As for the characters in the video, they’re Emily and Mike. Emily is one of my favorite people (we used to stay out late dancing every Wednesday…those were the days). Mike is her boyfriend and also one of the most creative dancers I know. This film was taken at Glen Echo on Friday the 13th. There’s nothing particularly special about the video (Mike & Emily are even better when they’re performing) but I just wanted to try this out and capture a fun dance.

Emily & Mike at Swingin the Blues on July 13, 2007 at Glen Echo Park. Just a random dance that I figured I'd capture 

It turns out that I’m going to have to update WordPress to fully support YouTube embeds, and hopefully to solve the issue of the ugly white border on the video…

At their core, the teens I know crave touch, they crave contact, they crave intimacy. But they are also often confused and frightened, unsure of how to ask for what they really want, afraid of losing control or of being violated. The lesson of ballroom dance, whether it has its origins in the tropics or in Viennese salons, is that with practice and with respect we can learn to touch each other safely. We learn to move not only in response to our own needs, but in response to the needs of our partner.

As someone who has taught parter-dance (swing, salsa, ballroom, etc) to children & adults, danced for about seven years, and had many a conversation on the topic…I must say the posting is right on the money. Not only does dance help to create intimacy (within a safety of limits defined by the nature of the dance), but through time it can really help to foster confidence in many social circumstances, whether they involve touch or not.

When I began dancing I was somewhat comfortable with touch. Fast forward a year or two and I became much touchier than most of the guys I knew. Even more, I became more aware of the presence I could put forth in various settings. By offering a physical language of communication, dance can dramatically bolster people’s comfort-level in any social environment.

Touch is a connecting force, a basic need, and a way to offer & receive comfort…but dance is one of the few places where we’re required to touch. As the posting pointed out, however, (certain types of) dance also sets limits. Again, a valuable lesson for us all.

I haven’t written too much about dance lately…but along with writing and technology, it’s probably my most defining interest. Developing comfort with touch and confidence in social settings are just two of its benefits. If you haven’t been out swing dancing, give it a try. It’s amazing how profound of an effect it can have on all sides of life…

The dancers that I see every night don’t seem to change very much, and they usually dance how I’d expect. But they didn’t always dance that way.

They started off sucking and working hard…until they could finally worry about who they were and forget about the steps that got them there. They needed a solid foundation before they could start being an individual.

It’s very difficult to teach any more than the fundamentals. Some people pick that up really fast, whether it’s multiplication tables, big words, or dance steps. But at a certain point the math geeks stick to math, the poets write a lot, and the good dancers stand out. And these are often not the people who started on the right foot.

A lot of it is natural talent that finally kicked in. At a certain point skills just click, at which point one can begin to experiment. To improve from that point is what takes the most effort and patience. Most never get from the foundation to sophisticated personal expression.

It’s hard and it’s frustrating. Knowing that my orientation will never be as complex as Ian’s or that my feel will never be as grounded and centered as Chiles is difficult for me to accept. I feel like they’re dancing how they see the world and there’s nothing else to it.

My partners see my world, too, but it’s not as fluid and predictable a place as I’d like. My thoughts are often difficult to follow. I jump to conclusions. I get stuck on one thought and have trouble holding onto the rest of the conversation. I don’t know that I was meant to dance.

But my talents have gotten me further than most. I didn’t start off as a natural but I’m working on honing who my character tells me to be… on the dance floor and in the real world.

I’m not a natural, but I guess I could be. It’s worth a try…

The world does not go on without people making decisions and acting upon them. These actions are hardly arbitrary–people take on responsibilities. Talk about kids all you want, but that means little until you’ve got a 2 week old in a cradle. Explain how you want to play an instrument but nothing happens until you feel it beneath your fingers. Talk is cheap, the world goes round by actions.

At their own choice, people avoid responsibilities like the plague. “I’m busy, I don’t have the time, I wouldn’t know how to do it well.” Well, I have news for you: if you don’t do it then it won’t get done. Or maybe it will, but don’t complain when it’s not how you like it. If you don’t take responsibilities on for yourself then your world will not be your own, and you will die without affecting people. Sad, isn’t it?

I’m not saying “carpe diem,” whether or not I feel that’s the right approach. I’m saying that nothing will happen if you don’t do it. Nothing.

Why mention this? I’ve been trying fairly hard to get lindy hop started up again here in Memphis. It’s working: we had almost 30 people at my dance last night. And I’m leaving all my work for my friends to continue the dance.

