#but I guess this is what happens when you use Asian models as drawing guides…

[indieyuugure]

OK with Donnie being the dorky one and people practically passing out from his human form are people going to suffer aneurysms from the other three?

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm… …

Idk you tell me.

[gukyi]

to the moon and back, i love you | knj

⇒ summary: time travel is normally a one person job, but along the way, one person turns to two and coincidence turns to love. 

⇒ {time traveller!au}

⇒ pairing: namjoon x reader

⇒ word count: 2k

⇒ genre: fluff

⇒ a/n: finally! a namjoon drabble! i just couldn’t resist <3

The first time you see him, you think your mind’s playing tricks on you. He’s an actor, a model, a performer. He’s not real, he’s not like you. But a step closer and he’s none of those things, he’s just as confused, just as improperly dressed, and it’s horrifying.

The scene is New York City, October 23rd, 1929, a day before the inevitable life-destroying stock market crash, when Wall Street falls and so do the rich, the poor, and everyone in between. You’re a fish out of water standing in the streets wearing clothes that do not belong in this century, shoes that make people around you look at you before turning to their friends, whispering. You’ve always wanted to see the final moments of New York City before imminent doom, but standing on Wall Street, late at night with nothing to guide you but 1920’s lamps and a man who looks as lost as you, you wonder what might happen.

Maybe it’s the fact that you crave company, crave the feeling of someone next to you as you go through this journey, or maybe it’s just the sheer shock you’ve gotten from seeing a time traveller such as yourself standing in the same street that has you approaching him, step by step before you suddenly find yourself breaking into a run and grabbing him by the wrist before he knows what’s hit him, tugging him towards an alleyway between two buildings.

“Don’t hurt me!” He shouts, arms up in front of his face as he steps back, eyeing you through the cross.

“How did you get here?” You ask him, forgoing an introduction—any type of greeting of sorts—as you stare at him, more bewildered than anything else.

“What do you mean?” He asks, and it almost looks like he thinks you’re one of them, a 1920’s New Yorker with slick hair who’s found interest in the uninitiated.

“I mean, how did you get here?” You repeat, and another good look at you and he sees that you’re dressed like him, plain cotton hoodie and black sneakers not from this era.

“How did you?” He fires back, and it’s like you’re in a standoff, a challenge to see who’s going to cave first, admit their secrets to the other.

“I asked you first, so cough it up,” you say, glaring him down. “Time travel isn’t necessarily an everyday type of thing.”

“I’m a historian!” The man cries, still guarding his head. “And I opened an old book of mine and poof! I was here.”

Your expression softens at his explanation, movements relaxing as you take in the fact that he’s just like you. There’s nothing different about him, no government secret he’s hiding, no plan to kidnap you and expose you in front of the world.

“Your turn,” the man decides.

“I’m not a historian, but I know the mechanics of time travel,” you whisper, leaning in close to him with a hand on his collar. “I’ve been doing this for ages. You’re just a new kid.”

“A new kid who just happens to have time travelled to the same exact time and place as you?” He asks, smirk on his lips as he looks at you, amused.

“Precisely,” you hiss, letting him go and watching him nearly fall to the cement from the force of it all. “Now, go home before you fuck something up.”

The man chuckles, a knowing type of sound that tells you that you’re missing a part of the equation. “You’re a time traveller, don’t you know that history’s already fucked?”

It’s supposed to be a one time thing, seeing him in the streets of New York City on the eve of the Great Depression, but then you’re in Victorian Era England (dressed appropriately this time, might you add) and so he is, leaning against a pub on the corner of the road, somehow unmistakable. What you find so peculiar is the fact that he is here, along with you, when you decided on Victorian Era England with no specific event in mind, sending you to some randomly chosen date without any historical significance.  Meeting him here like this is hardly a coincidence this time.

It’s almost remarkable, how he blends in seamlessly with the rest of the scenery, like the background of a photograph that doesn’t look a hair out of place. If you didn’t know any better, you’d pass him by without so much as a second glance, walking right past his lean figure. But, the thing is, you do know better, and even if he had a face covered in makeup and shaved off all of his hair, you’d still recognize him.

So there he is.

It’s somewhat like deja vu, in a way, how he stands and takes in his surroundings while you stare from afar and take in him. How you find yourself approaching him once again, like you’re stuck in this hazy trance as an invisible force draws you near him. How this is all too similar to be unplanned.

