You look at yourself doing hip isolations and feel slightly inappropriate.
When you know the dances the kids are doing these days your students seem genuinely surprised.
You marvel at how they can twerk with energy and passion -- as though their very lives depended on it-- but look like propped up cadavers in modern, ballet and sometimes even jazz class.
As soon as there's any kind of delay when you're setting up something on the computer, some student rushes over to help because there’s NO WAY someone of your advanced age knows what to do with 21st century technology.
You HATE 90% of current pop music and think it's nasty and just bad. How about some nice, clean Madonna?
You think about demonstrating switch leaps -- your specialty back in the day -- but fear leaving the studio on a stretcher.
Every now and then, you have a wee bit more empathy for that teacher of yours who showed up for class perfectly lucid but reeking of the sauce.
Your Come to Jesus chats with your class begin with "You kids today…"
You have to give students nicknames because there's no way in hell you can keep Brittany, Brenna, Britannia and Brianna straight while giving rapid fire corrections.
When you make a reference to a famous dancer of your day, or anything of your day, the students have no idea what you're talking about. Who the hell is Barry Snikov anyway?