Push vs. Pull

Two weeks, I went contra dancing. During the second dance, the best and most fun guy to watch asked me to dance. I was thrilled. Since he is the best dancer and I am new, I didn't want to ask him to dance. When he asked me, I felt like the belle of the ball.

The rest of the night was downhill. I asked one guy to dance, and he said "No thanks," which was horrific. I nearly died. Another guy asked me to dance, but then he told me I was swinging all wrong. He tried to teach me, but it didn't work so well. He told me I needed to lean back instead of leaning forward. It worked, but not all the way. An elderly gentleman told me I wasn't surrendering to him. Good god I had no idea what that meant.

[For those of you who don't know what a "swing" is, it is when you dance with a partner, one hand on their shoulder and the other hand holding theirs. Then the two spin together like a top. It is similar to waltzing except you stay in one spot instead of moving across the floor. It looks easy, but I couldn't figure it out.]

After that, no one asked me to dance. I was sitting by the sidelines--the last one left--when someone who came back from the bathroom asked me to dance. Not because they had a choice about who to dance with. I was the only one left.

I felt like I had said or done something wrong, but no one told me what it was, like I stepped in dog shit or made an unwittingly cruel or harsh comment that got me shunned by the hive, the swarm. I felt like it wasn't just one person who was giving me the cold shoulder, but all of them, leaving me behind, excluding me. I was dropped. Canceled.

This was depressing. I love to dance. I want to part of the group. I want to be good at this. I didn't know what to do.

I told Pedro the story. 

"So it was a typical Seattle thing, where no one told you directly told you what you did wrong, but you were passive-aggressively shunned?" he replied.

Yes, basically.

"But you know how to dance," said Pedro. "You grew up dancing. You should be able to handle this."

"I know, right?"

But no.

After the dance that horrible night, I went home and I was really upset. Very upset. Instead of quitting, I went online and ordered a new pair of dance shoes from Capezio. I was going to figure this out.

Last Friday, I went early. Before the dance starts, the group offers lessons to newcomers. What I love about this dancing is they teach you the basic steps, and you follow along. There aren't months and months of lessons. There is no choreography. You just show up and follow the caller. Like chess, it takes minutes to learn. Unlike chess, it does not take a lifetime to master. 

Even still, I wasn't getting it. I've danced en pointe, which requires strength, coordination and technique. You don't just sign up for a pointe class and they hand you a pair of toe shoes and they say have fun. Nope. Pointe is like a black belt for ballet. You are told by your teacher when you are ready, often after years of training. This isn't some magical or exclusive thing. You could get seriously hurt if you aren't ready.

And I suck at folk dancing? WTF?

The other thing I know about dance is that you have to accept feedback and correction. All. Of. The. Time. It is a brutal sport when it comes to criticism. I didn't realize how much "feedback" one has to endure in ballet until I took a class as an adult. 

Point your toe.

Lower you hip.

Lift your chin. 

Shoulders back.

Rotate your hand.

And that is for just one position. Rinse and repeat.

When I was a kid, I didn't know how awful this was. I thought a constant flow of correction and adjustments were normal.

Last week before the dance, I was ready. My new shoes arrived at 4:00 p.m. The dance started at seven. I put on a red and yellow flowing skirt and a white shirt. 

I dug deep, deep, deep back into my ballet training: I ate a big slice of humble pie and asked for help. I opened my mind and was ready for a stream of corrections.

I told the group leader that I needed to learn how to swing, and he pointed me to two people--a man and a woman. The woman was danced both positions--lead and follow--which was exactly what I needed. The men I danced with rarely followed: they couldn't give me directions because they never danced in my position. This woman was going to be my salvation, and she was.

"I've never danced with a partner before," I said. "I am not understanding how to swing." I danced with her, and she immediately caught my fundamental error. When I put my hand on my partner's shoulder, I put it on the from on the arm, and pushed. 

"Your hand goes on the back of your partner's shoulder. Imagine you are hugging a barrel. Now gently pull back while you spin," she said.

Bingo.

A few weeks ago and country two-step, I learned to push. Now I needed to learn to pull.

"Each dance has a different position," she said.

Aha. I should have known.

I hit the floor, humbler and more confident. I danced with one of the elderly gentlemen who had a bad shoulder. He gave me some advice to how to help him manage, and we were off, spinning like a top. It was so much fun we both were laughing. Younger guys also asked me to dance--strong, competent, and confident dancers. It was a blast.

Life is so much more fun when you know what you are doing. It was just fun for me, but everyone else, as well.