Saturday Feb 9, 2019 Dance class day 1
I woke up this morning full of anxiety about having committed to taking my first dance class in almost a year. It’s been almost 15 years since I stopped dancing seriously (with the hope of eventually doing it professionally), and though I still take a class every now and then, I am not at all the dancer that I once was.
I often regret that I completely turned my back on something I once loved so much, but it became sad and painful for me to dance after I came to the realization that I didn’t have the talent to ‘make it’ as a professional. I still feel very connected to the art form and attend dance performances frequently, but actually dancing has become somewhat stressful for me. I can’t move the way I used to, and I struggle to remember choreography.
I chose an Afro-Caribbean class in order to ease myself back into the idea of dancing. Not that Afro-Caribbean is easy, but it tends to be looser, non-judgmental and more about just having fun than other more technical classes. But I have never been to this class or studio and have no idea what to expect. I worry there will be professionals there and everyone will laugh at me. Will I be too old, too fat, too slow to keep up? I am nervous I will make a fool of myself and want to call this whole project off.
But, somehow despite my anxiety, I decide to go anyway.
The space (at Mark Morris dance studio near my apartment in Fort Greene) is big, bright and beautiful. The live drummers are starting to play as I come in. There seem to be attendees of all ages, shapes and sizes, so I am immediately relieved not to be the only ‘amateur’ in the class. As usual, I find a spot in the back corner where I can hide if I start to mess up the moves. But it turns out the first hour of the class is all about gentle stretching and isolations. I am delighted by how easy it is. The teacher is patient and kind, and I quickly start to feel more at ease. When we take a break half way through, she comes around and gives a welcome hug to every single student. I feel seen and part of the community.
Slowly, the class builds into practicing combinations going across the floor. This can sometimes be very stressful in a small class or when the steps are difficult, but Patricia is patient and lets people practice along the sides of the studio while they wait their turn. Thankfully, she helps those who are struggling with the combo, and I am actually able to pick up the steps relatively easily. Even better, because we aren’t facing the mirror, I can’t criticize my movement or body even if I wanted to. When I start to hear old, repetitive thoughts about not being good enough, about being too fat or too slow or not on the beat, I have to actively talk myself out of them. I have to remind myself I am ok as I am. I decide not to listen to my inner critic and carry on – and it feels amazing.
By the end of the class, I feel a million times lighter. I feel grateful for the movement, the music and the ability to dance (even if not well). My faith in the purpose of this project is restored, and I am incredibly thankful to be making my return to dance