They want to continue dancing. But there will be no dancing, not if people don’t take the responsibility on for themselves. One can’t be timid or go half-way; one has to accept the responsibility.

And it’s not a terrible thing. When you do for yourself, a strange thing happens: you enjoy it when things end up exactly as you want them. Working hard for the dance community here as been ridiculously rewarding: meeting people, learning more about teaching, getting people interested in dance, turning a little profit, but most importantly, having a place to dance where it’s just about having a good time. That’s the kind of dance that I like, but there was nothing like that here. Now there is.

But this isn’t about me. Because, though I worked, it wasn’t terribly hard. Someone else could’ve done it. And from this point onward it only gets easier. It’s just a matter of getting past the initial stages, in whatever it is you take on. Then it becomes worthwhile and even enjoyable.

So go! Do what it is that you want to do, and take responsibilities on for yourself. It’s amazing how much you’ll enjoy it and affect those around you. People think you’re superhuman, but it’s just a little initiative you took. It’s nothing more.

Don’t be forgotten. Don’t let your world spin uncontrollably. Act!

Memphis does suck sometimes. So it was about time for a road trip. Don’t get me wrong, there are a few good ballroom dancers in Memphis, but the swing scene in Nashville is a lot bigger and a lot younger. So Ahuva and I decided to seize the moment and get the hell out.

We ran into some bizarre things – like cars with go-cart wheels and posted 24mph speeding limits. But it was okay, because Opryland Hotel was absolutely beautiful. If I ever have a reason, I’d love to stay there, live there. Even with the tourists it’s an absolutely wonderful place.

It’s this gigantic (free) indoor garden, complete with boat tours, fish, fountains, exotic plants, restaurants, sunlight, air conditioning, and lots of walkways. I needed some mother nature, and this sure beat 100 degree weather…

After checking out Opryland, Ahuva and I went to Cracker Barrel, as I have yet to eat there. We probably should have tried out “Cock of the Walk,” which sounded interesting, but I’d never been to a Cracker Barrel and we were a little pressed for time…

And there certainly was a long night ahead of us. We went dancing at the Knowles Center, which had a huge turnout, and then headed off to a small bar called Atlantis. The dancing was mostly east-coast, but there were lots of cuties and a few great follows – like Rosa, who is the sweetest girl :).

After two fun dances a few of us left to go to Cafe Cocomo. Unfortunately it wasn’t as smooth a trip as we’d like, as Holmes and Aisha’s car was broken into. But the two of them handled it very well (I was impressed) and we all continued on our way to the Cafe.

It was a good time there, and there was even room for some modeling in the parking lot while they were vacuuming out the smashed glass from the car. Check out Aisha in her home-made swingwear! (Bobby’s on the left)

At around 5am Ahuva and I crashed at Rosa’s and went right to sleep. Then we chatted in the morning and got back to Memphis around 6pm. It was a great trip. And the people we ran into were really wonderful. Dancers really kick ass :).

I could go on and on, but I should back to work. How was your weekend?

I really gave it all my all, too. I tried to be patient and to take my time with things. I practiced and took notes on all the classes. And, having not set any expectations for myself, I felt really good knowing they would have been exceeded anyways.

The moves and exercises we learned really rocked. Steven & Virginie and Paul & Sharon showed us some really great information about connection and illustrated it well with some blues steps. Rob & Diane taught us some awesome passes and were really clear. And Anna & Frederik… well let’s just say Anna has some nice isolations ;)…

And the people… I certainly met folks from all walks of life. I love how swingers stem from such a potpourri of backgrounds. I shouldn’t mention too many names because I’ll forget some, but I need to thank… Carol & Jori for the amazing dances, Meg for the medicine chats, Peter & Alec for the deep thoughts, Mike for being so darn cool, and Kim for being an all-around great person. A few of them are in the pictures attached to this entry…

With all the workshops and the people though, it was the socials at night that really made Beantown so worthwhile. By dancing with the same people for seven nights one can really figure a lot out, and (at least in my case) start feeling really comfortable on the floor. I can honestly say that I’ve never felt as physically connected with people as I did this week. But there’s no need to use your imagination…

All in all this was just a great experience and I really hope to attend many more dance camps in the future. This one was worth every cent, along with every tired minute I spent not sleeping. I could go on and on, and I have already with my friends, but I’ll just leave you with this: find something you really enjoy and give yourself some time to really fall in love with it. It’ll make life a fulfilling experience…

~Elbert Hubbard

I’ve danced the last _nine_ nights. I’ve seen people that I haven’t seen in a while, made a lot of friends, and eaten at a lot of diners. We’ve talked dance, relationships, basketball, and philosophy; and we’ve bitched a lot. We’re all different people: we dance differently, we want to dance differently, and we’re at different stages in our lives. But we all dance.