You think you’ve got a good distance on him. You think he won’t notice you from only several steps away, watching him from under the awning of said pub. You think the clothes that you’re wearing will disguise you, keep you hidden in plain sight as you blend in with everyone else. You think you’re discreet, you think you’re safe, and then—

“We meet again.”

Even though you know he’s talking to you, not to any other person walking down this busy main road, you pretend like you don’t.

“I’m sorry, were you talking to me?”

“Did you think you could fool me in that getup?” He asks, this time turning towards you and looking you directly in the eye, pushing himself off of the brick wall of the noisy pub. “It’ll take a lot more than that, you know.”

“How are you here?” You whisper, in awe.

“Same way you are.” The man shrugs, tipping his top hat. “You’re not the only one who gets to use the mystical technologies of time travel.”

“But you’re—”

“Yes,” he interjects, nodding like he knows what you were about to say. “I am dressed like them.”

“How did you—”

“How did I end up inexplicably time-travelling to the exact same date you did, despite this particular day having no cultural or historical relevance?” He finishes your question for you, taking the words right out of your mouth, off the tip of your tongue. You gasp, a hand coming up to cover your mouth in true Victorian fashion as he smiles, homely and unfamiliarly all at once. “You tell me.”

“Okay,” you decide. “This is ridiculous.”

“On the contrary, actually,” the man says. “This is incredible.”

“What’s your name, Mysterious Time Travel Man?” You ask him, peering up at him through your lashes with your arms crossed in front of you, earning whispers and gasps from passersby as they take in your inappropriate pose.

“Namjoon,” the man says, holding his hand out. “How about you, fellow time traveller?”

“Y/N.”

“Would you like to see something cool, Y/N?” Namjoon asks, and his name matches him so well, that look in his eyes spelling out nothing but trouble, knowledge, and adventure. He holds out his hand with a knowing smirk on his face, you know you shouldn’t let yourself get involved with other time travellers, especially when nothing less than the future is at stake, but you can’t resist.

It’s hardly a moment before you take his hand and he’s tugging you off somewhere, with you tripping over your own Victorian Era shoes as he leads you down the cobblestone street, in his mind a destination meant only for two.

You get the shock of your life when you’re casually strolling down Paris on the eve of the French Revolution, dressed as a typical middle-class member of society with a basket on your arm, full of goodies to sell, only to turn your head and see Namjoon in full city peasant garb, wrapping an arm around you.

“What now?” You hiss to him, smiling awkwardly at the people who stare at the two of you as they walk by.

“Just doing my usual greetings, of course,” Namjoon replies. “I think we’re at that point in our relationship.”

“What relationship?” You scoff.

“We’re time travel buddies,” Namjoon says like it’s obvious, like it’s something you should have caught onto by now. “Aren’t we?”

“Well, I guess we are,” you say, and you walk together like that, like the most socially unacceptable couple roaming the streets of Paris a day before the country is thrust into political, cultural, and economic turmoil. Bread prices are high but your fondness for the man you’ve only met in the past is even higher, and Bastille doesn’t know what’s coming for it.

“When’d you arrive?”

“About an hour ago, though, as we both know, that hour’s going to become something completely different once the government decides to change the calendar.”

“A secret historian, huh?” He muses, impressed by your historical knowledge.

“I get around.”

“Would you mind if we left this place? Went somewhere else? Somewhere less… judgy?” He asks, pulling you to a dingy alleyway between two crumbling buildings, where only beggars and orphans stay.

“Left? We just arrived,” you say.

“But I want to go somewhere else with you,” says Namjoon, and this relationship that you’ve built up is strange, mysterious, and transcends the boundaries of time, but it is hardly unnatural. “I’m thinking 1990’s South Korea. We can see the birth of, well, just about all modern Asian technology.”

“And how do you plan on getting us there?” You ask, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“I always carry my book around, Y/N. Do you doubt me?” Namjoon says, scoffing as a book materializes out of nowhere, sitting in his hands like it’s always belonged there. You know a couple of other things that belong in his hands as well.

“No,” you tell him, and he opens the book in the middle of the dark little passage, the pages giving off the softest glimmer and golden glow. Namjoon places his palm on the page and motions for you to do the same, and as the light from the book consumes the both of you, you whisper one more thing. “I’d travel the world—past, present, and future—with you.”

⇒ leave any feedback/requests here and check out my masterlist here!

