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A Full-circle Skirt

When I first started contra dancing, I was all about the *wild.* How far could I push the moves? How much more could I get out an 8-count? How many extra spins could I work in? I still do that sometimes. It's cool. It's fun. And, at times, it's just right.

But then I discovered that I don't have to push myself to get a good dance. I've discovered that attention to form has a lot of ROI. And, I've discovered that I can actually get more out of the dance by not focusing on the excess but on the micro-ness of my movements and form.

But the best discovery (other than what I mentioned above AND leather-soled shoes) is the value of a full-circle skirt. Lord, have mercy. When I dance in a full-circle skirt -- especially the 1950s heavy cotton vintage kind -- wowsa! I barely have to move and the skirt swishes and sways behind me. I love it. And while I am, of course, focusing on my partner and the progression of the dance, I can always see my skirt in my peripheral vision. It makes me feel more elegant and feminine, which then reinforces my desire to focus on my form rather than the flash and excess.

So, I have two 1950s cotton, full-circle skirts, impeccably sewn. One was a gift from my mother, a dancer in her own right, whose waist size had surpassed mine. The other I found at a thrift store for $2.49! Ric-rac galore! I still haunt the interior of eBay looking for more of the same. I just love them. I love to dance in them. I love to wear them in the summer. I love walking and feeling the heavy swoosh of quality skirt as a I walk. And when I dance, watch out!

:-)

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If any of my peeps out there have older relatives, who would have been young and fun-loving in the '50s, I'm a candidate for purchasing any 1950s-era full-circle skirts. My waist is 28". *Sigh*  Any length skirt is good. 

Single-focus

Last night I was a man. Well, at least for about 30-40 minutes. See, I showed up at the weekly contra dance at Lovely Lane Church, and there were a ton of women there, especially younger women. Plus, the Baltimore Open Band (a drop-in band) was playing, so a lot of the regular guy dancers were on stage playing music. So, I decided to help balance things out and "be a man" for a while.

I like switching roles now and again. It helps me see the dance and the dynamics from a completely different perspective. Contra is a called dance and a community dance where,  quite unlike a waltz or swing where the man has full responsibility for the lead, he follows the dance but holds the lead inside of each of the called moves. Capiche?

Well, in one of the dances where I was being a man, I was dancing with a stellar and solid dancer. It was fabulous. Then she asked me a simple question: a question I've been asked many times before. Rather than answering it easily and fueling additional conversation between us, I found myself stumbling just to give her a couple of words as a short answer. I couldn't lead *and* talk. Or, perhaps I should say, I couldn't talk the way I'm used to fluidly speaking and hold the pattern of the dance in my head. To myself, I laughed and thought, This must be some of the frustration that men often feel when they are concentrating on something and women, with a profound capacity for diffused awareness, interrupt them, not understanding the significance of even a small interruption on their focus. It was quite informative for me.

Here's an educational and entertaining YouTube vid on the subject of men's single focus capacity and women's diffused awareness.

The Nerve!

At the latest Friday night contra dance down at Glen Echo Park, a bright, enthusiastic, young man asked me to dance. He was cute in a 23-year-old-ish way ... and a bit geeky and awkward. Not recognizing him from prior dances, I asked him if he was new to the scene. He was. I asked him what he liked about contra dancing. He really liked the patterns; the structure of the dance gave him creativity inside the patterns. I liked his thinking and know this to be true for myself, as well.

During the break when waltz music is played, he then he told me there was one thing he didn't like about contra: "I don't like that the men mostly have to ask the women to dance. For a shy guy like me, I wish the women would ask me to dance more." I can't speak to my exact facial expression, of course, but as kindly and firmly as possible, I offered an alternative perspective: "Well, as a woman, I believe it's an excellent life skill for a man to have the nerve to ask a woman to dance. Practice here, at contra, where you're likely to get a 90% or higher positive response from the women."

Then, as if orchestrated ever-so-perfectly by God, a friendly, geeky, older man waltzed up to me, arms outstretched and asked me to dance. In a six-count or less, I said my good-bye to the young geek and waltzed away with the brave one.

Big boys shouldn't bounce

Lesson #5: The bigger you are, the more careful you have to be

Observations from a somewhat petite chick:

I went to a concert a weekend or so back. DJ Tiesto. It was happy crowd. And it was a crowded crowd. Everybody was dancing. Bodies were bumping against bodies and pretty much everyone was moving to the music. This was a good thing. It was fun. It was packed. And it was cool.

What wasn't so great was the big guys bouncing up and down as though they were out in an open field with free reign to move any which way at any moment.

When a 6' 3" guy jumps up in the air, the likelihood that he's going to land exactly in the spot where from where he started his jump is pretty low. Rather, the likelihood that he's going to land in someone else's mini-sphere-o-space is rather high. I don't mean to be quelling anyone's right to happily dance to music, but my goodness, when the crowd is p-a-c-k-e-d, everyone has to self-manage. Everyone has to be attentive to where they are, where their body is, how much space they're taking up and what is happening around them.

It's all about civility. It's a matter of a safety. It's really just common sense.

And while this basic premise applies to all people of all body sizes, it's the big boys with more physical mass and long arms and legs who really have to be most attentive to this issue. Just like out on the road, if a mega-sized SUV encounters a mini-sized car, we all know who is most likely to take the heat from the crash. So, BigBoys, think of yourselves as SUVs on the road. Your size, rather than making you King of the Road, carries responsibility to be  more safe, more courteous and more attentive to the smaller participants in your field of impact.

And, if you want to bounce -- and bounce high -- move to the periphery of the crowd, rather than the center. Really. Please, be courteous. And be safe.