On the one hand that gives us an important bond. I could travel anywhere in this country and have a place to stay and a welcoming group of friends. But within every group there is some tension, and it ain’t just counterbalance. I know that I’m being judged. I don’t dance like DC dancers. Hell, I dance better with people who don’t have an idea of what the dance _should be_. 6-months of _dance_ makes a more open-minded follow than 12-months of Hollywood or Savoy. And I don’t think I have to dance your dance to make you have a good time.

Part of it’s my own fears, and part of it’s healthy… but I just don’t enjoy that this scene is so latently competitive. And that I’m becoming pickier, too. That I don’t like at all.

I have a clear preference for certain music, DJs, and follows. I know why I didn’t have a good time tonight, but I don’t need to point fingers. People around here do it enough to make up for me. Sometimes I feel like I’m in high school, complete with cliques and labels and all.

Fortunately most of the time I just get to dance, and enjoy it for what it is. Sometimes I’m in the spotlight, and sometimes I still get turned down. But all the while I know that I’ve gotten somewhere and will continue to progress in my own way. I just want to have fun. I don’t think this needs to be such a big deal. I need to rest…

“A blind man on a canyon’s edge of a panoramic scene, or maybe I’m a kite that’s flying high and random dangling a string, or slumped over in a vacant room, head on a stranger’s knee, I’m sure back home they think I’ve lost my mind.”

~Ben Folds

There’s no pretending who I am. You can’t either. Last night I spent time with a friend that’s truer to himself than anyone I’ve ever met. Sadly the system doesn’t seem to work for him, or maybe he doesn’t work for the system… but he’s true and I respect him for that.

This afternoon I spent an hour trying to defend the person he is. My other friend couldn’t accept my explanation for his actions. But don’t you see? He’s real. He doesn’t care if his behavior makes sense all the time–he knows what he wants. He has definite opinions. He doesn’t play games. He’ll lose if you beat him, but he’s not going to give in easily.

I still can’t really defend him… nor anyone else, for that matter. There are arguments I can use. I’m constantly reading and learning about the strengths and weaknesses in people’s arguments–that’s both what I study and who I am. But there’s only one person’s beliefs I can truly defend, without playing roles or making assumptions: me.

But how real am I? Am I just a product of you and you and you? No; I’ve already tried that route.

I’ve tried stealing your moves on the dance floor. I’ve tried applying your morals to my actions. I’ve tried taking advice…just because it’s from you who I respect.

But I only look like me on the dance floor. Try to deny that…. I can’t do what you do or use your explanations; they never leave me satisfied. And much as I may respect you, your advice can only encompass part of the story. You’re not me….

I am. And I’m not bits and pieces, just one cohesive person. What I write now or say later is as real as you’re going to get. This is where I want to live. I’ll never dance or date like you. I’ll hold onto my pen and paper, hoping but not needing my words to make sense to you. I can’t deny the truth.

To the right is a message board from my floor. There was a contest going on as to who could make a certain girl smile the most. The counts were based on how many smiles she sent over AOL Instant Messenger in a given time period. (Also note that some of the people were judged by how many times she frowned.) Maybe this is too simple a system to judge one’s success, but it’s often what it comes down to…

Last night Eric and I went out to Baltimore and on the drive back he said something that really made my night:

Style and all that aside, the one thing that was definitely true for all the songs you danced was that both you and your partner were really happy.

That’s my goal in dance: enjoying myself and making my partner feel good. I don’t think it’s so important if you look good or if you know a lot of moves, it’s whether you assure your partner that you’re happy to be dancing with her, and she the same with you. Chiles and I reflected on that the other night, with regards to Genea and Julianna. They’re great followers, yes, but they also smile and look at you the whole time. It just makes it so much better. You can’t have a bad dance with someone like that.

Now of course it takes some confidence to smile and let yourself enjoy yourself, but whenever it happens it’s just so great. My thought is this: if you make eye contact and smile then they’ll enjoy you that much better. So tonight, in my smiley shirt, I’m gonna go out dancing with the intent to do just that; I want to be contagious :).