[jamiekturner]

Why UX, UI, CX, IA, IxD, and Other Sorts of Design Are Dumb

How to stop setting up definitions for overkill terminology and start doing the job. An opinion.

What do you do? What title do you put on the resume and portfolio? Why these words? I invite you to an exploration of how design titles and directions are (not) connected with the real world. So, let’s take a look at the current state of things. I guess you’ve seen different attempts to distinguish between UX and UI, UX and CX, user experience and product design, and so on. And you might have seen schemes about designer types like UI and UX designer, UX and IxD designer, etc. They are adorable. Diagrams showing what is what have got extremely sophisticated over time.

This is a vivid reflection of the phenomenon I’d like us to chew on. If you’ve ever googled such stuff, you’ve probably noticed they give few answers and don’t tell much about us — designers.

Something significant is always missing in all these differentiations. Where is… value? Money? Social or business goal? If any measurable value is not taken into account, such diagrams can only serve a topic for designers’ snobbish chatter at 10 AM near the coffee machine. For the majority of people — people who do not live in the world of pixels, fonts, and canvases — it’s nonsense. And it surely seems twaddle to our clients.

I remember time when I tried to “enlighten” clients and rolled my eyes at them when they confused design terminology. Now I know for sure who created so-called clients from hell — designers from hell. Such as me years ago. We are in the trapping pit we’ve dug. Difference between UX, CX, UI, IxD, etc. doesn’t ring non-designers a bell. And it doesn’t have to because the difference is theoretical.

I have a hypothesis that the modern outbreak of creative design types and titles is a kind of resistance to stereotypes. Maybe we are adding descriptive words and replacing “designer” with “strategist”, “architect”, “analyst”, and “developer” to run away from “make it look sexy”. The latest trend is to call yourself a product designer or a product manager (whatever it means). Product has become the new UX these days. Isn’t it a vicious circle? People, whose titles “entrepreneur” and “CEO” are existing for decades, laugh at our constantly changing job naming.

There is no matter what you call yourself and your approach if the result of work lacks tangible value. If a designer draws wireframes, prepares prototypes, conducts workshops, but cannot deliver a design solution for a problem, he or she is anything but a designer.

Clients care about what you do only when you care about their business.

So, what are designers supposed to do? Where is the balance between focusing on a narrow area or being in charge of all design activities? Where is the verge between drawing mockups and influencing the world behind the window? There is a popular idea that the T-shaped skillset is the best for a designer. It means a designer has deep competence some area and decent knowledge in the rest of design areas.

However, we are living in a weird age. There is a bunch of dick-shaped designers proud of knowing one narrow area and a trifle of neighboring ones. Such skills don’t allow to think strategically and keep the final value in mind.

I often hear, “Oh fuff, I don’t draw icons. I’m a UX designer. I pass my wireframes to a UI guy”. Or, “I pick the color palette. You’d better ask about the business model that girl at the whiteboard”. What’s next? There will be Blue Button Designers? (Do not confuse with Red Button Designers.) Flat Icon Architects? Customer Journey Map Strategists? Principal Sticky Note Peelers? Helvetica Poster Developers? To feel how grotesque it sounds try transforming some non-design job titles. Steel Hammer Carpenter, Motor Yacht Sailor, Asian Flavor Cook, Beretta Gun Soldier…

“UX/UI designer” sounds as awkward as “vegetable/carrot salad” or “vehicle/bus driver”.

And since design thinking is a hype nowadays, there is another problem. I call it em-dash-shaped designers. They attend dozens of design conferences and courses, try themselves a little bit in different directions but can not produce anything valuable and complex. Those guys like mentioning all the areas they pretend to know. For instance, UI/UX/Web/Mobile/Desktop Designer, Service/Digital/Product Designer/Manager.

You may disagree, “It sounds cool in theory. But these buzzword titles are exactly what HRs and recruiters are looking for”. Well, this is right to a certain extent. And there is a point where professional dignity goes in. If it becomes trendy to call our job “Pixel Mover” or “Photoshop Operator”, will we put it on resumes? Of course, we are not there yet, but we are moving towards when conforming to trends.

I think large companies have contributed to unteaching designers to be… designers. This zoo of designer and design types is the result of granular work distribution in big teams. Designers are doing their small parts and gradually unlearn to test them against the final goal. Throw stones at me, but the end-to-end design process is a must for any designer, although they can specialize in something. From a bird’s eye view, there is a universal design workflow.