I know why they wave

Lesson #4: The secret behind why they wave

Before going to a DJ Tiesto concert, I'd watch his videos on YouTube and see sights of thousands of people with their hands up in the air, waving around and in beat to the music. How odd, I thought to myself. Who dances with their hands straight up in the air?

Now I speak as an experienced concert-goer. (I know, I'm a bit on the older side of things to be having my first big concert experience, but I've been busy doing other things.) So, off I went to the Love Outdoors Tiesto in DC concert, along with 7,999 others. Like many others, I wanted to be up close. This is how and when I deciphered the mystery behind the hands-in-the-air dancing.

See, there's simply no room to dance anywhere else but up. And so, I, who had heretofore been utterly perplexed by the desire to wave one's hands in the air at a dance concert, was suddenly rockin' with all my heart and soul through one hand, extended high and upward. Along with a about 7,999 other similarly inclined souls.

Life is good. Tiesto is close to God. Or, at least, that's how I felt dancing to his music.

Dorks on the Dance Floor?

Lesson 3: Tenderness works wonders

This weekend I was at one of my favorite dances: the Friday Night Contra Dance at Glen Echo Ballroom.

Contra, by its nature as a community dance, attracts an element of social misfits, and, unfortunately, a percentage of people who really can't dance worth beans. The etiquette at a contra dance, fyi, is to switch to a new partner for each dance.

So, as one dance ended, and I was about to start milling around, waiting to be asked to dance, a man swooped into my vision and asked me for the next dance. I had my reservations about his dance-ability, but said, yes, to his offer.

We did the walk-through (as is contra custom). My suspicions grew stronger. (He's clueless as a dancer, I thought.) We began the dance, and he had all the markers of a bad dancer. I smiled publicly and inwardly decided I'd just never accept a dance from him again. I'll just grin and bear it for now, I thought.

Then, as the dance went on, and I watched him more closely, I realized that he was one of these people who is just "off." No amount of charm school, or coaching or "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" assistance could ever help him be "on." Maybe he was on the slightly lower side of the IQ scale. Maybe he had an enzyme or two that his body didn't produce in the right ratios. Maybe ... well, I don't know what it was. But instead of being bothered by being with a "bad dancer," I saw him more for who he was and that he was doing his best ... even if he was just a bit clueless on the dance floor. Then I felt tender toward him.

I decided that I would accept another dance from him if he asks me in the future. And I would do more than grin and bear it. I would smile warmly and honestly, and gently help him be successful in the dance. Contra is, after all, a community dance, where each dancer's success makes the entire dance more enjoyable.

Dancing Blind ... and Backwards

Lesson 2: Closing my eyes opens up new worlds

I like to do social dancing (where the man is leading the dance, that is) with my eyes closed.

Today I went to a new-favorite dance of mine: the fais do-do (I think that's what they call it), a 4-hour zydeco and cajun dance jam that closes out Buffalo Jambalaya.

Most men are flattered when I ask them if it's OK if I close my eyes while we dance. They then have to take full responsibility for the lead (which is their job anyway), but they also become hyper-aware when they know my eyes are closed. And, in turn, I get to respond more fully to their lead (which is my job anyway), and I find that it's just easier to relax and be fluid when my eyes are closed.

Today, I was a bit nervous and uncomfortable when I first started to dance. See, this is only my second year attending this particular event, and I don't know the dance floor the way I know some of my regular dance spots. And it's a really big floor. In my initial discomfort, I was less responsive to my partner ... more protective and tense instead. But the "dancing blind thing" only works when I trust my partner 100% to lead. So, at the moment I was most wanting to close in and not trust him was when I had to do just the opposite to be successful. And to have fun.

So I took a deep breath, made a decision and got fluid, fast. And had fun.

I like it when my perspective changes and when I see things differently. Like today when the only way I was going to feel safe in a new environment was to let my partner lead and to do my job to follow. Dancing blind is something I do for fun ... and for the experience of changing my perspective, intentionally. I recommend it.

But only if you're a woman. ;-)

___

PS - The "dancing backwards" reference is specific to Cajun dancing. Most of a woman's moves in Cajun dancing are done moving backwards. It's a surprising workout on the legs.

Start with the basics, boys

Lesson 1: Rhythm is preferable to flash.

A friend invited me to a house party out in Olney. (Scary, those house parties can be sometimes.) Anyway, he mentioned some Zydeco folk would be there. I was game. I needed to get my Zydeco groove on. And lo and behold, the party was rockin.

Later in the evening I was talking with two couples who didn't know what this "Zydeco thing" was, so I did my best to explain what it was and why I loved it. I did a quick demo with two of the men to give them a sense of the dance beat. And my key words of wisdom to them were this: "Get the basic move down and don't worry about anything else in the beginning. Most women would much rather dance with a man who can hold the beat rather than a man who is showing off but not on beat."

Boys, men, guys: From the female side of the social dance scene: basic moves are better than flash. And, much as this may surprise you, but your job as a man is to create a space for your female partner to shine. That is the mark of a good male dancer. Not how well you shake-it-baby-shake-it. Save that for freestylin'.

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Wait! Is that a hula hooper in the middle of that YouTube vid. She looks like that HoCo Hoopstar spotted around town. :)

Hey, If you're in the mid-Atlantic region, there's a great Zydeco dance and music camp this weekend in Maryland. It's called Buffalo Jambalaya, and people regularly come from the whole Eastern seaboard (and farther) to attend. If you can't come to the whole camp, they have a Sunday dance, 12-4, that is open to the public for a $20 fee.