March 9, 2011
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Dancing.
Community is a word that is constantly thrown around now on the political stage. “Community” meetings, “community” protests, “community” speeches, and “community” leaders. Its a way to legitimize and give the issue a more wholesome feel for a much larger and cut-throat issue.
The school I teach at has Community in its name. And despite the issues and differences every school comes across, with anything from fights, to drugs to pregnancy, it is the closest thing to family in the community that the students and teachers have. Last Friday night was a perfect example of what community really means.
Dancing.
It was a fundraiser for the Senior class here at school. A night of ballroom dancing, where 16 seniors chose 16 teachers to dance to songs in a ballroom format. I’m just the substitute here, I had no idea it was really going on. Then the senior advisor, an English teacher, asked me to be apart of it. I said fine, but no one asked me. She must have put the word on the street or something because literally the next period I had someone ask me, her name is Alyssa.
Alyssa is a cute little tomboy, who weighs just over a 100 pounds wet and refused to wear any sort of dress shoe for the actual competition. When told she had to wear a dress for this event, she scoffed: “I hate dresses.” When reading her college essay, it was about how the bruises and cuts on her legs from playing softball, I realized that she was dancing for the fun of it and not because she felt obligated. I became excited.
Now to show a little background for moi, I took 3 years of ballroom in college, because let’s be honest it was an awesome way to meet girls. They way you learn the dance in my classes was we all stood in a circle in the gym. The girls were on the inside and like it was some sort of expressive speed date we met every single girl in the class as they rotated every 5 minutes or so. We all had our favorites. The girl with the bigger chest you liked wearing either tight-fitting shirt or low-cut or both. The one who looked like she was the girl next door in a teen comedy where you were friends your entire life and then you realized you were the ones for each other. The curvy one with a dance background who held way too tight and at the same time, just the right amount of tight. There was also “bad-breathy,” “Jennifer Nopez,” and “Cousin It” (because her hair was always in her face). So, when I found out it was ballroom I had all the confidence in the world.
The night itself filled me with excitement, laughter and like I stated to start-off a sense of community.
The range of dancing, ability, humor and thought was broad. We had the AP Psychology teacher who considered shifting weight in rhythm good enough and keep your elbow as tight as possible the best solution to leading your partner. There was the Albanian immigrant Physics teacher who ended up doing a New Kids On the Block-type choreographed dance. There was the timid, yet engaging History teacher who did his best to moon-walk and give his partner a rose from his lapel.
There was also a fantastic Meringue from one of the Math teachers in a swaying mint dress. Or the VERY recently learned salsa from an English teacher which proved fantastic and not spastic in the least. Or even the winner for the evening: an Argentinian Tango from a Spanish teacher, who during one of the best moves of the evening was dipped by her Senior partner and a dramatic and fluid motion took the fedora right off his head and onto hers.
Our dance, went beautifully. I, dressed in an original Pierre Cardin silver pinstriped tux with purple ruffled dress shirt, she dressed in a strapless purple number ending just above her knees. One of the big moves during our presentation was to swing her underneath my legs. We made sure wore shorts for this, what we didn’t think about was her top…If you watch the video of us dancing you will continually watch her pulling up her dress but, and the part I’m most proud of, staying in rhythm.
So in the end we looked good, danced fantastically, had no Janet Jackson-esque fiascos and had the crowd chanting “10” for our scores. Alyssa was unbelievably enthralled with the atmosphere constantly high-fiving everyone and saying to me, “Dude, that was soo great.”
It was great. But not just because of the 3rd place performance or the successful avoidance of a wardrobe malfunction. But because the Seniors made their money, the crowd got their money’s worth and more and everyone found a new respect for someone else.
It could’ve been the homage to the “Pulp Fiction” twist scene for 2:30 minutes from an English teacher and the least rhythmic kid in the school. Or it could’ve been the boos from students who may not have really known the other student getting judged but greatly disagreed with the 8 being given for style. It also could’ve just been the energy in that old, drafty auditorium that was about to bust through every last asbestos-filled panel (okay not really, stay away T+G, WoMag). Anyway you look at it, asbestos or not, the school came together. It may not have been academic, but sometimes you need to build on making that foundation before you start building up. Community is the foundation. And maybe ballroom dancing as well.