Methods vary for every industry but the core is the same: research, ideation, validation, implementation.

If we call ourselves designers, I believe we should take responsibility for the whole product fate even doing a small portion of work at a time. If icons, wireframes, mockups, icons or prototypes are neat, but what users see is a disaster, designers haven’t done their work. Let me make myself clear. I don’t promote being a design generalist versus a design specialist. Just pointing out a professional misbalance and ambiguity we have nowadays. It seems design has the most unstable borders among all the jobs.

Now we can return to the questions I asked at the beginning. What are we? Why these words? And here is another interesting observation. Designers used to call themselves after what they did. Present-day titles more and more reflect how we work because there is not much difference between designing a mobile interface and a microwave oven. “If you can design a thing, you can design anything”, said Massimo Vignelli. Methodology is what matters a lot. What are the steps that guide us to good solutions? How can we measure their benefits? Businesswise, what helps to make more money?

We should be able to show the measurable value of what we consider is right. Sometimes designers propose solutions that don’t bring income immediately but attract loyal customers. Loyalty and reputation will bring money in the future. The task is to show how it’ll be possible. It’s like playing chess. The more steps ahead you think, the more credibility and trust you gain.

The value of design is one of the basic topics in our profession, and more and more I feel lack of it. Photoshop, Sketch, pixel perfection, customer journey maps, visual language don’t make us designers. The same way a hammer and a saw don’t make someone a carpenter. We are designers when we solve problems and contribute to something valuable.

There will always be people and situations that break the reputation of our profession. A popular meme says there will always be someone who can do it cheaper and worse. Fortunately, there are simple things we can do to support the positive image of designers.

1. Call your job clearly and concisely

After the decades of evolution, only the word “designer” has left unchanged. If you put any words before “designer” check whether they can stay relevant in ten years or so. And beware of referring to one particular tool or method because this makes you look limited. In all times serious, mature clients weren’t searching for wireframe-artists and button-creators. They need market-conquerors, problem-solvers, and money-multipliers. If you are one of them, you are at the helm of changes. Specializing in something is good until it becomes an obstacle for understanding the whole business. I personally like calling myself just a designer. The fact that I design interfaces (not interiors or clothes) becomes clear from the industry of the company I work for.

2. Showcase not work, but the value added

It might turn out that many works are lacking tangible value. Oh, I know that from my own experience. Instead of “Designed look and feel for a financial app” try “2x speed-up of the sign-up to a financial app”. For the project “Design of a logistics VR concept” consider “VR concept that estimatedly can save up to 40% of the delivery cost”. Value can be both financial — earning or saving money — and social — making one’s life better. “I’ve done” is stronger and more result-oriented than “I did”.

3. Collect and create the proofs of design impact

Clients will always be challenging our designs and questioning our proposals. And the bigger a project is, the more businesses risk when rely on unproven designs. So we should learn from the evidence of design impact on business and people and generate such evidence. One of the recent cases is Forrester’s study on how design thinking techniques have affected the economic performance of IBM.

On the other hand, there are widely-spread myths about the value of design. It’s really hard to extract design from all the activities and say something like, “A week of designer’s work brings $10k income to our business.” One of popular fake facts states, “$1 invested in design brings $100 of income”. This idea is absent in the book it usually is associated with. The more we refer to such unproven factoids, the more come across as “artists”. It’s designers’ responsibility to replace myths with research data.

Recommended materials

Much more experienced and knowledgeable designers inspired me to write this humble article. By getting acquainted with their opinion too, you’ll have a broader picture of what’s happening in the design world.

Mike Monteiro, “You Have Been Lied to”, a video recording of the keynote at Interaction-2015 conference. One of Mike’s thoughts is that everything that helps designers to do their job is the part of their job.

Mike Monteiro, “Design’s Lost Generation”, an article on designers’ professional ethics and making a choice between earning a living and doing what is right.

Alan Cooper, “When Companies Question the Value of Design”, an article about the reasons designers can not communicate the value of their work in terms of money. (Paid reading but it’s worth it.)

Instead of post scriptum — a recent tweet by “Father of Visual Basic”.

Feel free to get in touch elsewhere: Dribbble, Behance, SlideShare, Instagram.

