Today in the Wall Street Journal is an article entitled “Suddenly Everyone Is Scared to Dance at Concerts and Clubs”. The reason cited in the article is that people are afraid to dance for fear of being captured on social media and going viral in some meme for how “stupid” they look. When I read this I felt compelled to comment.
Prior to attending lessons at an Arthur Murray where I started to learn formally how to dance, I would always move with the music at various concerts I’ve attended. These movements ranged from mosh pits to ferocious headbanging to wavy armed undulations to the “chump shuffle” depending on the kind of music. Even though at the time I couldn’t really dance other than spontaneous movement, I never once felt self-conscious. The pressure in the article now comes from the ubiquitous cell phones and people recording every moment of their day rather than living it, which is a social factor I didn’t have to contend with. But I can tell you that I would not have cared even had smart phones been everywhere.
Unless choreographed, dance is a spontaneous expression of rhythm that moves your body in relation to music. Some people have more rhythm than others, some people are more graceful than others, some people are more expressive than others. The point is to enjoy the moment you’re in and how the music makes you feel. It’s a chance to non-verbally express who you are in a genuine way. Any form of expression in which one is vulnerable and separated from their daily composure is going to be a target of ridicule. Think about it, the social pressure is to remain flat, calm, unexpressive, collected. Dance is none of those things, thank goodness. That’s what makes it a ripe target for lurking “Blue Meanies” who despise any encounter with someone having a good time.
Prior to my involvement with Arthur Muray, I had never been to a dance club or to an event where the main activity was dancing. I remember the first time I went to a Team Match and observed people dance during the free time between the competitive rounds. To me it seemed exhibitionist, frivolous and degrading. I thought to myself, “Who the hell are these people to be having such a good time?!?!” But then I checked myself and wondered why I was so upset at seeing people having fun and enjoying themselves? Further, why was it acceptable for me to dance but not them? Later, after reflecting on the source of my emotions, I realized I was reacting negatively to the perception of something truly benevolent. These people were bringing their best selves forward in the expression of bodily rhythm through whatever capacity they possessed. It said, “I’m here! I’m alive, and I’m fantastic! Look at me!” My negative emotional reaction said more about the flaws in my own character than anything about the people dancing.
Take it one step further – Now that I’ve acquired some facility with dancing across multiple styles, I reflect back on the pressure to ask a stranger at a social event if they’d like to dance. For those styles at which I feel comfortable, this is now not a problem. I worry more about their skill level than mine. But it took fully two years for me to start to get over the discomfort of possibly embarrassing myself having just asked a beautiful woman to dance. How is someone who is concerned about becoming a fifteen minute meme on the internet ever going to overcome the fear of asking a partner to dance? And people wonder why they can’t find a date!
Through this whole journey – from spastic youngster to refined student, when I have felt compelled to dance, I do it for me. I do not care one bit about the judgmental eyes of those who may be watching. In the first place, unless we’re in a competition, their critique is neither warranted nor welcome, nor even relevant. Second, if someone does record a video and puts it on the web to embarrass, that act is decontextualizing the moment. It’s removing what happened from the time of its occurrence and trying to reframe the captured image into something that was never intended. The need to tear down is more indicative of the flawed character of the poster than the purported ridiculousness of the performer. And third, why would you let some random potential hater limit the amount of fun you can have with YOUR life?!?!
I would encourage those who feel constrained by social media exposure to reconsider their anxiety (and their level of social media engagement). Dancing is far less offensive when done poorly than any number of illicit or degenerate activities. To think to oneself, “I’m not going to have fun because someone might try to embarrass me,” is second-handed, putting some stranger’s evaluation over and above your own, allowing them to recontextualize your experience to suit their ends not yours. Take control of the moment to express who you are, in whatever level of ability you have. Modern culture seems to hate anyone or anything that openly expresses goodness and freedom. Dance is suited to express just that. We need MORE dance in our culture, not less.
