We should all be dancing more.

On Dance

We must be dancing more.

No matter who you are, what your body looks like, or how you move,

you must be dancing.

The world may feel bleak. You may be stressed and anxious and burnt out. And you must dance nevertheless.

Despite this.

Because of this.

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When I was in York, I went to a museum with my husband. There I saw a wonderful painting, with the text “because of sadness there is dance!”

As a dancer and someone who has dealt with a plethora of sadness, this stuck with me. The photo I took of it has been my phone lock screen for many years now. I love the sentiment. Because of sadness, because of pain and struggle, we create art. We dance. We take our hurt and nurture it and release it until we feel relief or just a little bit lighter.

This especially resonates in the time that we are living now. With a corrupt government and greedy billionaires, we must not let the doom and gloom get to us. We must carry on and we must dance.

When I say you should be dancing more I do not mean you have to take a Very Serious Ballet class. Unless you want to. You can add dance to your life in so many ways- whether you dance while your favorite album plays as you clean your house, alone in your bedroom, with your friends in the club, at line dancing nights, or drop in beginner classes at your local dance studio. No matter how you dance- whether your toes are pointed or your arms jiggle or you look a little stiff- you are a dancer nevertheless. All it takes to be a dancer is the act of dancing. And it doesn’t even matter if you haven’t danced in a while, you are still a dancer! And perhaps maybe this is your call to dance once again.

I have danced for most of my life. I am trained in a multitude of styles: ballet, jazz, contemporary/modern, hip-hop, musical theatre, and some tap. I have performed in countless dance competitions and recitals. Growing up, I remember a big conversation in those spaces was the argument of dance being a sport. This was a big debate, dancers are very athletic, yes, but is it a sport? I would say competition dance is, but dance in it of itself is not, rather it is an art form. As one who has frequented the dance competition space, it is very clear that the value lies in the technique. How many turns and tricks and leg holds can you jam into a two minute dance? If you couldn’t do an aerial, a million a la secondes, or hold your leg to your head, good luck getting an award. This was incredibly frustrating because although I was quite skilled as a dancer, I didn’t dance as much as these other kids did. I would get off stage feeling on top of the world about the performance I had just did, only to get shot down during awards because my performance or choreography was not as strong as the others.

This is how many kids are introduced to the dance world— competition, comparison, and rejection. And I hate it. Though it wasn’t all bad, competitions were a great way to see other dancers and get inspired and motivated, but this only goes so far in a young girl’s head. Rather than valuing technique (though it is important in order to not get injured, especially if you are studying styles such as ballet), I wish we put much more of an emphasis on dance as an art. How it makes us feel. Because that is why I went to dance class everyday. I loved it. I loved pushing my body and creating interesting shapes and textures along with the music. The dance studio was is my safe space, my happy place. Imagine how much better it would have been if we built our dance education off of that feeling.

I am not saying all dance studios who utilize competitions are inherently bad. I just think there are better ways to get kids performance opportunities. After I left, my dance studio changed ownership and decided to stop competitions and instead go to conventions. Dance conventions are a beautiful space for the student. Your world is opened up to all kinds of dance classes, taught by all kinds of people. And you get the opportunity to perform. Yes, if you are an insecure teen, you will compare yourself to other dancers no matter what, but instead of getting beaten down with a lower score, you leave the convention full of excitement of meeting other people in the community like fellow dancers and perhaps even a mentor or two. You leave with your dance cup filled to the brim.

Many dancers who grew up in the competition dance space gave up dance once graduating high school. They were burnt out from the pressure, even if they really loved the art form. And this breaks my heart. Once you go back to dance as an adult, you feel liberated. No longer are you bound by the pressures of the schedule, rushing to finish and master the choreography before the recital, the ugly costumes, fighting with your fake eyelashes. Instead, you sign up for a beginner modern class. You show up to class and see a mishmash of dancers, some new to the form and others well-versed. You gather, you dance together, and then you go your separate ways. Dancing as an adult allows the flexibility of frequenting multiple dance studios and classes, as many adult classes are drop-in only. So, if one studio doesn’t have all the styles you want to try, you can just go to another. Living in the Bay Area, I am so fortunate to be near big cities like Oakland and San Fransisco, full of dance opportunities.

I had been going to this modern class for about a year or two, when I decided I wanted to branch out and try other styles. I missed the feeling that jazz dance gave me, especially when it was on the sexier side. So I decided to try a heels class. And I love it and try to go each week. No matter how old we get, or how long it’s been since we have been in any type of class setting, it is never too late to be the student again. To explore and seek out new opportunities. Next, I want to see if I can find a Broadway style class.

Last weekend, I performed in a community showcase in San Fransisco. The instructor of the modern class that I take was choreographing a piece for it and mentioned it in class. I had been DYING for a performance opportunity (the one bummer about dancing as an adult and not being a professional is the lack of performances), and so I signed up. For ten weeks I would cross the bridge into the city and rehearse. Some dancers I knew from class, others I had never met before. The wonderful thing about this workshop is how collaborative it was. We dancers got to participate in the act of creation. A section of the piece was full of small groups, that we ourselves created the movement to. One dancer created the score for the piece. We had spoken word in the beginning, the words coming from some dancers writing, and other dancers speaking them. It was such a beautiful collective effort to create a piece of art. When performance weekend came, we were buzzing with excitement and nerves. In awe of the stage, the lights, the other performances. I felt right back at home. We left it all out on the dance floor. After the final performance, walking off stage to the green room, I got emotional. We were so elated with our performance and god, it just felt so good to dance in community on a stage with an audience. I was so proud and happy to have taken the leap to participate, proud of how I had just performed, and so sad that it was finally over. That is what dance is about. Community, collaboration, emotion. I can’t wait to do it again.

There’s a song by The Killers called Human. I’m sure you have heard of it. Brandon Flowers sings, “are we human or are we dancers?” It is sweet and kind of silly, though I think Mr. Flowers just missed the mark here. We are dancers because we are human. The one thing that sets us apart from all the other marvelous creatures that grace our earth is our ability to create art (though this may not be the case anymore with the painting elephants that I’ve seen on the internet.) I digress, what I am trying to say is dance is innately human. It’s ancestral. It is in our blood, our bones. Humans dance for many reasons- ceremonial dances like the first dance at a wedding or indigenous dances to bring a bountiful harvest or rain. We dance to let go and forget about our problems. We dance for joy. We dance for sadness and grief. We dance in community and in solitude. We dance to express, to feel free. We dance because we are human.

Although we have this innate ability to dance, it seems to me less and less people are going out dancing. Maybe it’s because more people are going sober, maybe it’s because everything is expensive, maybe it’s because people are afraid of being filmed, whatever it is, I think it’s a bunch of bullshit excuses. We only get this one life on this beautiful planet, so why not dance?

This is my call to you: take any opportunity to dance. At home as you wait for your microwave to beep, tap dancing in line at the grocery store, or on a sticky bar floor with friends and strangers. Dance outside if you can, at the beach or park, with the sun on your skin. Dance with the trees. Dance with your sweetheart to your song before putting on a movie. Show up to parties and bars and clubs, you don’t have to drink if you don’t want to, and just let loose. Who cares if everyone else is standing off to the side, in fact, if they see you dancing, they just might join you. :)