The post Why UX, UI, CX, IA, IxD, and Other Sorts of Design Are Dumb appeared first on Design your way.

from Web Development & Designing https://www.designyourway.net/blog/design/why-ux-ui-cx-ia-ixd-and-other-sorts-of-design-are-dumb/

[biofunmy]

After Misty Comes Marie. Breaking Barriers in ‘The Nutcracker.’

She may not remember it, but during the first summer of her life Charlotte Nebres canvassed for Barack Obama with her mother, Danielle, who carried her in a sling. She attended political rallies. And on a frigid day in January 2009, she accompanied her parents and older sister to his inauguration.

When Charlotte was 6, Misty Copeland became the first female African-American principal at American Ballet Theater. That, she remembers.

“I saw her perform and she was just so inspiring and so beautiful,” Charlotte, 11, said. “When I saw someone who looked like me onstage, I thought, that’s amazing. She was representing me and all the people like me.”

Now Charlotte, a student at the School of American Ballet, is breaking a barrier herself: She is the first black Marie, the young heroine of “George Balanchine’s The Nutcracker,” at New York City Ballet. It’s a milestone for the production, which dates to 1954.

It isn’t lost on Charlotte that she “got to grow up in a time when it wasn’t just like, oh yeah I can do this, but not do this,” she said. “There was nothing holding you back.”

But the cultural shift reaches beyond Charlotte, whose mother’s family is from Trinidad (her father’s side is from the Philippines), as her school works to diversify its student body. In addition to Charlotte, the other young leads this season are Tanner Quirk (her Prince), who is half-Chinese; Sophia Thomopoulos (Marie), who is half-Korean, half-Greek; and Kai Misra-Stone (Sophia’s Prince), who is half-South Asian. (The children are always double cast.)

City Ballet, which takes most of its members from the School of American Ballet, its affiliate, is also showing signs of change. Over the past seven years, 62 S.A.B. students have become City Ballet apprentices; of those, 21 identify as nonwhite or mixed; and of those, 12 refer to themselves as black; four of those are women. That carries weight: Since the 1970s, City Ballet has largely had only one black female dancer at a given time.

For Charlotte’s debut, that context is meaningful. Her mother described what happened when Charlotte, who is quiet and artistic — she loves to draw and sing — emerged from her “Nutcracker” audition: “With that poker face of hers, she said, ‘Well, I’m Marie,’ And I just thought, oh my goodness — they really did it. I couldn’t believe it.”

The importance of the casting hit Ms. Nebres, who herself danced growing up: “What does this mean in a larger context? That was just a whole different conversation than that initial, oh my gosh, you’re going to do this thing.”

When she told Charlotte that she was the first, Ms. Nebres said, her daughter’s response was: “Wow. That seems a little late.”

The children at the school, no matter their ethnicity, are growing up with role models like Mr. Obama and Ms. Copeland to guide them. Ms. Nebres, who has three children enrolled at the school — Charlotte, whom she called “a free spirit,” is the middle child — said she tries to be mindful of that. “It’s tough because we have past hurts, past injuries and disappointments,” she said, “and you don’t necessarily want to color their worldview that way. You want them to approach it with their fresh perspective.” She added: “It really gave me chills thinking about it.”

She’s not alone. Kai’s mother, Kavita Misra, said she was proud that her son was cast this season. “It’s a historical moment and he is privileged to be a part of it,” she said, later adding: “I think at some point they’re just dancers. And that’s what trumps everything else.”

Casting for “The Nutcracker” is not a casual act. Dena Abergel, the children’s ballet master of City Ballet, considers many things, from a dancer’s size and dependability — how often does an 11-year-old hold a Lincoln Center stage? — to dramatic finesse. Tanner, at 13, is older than the others with, Ms. Abergel said, an “inborn princely quality,” while Kai, 11, has “a really sensitive soul — his demeanor is so open.”

Sophia, 12, and Charlotte each have a delicacy. Ms. Abergel said both are quiet in class but stood out to her onstage — Sophia in the party scene of the “Nutcracker” last year and Charlotte as Little Red Riding Hood in “The Sleeping Beauty.” Charlotte ran away with the role — and even surprised her mother, who hadn’t realized she was so theatrical.

“I just thought, they picked the wrong child,” Ms. Nebres said. “She is introverted in a way. But then when I saw her, I thought, O.K., I’m the one that doesn’t know Charlotte.”

Ms. Nebres laughed. “I think that’s the most interesting thing about this experience for me,” she said. “You don’t know what people are seeing in your child, and they are definitely seeing something in her.”

