Juniper Awards: When the Community Sees You
Last fall, somewhere between one class ending and another beginning, I noticed an email titled: “I Have News,” with the request I call. That evening, after I’d given my corrections and handed out the last pair of fresh pointe shoes, I picked up the phone and called. Two kind voices told me something astonishing: I’d been chosen as the recipient of the Jeff Hamilton Legacy Fund’s Juniper Award for my commitment, imagination, and fearlessness in the performing arts.
It took a moment to sink in. The words award and fearlessness rarely appear in the same sentence as snow tires, but as I soon learned, Jeff Hamilton thought they should. His wife, Carolyn, explained that during Jeff’s cancer treatment he wanted to honor ordinary people who make a difference — not through grand gestures, but through steady devotion. “He wanted you to be able to buy a new set of snow tires if that’s what you need,” she said.
That made me laugh, because it was perfect. For most of my adult life, I’ve been balancing on the edge — not in the cutthroat ballet clichés of television and film portrayals, but in the quieter suspense of figuring out how to pay rent, make rehearsal, and still show up for my restaurant shift. You learn to keep your balance on very uneven ground, both financially and emotionally.
Now, as the sole full-time employee of Lake Tahoe Dance Collective, my days are a swirl of spreadsheets, grant applications, and costume fittings, wedged between 29 hours a week of teaching and rehearsals. Head to the grindstone, I move from barre to balance sheets to backstage. The rhythm of keeping it all afloat leaves little time to pause, let alone for applause. So, when that call came, what struck me most wasn’t the money — it was that someone, somewhere, had noticed.
Because here, in a mountain community celebrated for its outdoor recreation, art is not the obvious priority. The majesty of nature surrounds us, but it can also make an artist feel very small. Creation happens indoors, in silence — not on a ski slope or trail. That isolation runs deep, and sometimes it’s hard to tell if what you’re building matters beyond the studio walls.
That’s why this award felt so meaningful. It wasn’t a popularity contest. It was a carefully curated recognition — not about visibility or social standing, but about quiet, consistent commitment. Someone took the time to see what happens behind the scenes, in the long hours and invisible labor that make beauty possible.
One of my mentors, the Balanchine ballerina Deborah Wingert, once told me:
“Do what you do, because you do it well. The people who understand will come.”
She was right. Support isn’t about persuasion; it’s about integrity and trust. In dance, “support” is literal — the partner’s quiet strength beneath your leap, or the choreographer who makes sure to use your “good side.”
Over the years, that invisible hand has taken many forms: donors, sponsors, volunteers, and foundations who believe in the work not because it’s trendy, but because it’s true. Eighteen years in, our little organization has become a home for artistry in the mountains — a place where young dancers can take risks knowing there’s a net of trust beneath them.
I think back to 2006, when I nervously applied for a $500 grant from the Tahoe Truckee Community Foundation to bring my New York company here for a week. After a phone interview with Phyllis McConn and her volunteer committee, we received an enthusiastic yes. That moment planted a seed — and the foundation has remained a dedicated supporter of Lake Tahoe Dance Collective from its founding to this very day. It wasn’t just funding; it was faith that has grown alongside us, season after season.
Jeff Hamilton understood this. “What am I if I’m not helping?” he asked while establishing his legacy fund and going through chemotherapy at the same time. Helping isn’t about grandness — it’s about steadiness.
And so, no — I didn’t buy snow tires. I bought a plane ticket. I took a trip to Europe to fill my soul with art, landscapes, people, and food — to stand in the birthplace of creativity and refill my sense of wonder. I came home carrying that joy back into my classes and productions, ready to support my dancers with a renewed sense of fearlessness, commitment, and imagination — the very tenets of the award that made me feel seen.
To be all alone and realize who you have at your back — that’s support. If you want someone else to feel the support I have, nominate them for a Juniper Award and let them feel the warmth of the spotlight.
To nominate someone for a Juniper Award, or to support this fund that annually awards individuals throughout the community, visit jeffhamiltonlegacyfund.com.
~ Christin Hanna is a dancer, teacher, and lifelong arts advocate. In 2008, she founded Lake Tahoe Dance Collective to bring professional dance and education to the Tahoe community —something she longed for as a young artist growing up here. She’s the recipient of the 2024 Jeff Hamilton Legacy Fund Juniper Award for Arts and the Performing Arts and was named an Arts Icon of Placer County in 2023.
