7 group of advanced economies. Ranged on the opposing side were the “autocratic governments around the world,” chiefly, an ever more ambitious and assertive China.

Yet while Mr. Biden has found key allies receptive, his first overseas trip as president has made another message clear.

His task is not going to be easy.

That is largely because many foreign leaders and their citizens are skeptical about the health of America’s own democracy, unsettled by the insurrection at the U.S. Capitol in January and the return to partisan warfare and legislative gridlock in Washington in the months since then.

Allied heads of government remain skittish over the possibility that a Trump-like “America first” populist, or even former President Donald Trump himself, might reclaim the White House next time around. And two new opinion surveys show how deeply international public skepticism about Washington runs.

Matt Dunham/AP

British newspapers, with front pages reporting on the Jan. 6 insurrection at the U.S. Capitol, are displayed for sale outside a store in London, Jan. 7, 2021. Many foreign leaders and their citizens are skeptical about the health of American democracy.

Last week’s annual report on America’s standing in the world by the Pew Research Center drew attention to the recent meteoric improvement in global public sentiment about America and its president. Across the 16 nations polled, a median of 75% said they trusted Mr. Biden to “do the right thing” internationally – a leap from the 17% rating Mr. Trump garnered in 2020.

But beyond the support for Mr. Biden, the survey found far lower confidence in America’s democratic system itself.

A median of only 50% felt U.S. democracy was working well. Just 17% of those polled said America was setting a good example for democracies worldwide.

A broadly similar picture emerged from an opinion poll in 12 European countries carried out by the European Council on Foreign Relations.

In only three nations – Italy, Hungary, and Poland – did more than half of respondents feel that America’s democratic government was working well. Elsewhere, most respondents judged U.S. democracy to be either somewhat or completely “broken.”

And Mr. Biden himself seems keenly aware that this is not just a public relations challenge.

If America is going to lead – much less win – a contest between democracies and autocracies, he knows that America and its allies are going to have to meet a critical practical test: to demonstrate that their system of government can actually meet the needs of their own people and those of the wider world.

Two related policy challenges are shaping up as key tests: climate change and a broad, 21st-century vision of infrastructure that includes clean energy and high-tech innovation as well as major brick-and-mortar projects.

Internationally, that’s intended as an explicit challenge, above all, to China.

On climate change, Mr. Biden hopes to encourage and spearhead the newly ambitious low-carbon targets that the G-7 nations have set when the world meets in Scotland later this year to follow up on the Paris climate accords. On infrastructure, he wants to create an alliance of advanced democracies that will provide poorer countries with the money and expertise they need for their development projects. That’s intended as an alternative to the nearly $1 trillion Belt and Road initiative China has put in place across Asia, the Mideast, Africa, and Latin America. 

But while he’ll have taken encouragement from his G-7 partners’ initial response, Mr. Biden knows that they’ll also be watching events in Washington when he returns later this week.

Both of the challenges he laid out at the G-7 are also on America’s domestic policy agenda, in the shape of his “American Jobs Plan,” a comprehensive infrastructure and green energy proposal with a price tag of around $2 trillion.

The president’s aspiration, when he unveiled it nearly two months ago, was that it would provide a homegrown showcase of how to tackle the tasks he has highlighted at the G-7 summit. It would be an example of how, despite the challenge in recent years from authoritarianism and strongman populism, democracies actually work best. That they can rise to the policy challenges of the 21st century and still do big things well. 

The problem, though, is that this is not how things are playing out at the moment. At least as things now stand, President Biden is struggling to rally bipartisan support for his vision in Congress, which is mired in gridlock. 

That raises a critical question. How can an American president convince the world that democratic governance can deliver effective and ambitious policy if he’s unable to make good on that promise at home?

In her memoir, “Being a Ballerina: The Power and Perfection of a Dancing Life,” Gavin Larsen calls herself an “everyday” ballerina. Before retiring in 2010, she danced professionally in a number of well-regarded companies in the United States and Canada, including Oregon Ballet Theatre, where she was a principal dancer. In the book, she relates episodes from her childhood training at the School of American Ballet in New York all the way up through her successful 18-year career. She illuminates what it means to dedicate oneself to an art form – the daily navigation between pain and joy, between total immersion and having a balanced life. Unlike the gossipy celebrity tell-all, “Being a Ballerina” is a personal chronicle of a professional dancing life that is as accessible as it is engaging. 

Q: The vast majority of aspiring young dancers don’t become superstars, which makes your story so relatable. Despite notable success as a principal dancer, you still call yourself an “everyday” dancer. Why?

I wanted to highlight the thousands of [dancers] who rose to success, but are not superstars, who straddle these two worlds – in [this] exalted place, but as kind of worker bees. That crew of us is the untold story. So many dancer memoirs are by the famous names who had hardship and remarkable elements to their stories, and I had none of that. I felt the drama of a life in dance lies in the everydayness of it, the extraordinary in the ordinary. This is an interesting subset of ballet culture that nondancers are not really aware of.