But kids have opinions, too. Earlier this month, this year’s Princes and Maries took a break from rehearsals to talk about the dedication and fun of training to become ballet dancers.

What follows are edited excerpts from that conversation.

What is it like to represent the changing face of S.A.B.?

Charlotte It’s pretty amazing to be not only representing S.A.B., but also representing all of our cultures. There might be a little boy or girl in the audience seeing that and saying, hey, I can do that, too.

How do you feel about Misty Copeland?

Sophia Honestly, if I see an African-American dancer, it doesn’t really make a difference of how I think of them or anything, but I think it’s pretty amazing how she represents something — that maybe a lot of other African-American dancers wanted to be this, but they felt too afraid or something. She just went out there and did what she loved no matter what.

Do you think that ballet needs to change?

Kai I think that it should because stuff is always evolving and the more it changes, the more opportunities people will have.

Is it a big deal for you to be the first black Marie?

Charlotte It is. But to me, it’s just how I grew up so it’s not really different to me.

Does this feel like a sacrifice of your time?

Sophia It can be hard, especially with all the rehearsals to get homework done. But I think overall I’m getting used to the schedule and the whole experience is going to be really fun. I think I will have time to do homework.

What are you most excited about for “The Nutcracker”?

Charlotte I think the part that I’m most, most excited about is at the end when they’re on the sleigh.

Could you describe what happens?

Charlotte Marie and the Prince go offstage and sit on this sleigh. Then, they get to float up in the air and they fly away — they leave the Land of Sweets. I don’t know where they go. It’s like a one-in-a-million chance to do that and it looks so fun.

Kai The snow is really magical. It’s really fun in rehearsals to do the scene waking Marie up, but I think with the snow it will give it more of a magical feel. What does it feel like? I think it might be paper.

Sophia I remember a lot of Princes and Maries from the past like to collect the snow that would fall in their hair for, like, a souvenir.

Charlotte [Sighs happily] I’m so excited about that part.

Kai I’ve heard things about them going to a bucket? And when they’re not looking, they just take a handful and put it somewhere. [The girls squeal in delight.]

Charlotte Last year, Tenzin [Niles, a former Prince] was like, “This is a secret.” There’s water backstage so he took a cup and opened up this barrel of what looked like a trash can and took a scoop of it and it was, like, snow. He showed us how. He was like, “Just put it on this piano and once you come offstage, take it.”

You’ve spent a good deal of your lives onstage. What is that experience like?

Sophia I think “Nutcracker” has a different feel to it than if you’re in another show. It’s very magical, like the whole part of it being close to Christmas and the holidays.

Are you nervous?

Kai I’m quite nervous about it. But then I think once I do a couple of shows, it will get more natural. I’m also really excited about the backstage process. I remember having a lot of memories about having fun backstage and going in the hallways — I’m sorry to give secrets — but we would run around.

Charlotte It’s not allowed, but everyone does it.

What did you do?

Charlotte Unspeakable things.

Tanner We would dare ourselves to go into this little room and just scream.

Who is Marie to you?

Charlotte I never really thought about that, but I guess to me, literally, she’s a little Victorian girl who experiences magic.

How do you relate to that?

Charlotte Everyone experiences Christmas magic. She’s a girl on Christmas Eve and almost anyone can relate to that — being happy, getting a little doll and playing with your friends. I think of it as having Christmas every day. That’s the best way to think about it. It’s Christmas! Be happy.

Kai Can I add a little bit to the Marie stuff? I think, honestly, Marie is almost just a normal girl, who is young and has that spirit and then suddenly she gets into this magic world with all of her nightmares, like the mice, but also, all of her dreams, like the Sugarplum Fairy, come true.

What about the Prince?

Kai The Prince is this character that develops. In the beginning, he is Drosselmeier’s nephew and then it’s almost as if he transforms into the Nutcracker and then goes back to being the Prince. He comes out of his shell and just opens up and is like: Here I am.

Do you watch “Stranger Things”? Are you into the supernatural?

Kai Yes. I mean I don’t like many shows like that, but “Stranger Things” is an exception. I started watching it when I was 8. My mom was like, “Oh my God” to my sister and she was like, “Oh, he’ll be fine.” I was — kind of fine? But I kind of wasn’t.

Tanner, as a former Fritz [Marie’s bratty little brother], you have probably studied Princes over the years.

