It is unusual for an Arab girl (bint Arab) to become a dancer. My parents and Grandparents were Syrian and migrated to America in the early 1900's I lived with an extended family, which included my mother, grandmother, grandfather, three uncles and two aunts. My grandfather was a cabinetmaker and he specialize in making ouds and talwas (inlaid backgammon tables). I grew up with the Arabic culture deeply ingrained in me. I ate Arabic food, listened to Arabic music and spoke only Arabic until I went to school. My mother sang at the Arabic "hafles" and was accompanied by live music. Like many little girls I would dance to the middle-eastern rhythms. My mother and grandmother would take me to the movies to see the famous dancers and singers. Dancers Tahia Carioca and Samia Gamal fascinated me as they glided like gazelles in their gorgeous costumes. At home I would amuse myself by watching myself in the mirror imitating the dancers whom I had seen.

Out of this background grew my love for dancing. I wanted desperately to be a ballet dancer, but my mother wouldn't let me take lessons for fear it would build ugly muscles in my legs. I was so determined to learn that I secretly checked out ballet books from the library and practice the steps on my own. Of course I couldn't really learn much that way.

Finally, after graduating High School, I could make my own choices. One of the first jobs I had was teaching for Arthur Murray, I reasoned that I would have to learn all of the dances in order to teach them. The more I taught, the more I learned and the more I found myself drawn to the Latin rhythms. I found a dance partner and started doing exhibition dancing at Latin concerts at the Palladium and other venues in Hollywood. I met a young man who was a Flamenco dancer, Roberto Lorca became my partner for some of the exhibitions. He had been dancing with the Jose Greco Company. He aroused my interest in Flamenco dancing. I could relate to the emotions and the expressive nature of the Flamenco music and dance. It was almost the same intensity of emotions and expressiveness of Arabic music and dance. Roberto went on to become a successful Flamenco dancer.

I married, had a son and decided to go to college, but all I could concentrate on was dancing, I took modern dance in college and then took workshops taught by choreographer Lester Horton, who headed a successful dance company.

Around this time, my Mother was singing at Mahrajans (Arabic functions) and there was a dancer by the name of Kanza Omar, who was my idol. She came to the affairs dressed in Mink coats and her costumes were dazzling, she looked like a movie star. She was in several films in the Middle East and she was also in a few American films I wanted to look like her when I danced. I begged my Mother to ask Kanza to teach me to dance Arabic (they were friends) unfortunately Kanza died an untimely death but before that she had given my Mother one of her dancing skirts to give to me.

I had some Arabic girlfriends who were dancing in a small company that was headed by an Arabic woman named Delila Muir. She created Arabic shows around town and entertained soldiers on Army bases. Her brother Antoon wore a turban and played the drums and her other brother played the oud. I joined her troupe at the urging of my friends. It consisted of four girls, Delal and myself. We traveled around in a big bus to the shows, sometimes hundreds of miles away. Delal was the star of the show. Her performance included snakes slithering out of wicker baskets. This type of dancing did not live up to my perception of how Arabic dancing should be performed.

During one of our performances at the Wilshire Ebell theatre, a woman who had a Flamenco troupe performing that evening approached me. She was Rita Lupino, and I believe she was the sister of Ida Lupino, an actress who was popular at the time. Rita asked me If I wanted to join her troupe, I explained to her my limited Flamenco dance experience and the little Roberto had taught me was not enough to perform professionally. She said I had the perfect look for a Flamenco dancer and that she would train me. Of course I was delighted and went to her rehearsals and studied the routines, heelwork and castanets, but it was short lived.

One of the girls in Delals group went to audition for a dance job in a Hollywood nightclub called the Fez Supper Club, she asked me to accompany her. The fez featured an Arabic show, the only one of it's kind at the time. They brought Arabic musicians, and dancers from the Middle East. The food was Arabic and the décor was right out of a scene from a Thousand and One Nights. I had been to the Fez before. The owners were two brothers, Lou and Fred Shelby. Lou was the violinist who played at the Mahrajans where my Mother sang and Kanza danced. My girlfriend auditioned but I was hired. Lou Shelby said I looked just right for a belly dancer. My Arabic looks, olive skin and long black hair helped. I told him I had never danced in a nightclub nor have I ever danced solo. He said, "don't worry about it we'll teach you." He asked me to start the coming Friday night. The only other time I had ever dance by myself in front of others was at the Peacock Alley, a jazz club that featured an Arabic night with live music. I was taunted into dancing by my Mother and some of her friends, so dance I did, street clothes and all feeling totally mortified. Little did my Mother know that she launched a career that night that she was initially against.