Q: I don’t think most people realize that ballet demands not just strength and technical facility but incredible stamina. You write of dropping to your knees in the wings after one particularly rigorous performance. How difficult was it?

That’s another element I really wanted to hit home. Ballet is bone-crushingly hard, physically and mentally. People have an impression of a ballerina that it’s lovely and fun and your toes bleed, but that’s not really it. It’s really the highest echelon of athletic training and performance as well as an art form. I wanted to be detailed, take readers through what you do with your body minute by minute working through a piece of choreography.

Q: You’re quite candid about performance mishaps. When you know that one misstep can be career-ending, how do you let go of that fear of physical failure to dance full out, to take risks?

It’s really hard, and honestly you can’t always do it. As the years went on, it got harder, and that was a big mental component to stopping when I did. But you’re so skilled by that point that you’re used to feeling how to make it work. We used to say “We’ve gotta go make it happen” instead of just letting it happen.

Q: Pop culture sensationalizes the competition aspects of ballet. What was your experience?

That’s another common misperception that I really despise. Yes, there’s built-in competition, in that there are many more dancers than jobs and coveted roles, and you’re always measuring yourself up against other dancers. But, and I daresay 95% of dancers would agree, the majority of us experience an incredible support system. It’s this community and we all understand each other. The camaraderie in a ballet company is as strong as a military bond – it’s that tight and supportive. And that crew mentality extends beyond the dancers. There really is this neat web of people that all come together to make this one thing happen. The applause is not all for me.

Q: You don’t divulge much about your personal life until the end. Was that deliberate?

I wanted to highlight the dancing life. I did add some personal [elements] late in the book and was more forthcoming. But I was unique in having an extra heightened degree of single-mindedness – I didn’t get married, have children, or go to school while dancing. But I also didn’t eat, drink, and sleep ballet 24 hours a day. 

Q: How have you adjusted to retirement, which you refer to as “a small death”?

Writing this book helped a lot. It unfolded over 10 years, helping ease me out of a performing identity. That ballerina is still there; she’s just quiet right now. There are so many things about the performance life and the work that I don’t miss. Any moment I feel a pang for the exhilaration of performing, I think of how fleeting those moments are.

Q: What’s your best advice for aspiring ballet dancers?

If you really, really feel that pilot light in you, you can find a way to make it your life. I’ve seen too many people give up. There’s a job out there for every dancer. It may take more tenacity or time, but be stubborn and keep dancing.

Q: You now live and teach in Asheville, North Carolina, and end the book with a chapter about teaching avocational dancers, making ballet more accessible. How does the book relate to that?

I love teaching adults and recreational dancers. I hope the book gives ballet a more universal appeal. Everyone can dance, and everyone should dance. 

AP

A woman takes bread at the Porchlight Community Service food pantry in San Diego, Calif., in May.

Reports out of Myanmar indicate a country on the verge of economic collapse, a result of a military coup four months ago that has led to mass dissent, a violent crackdown, and a possible civil war. Yet despite this adversity, the people of Myanmar are living up to their reputation as one of the world’s most altruistic people. According to other reports, they have stepped up donations of food and money for both poor people and the protesters.

“They are happy when we donate food. Some even cry,” one volunteer at a new food bank in Yangon, told Agence France-Presse. The bump-up in charity comes out of Myanmar’s tradition of religious-based giving and mutual aid, known as parahita. “Our greatest weapon is the strong desire of the people. No other weapons are necessary,” a member of the Get Well Soon charity group told Myanmar Today.

The Southeast Asian country is just the latest example of lovingkindness rising to the occasion in turbulent times. In the United States, which last year saw three great upheavals – a recession, people’s lives upturned by the pandemic, and racial justice protests – charitable giving reached record levels. Americans gave $471 billion, or a 3.8% increase over the previous year when adjusted for inflation, according to the “Giving USA” report from the Lilly Family School of Philanthropy at Indiana University.

During most recessions, giving in the U.S. goes down. But with the stock market up and Americans responding to both COVID-19 and the call for racial justice, they reached for their checkbooks and Venmo accounts to donate. In particular, charities that focus on basic needs saw an 8.4% jump in giving. Food banks saw a doubling in donations. And, according to the Fundraising Effectiveness Project, the overall number of individual donors grew by 7.3%.

The rise in giving came even as the percentage of Americans who belong to a church, synagogue, or mosque went below 50% for the first time. Among 18- to 30-year-olds, the rate of donations to causes doubled in 2020 compared with the three previous years, according to a survey by the group Cause and Social Influence.

Worldwide last year, more than half of adults helped someone they didn’t know – the highest level ever recorded – according to the 2021 World Giving Index. And the level of donations was higher than in the previous five years.

“The health of a democratic society may be measured by the quality of functions performed by private citizens,” 19th-century Frenchman Alexis de Tocqueville remarked after observing American society. But a society’s future can also be judged on its ability to respond to adversity with compassion and generosity.