Tanner I definitely think that the Prince is very brave and compassionate especially toward his Marie, which is what I aspire to be like in real life, too.

Charlotte And the pink suit. It never gets old. He transforms from the Nutcracker Prince — sword-fighting, mouse-killer, victorious — to the Prince who is the ruler of the Land of the Sweets and wears a pink suit.

Sophia Although we don’t get to see the big transformation. We’re asleep on the bed. But you can hear it in the music.

Charlotte And everyone’s clapping.

Why ballet? Why is it important to you now?

Charlotte To me, it just feels like when I dance I feel free and I feel empowered. I feel like I can do anything when I dance. It makes me happy, and I’m going to do what makes me happy. You don’t need to think about anything else.

Sophia It’s kind of the same thing. You feel really free and open when you dance and to me, the dance world is almost a separate world. You’re not thinking about school. As much as I like the technique and all of that, I really like the moments when you get to move through the air and feel the music.

Tanner I feel like I’m in another world. I love to perform.

Kai What I like about it is you do something, and you do something well, but then there’s always something you need to perfect more. I think that’s a life lesson for regular day life. Nothing’s ever perfect, but in ballet you do your best. You try to make it beautiful. But really you just learn from it.

George Balanchine’s The Nutcracker

Through Jan. 5 at the David H. Koch Theater, Lincoln Center; nycballet.com.

Other Notable Nutcrackers in the Area

‘MY FIRST NUTCRACKER’ An introductory production for kids aged 3-8. Saturdays and Sundays through Dec. 22 at Theater Row, 410 West 42nd Street, Manhattan; nycchildrenstheater.org.

‘NUTCRACKER ROUGE’ This sexy version for adults mixes burlesque and circus arts with ballet. Through Jan. 26 at Théâtre XIV, 383 Troutman Street, Bushwick, Brooklyn; companyxiv.com.

SALZBURG MARIONETTE THEATER’S ‘THE NUTCRACKER’ The venerable Austrian company brings its handcrafted puppets to Queens. Dec. 4 at 7 p.m. at Flushing Town Hall, 137-35 Northern Boulevard, Flushing, Queens; flushingtownhall.org.

‘GREAT RUSSIAN NUTCRACKER’ Local children join professional dancers from the Moscow Ballet in a Russian-influenced production. Dec. 7 at 2 and 7 p.m., Kings Theater, 1027 Flatbush Avenue, Brooklyn; kingstheatre.com.

‘THE YORKVILLE NUTCRACKER’ Dances Patrelle’s production, set in New York City in the late 19th century, features New York City Ballet principal dancers. Dec. 13-15, the Kaye Playhouse at Hunter College, East 68th Street, Manhattan; dancespatrelle.org.

JOFFREY BALLET SCHOOL’S ‘THE NUTCRACKER’ A student performance of the full two-act ballet. Dec. 13-15 at LaGuardia Performing Arts Center, 31-10 Thomson Avenue, Long Island City, Queens; joffreyballetschool.com.

‘KEITH MICHAEL’S “THE NUTCRACKER”’ New York Theater Ballet’s production has an Art Nouveau design and hourlong running time. Dec. 13-15 at Florence Gould Hall, 55 East 59th Street, Manhattan; nytb.org.

‘THE BROOKLYN NUTCRACKER’ Brooklyn Ballet combines ballet with hip-hop and other dance styles from around the world. Dec. 14 at 2 and 7 p.m. at Kings Theater, Brooklyn brooklynballet.org.

NATIONAL BALLET THEATER OF ODESSA’S ‘THE NUTCRACKER’ A traditional version from the Ukrainian company. Dec. 14 at 2 and 7 p.m. at the New Jersey Performing Arts Center, Newark; njpac.org.

‘NUT/CRACKED’ The Bang Group’s vaudevillian take on the classic. Dec. 19-21 at the Flea Theater, 20 Thomas Street, Manhattan; thebanggroup.com.

‘NUTCRACKER WINTER SUITE’ A showcase for the dancers of the Valentina Kozlova Dance Conservatory. Dec. 20-21 at Symphony Space, Manhattan; vkdcny.com.

VICKY SIMEGIATOS DANCE COMPANY’S ‘THE NUTCRACKER’ The New York City Ballet principal dancers Maria Kowroski and Ask la Cour are featured. Dec. 22 at 1 and 6 p.m. at St. George Theater, 35 Hyatt Street, Staten Island; vspac.com.

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