My name is Seth and I am a 42-year-old straight, white male from the South who makes money writing software. Am I even allowed to learn dance? I’ve always thought of myself as clumsy and uncoordinated. I was the kid in P.E. thinking: ‘Okay, you want me to run AND catch the ball? Can I pick one or the other?’ I was the smart kid in school, not the cool kid. I was the adult at a wedding reception sporting the same three dance moves I’ve used since high school…after a few drinks.
My pandemic baby was a determination to learn to dance.
Like many, I reviewed every facet of my life during quarantine while watching Netflix. I imagined laying on my deathbed one day, however distant it might be, and asking myself, “am I proud of my life?” I imagined, if asked now, I would answer: ‘not yet.’ Then, I asked myself, what would make me proud even if I failed?
My name is Seth and I am a 42-year-old straight, white male from the South who makes money writing software. Am I even allowed to learn dance? I’ve always thought of myself as clumsy and uncoordinated. I was the kid in P.E. thinking: ‘Okay, you want me to run AND catch the ball? Can I pick one or the other?’ I was the smart kid in school, not the cool kid. I was the adult at a wedding reception sporting the same three dance moves I’ve used since high school…after a few drinks.
I began making changes in my life, big and small, because the desperation to live proudly trumped my fear of it all. I am not sure where dance fits into that exactly, but I knew I wanted to learn. Also, I had tried and loved 5Rhythms, a method of dancing with little instruction or preset choreography: I would dance my three moves all night long. Could I learn more moves?
Dance 101 was the first result on Google; I emailed them about their Dance Fundamentals Workshop which is a series of introductory classes that teaches the basics of structured dance – things like the 9 universal steps, how to pick up choreography, how to turn, what a dance class is like, etc. I pressed send in a hurry using up the tiniest reservoir of fleeting courage. On that first day, Ofelia, the owner of the studio, taught a small group of us the basics and helped us choose which classes to try first. Since that first class almost two years ago, I have attended many classes of various styles, made incredible friends, and developed a new relationship with my body.
Here is what I learned during my time at Dance 101 (as a male):
Learning to dance is 20% practicing moving your body and 80% getting over yourself. The hardest part is walking through the door. If you’re even reading this, you’re 52% over yourself. Keep going and sign up.
If you have no background in dance, their Dance Fundamentals Workshop is a kindness you can give yourself. When someone is ready to start something new, one mistake often made is taking too big of a step or taking action with too little support. Dance 101 is a premier dance studio in the United States for adult beginners because their focus is your success. Someone told me outside the studio that Dance 101 has industry-level teachers for the general public, and I felt grateful and proud that I was learning there.
By and large, men are afraid to learn to dance. Men have very little social support to learn, so fear is common. According to the National Institute of Made-up Statistics, public speaking is the most common fear and dancing is a close second. Sometimes it seems that men lock themselves into a chosen identity by age 25 and ride that shit out. We risk dying on the vine as a corporate provider, good guy dad, or whatever-the-fuck. In that stagnancy, our marriages fail, our bodies age poorly, and our hearts….what…our hearts? Yeah. I am determined to avoid this fate, and Dance 101 has been a gift to me in this endeavor.
Our culture has changed over the past 50 years regarding what is acceptable for men to explore and develop. While male dancers are highly regarded and admired, there’s some disconnect in effect for the general male population to take up the exploration of learning the art.
Why are we afraid?
When speaking frankly and openly, we will say we are afraid of a few things (and I know some women will probably relate to these as well):
1. People will think I’m terrible in class.
You won’t believe me when I say this: No one will criticize you at Dance 101. In my first hip-hop class, I felt so lost. With every new move I was asked to try, it felt like my brain and body were having a back-and-forth conversation saying, “You want me to do what? Hips in a circle? huh?” I gave it my best, and two people came up to me after and genuinely told me, “You did great” and “I love your energy.” I was grateful to them, and it mattered. Also, after that class, I felt good, really good. It didn’t matter how well I danced. It mattered that for one hour, I was fully present, in my body, trying that shit. And the music was good.
In class, we are all learning. We all started somewhere. And, by all means, come dance next to me in the back of the class if it helps you. The person to your left is just as likely to have been dancing only a few days or weeks as it is likely that the person to your right has been dancing for 20 years.
If you’re nervous, find the nearest person and say, “Hi, I’m new here, and I’m a little bit nervous.” That’s all. They will go out of their way to welcome you and ensure you’re cared for (because they remember when it was their first day, too). If you’re strong enough to be humble and ask for help, you will receive a powerful gift: freedom. The Freedom not to be expected to know anything. I can practice being a beginner at Dance 101. We all deserve to learn anything we want, regardless of age or gender.
2. I will think I’m terrible in class, which is too hard for me.
This is the most substantial fear underneath it all. I would argue that fear of humiliation is stronger than fear of death because if you die, at least it’s over. You must feel those feelings for a long time if you’re humiliated. No one wants to relive what happened on the school bus.
You’re coming to learn is an act of self love, and that kid in school has a parent protecting them now. That parent is you.
I am learning respect, humility, and joy. Each teacher offers themselves fully for you to hear what they hear, move how they move, and love how they love. Dance 101 is run by staff and teachers who respect their students regardless of prior training and are magnanimous in the sharing of their talent, training and experience. The teachers and staff here are all about giving to others. It’s actually written into their mission statement and is their #1 strongest core value as a business. When you spend time around creatives who are givers, it has an impact on you. I am learning to relate to others from my body and heart instead of my mind and words. I am learning to experience feeling connected to people who don’t look like me in a way that, even if just the tiniest amount, bypasses the separation of my trained entitlement. I am not one to use the word ‘joy,’ but joy has been my experience.
By dancing through those fears, I lost nothing and gained so much. It affected every part of my life. There have been classes where I felt “okay, I have a lot to learn” and others were “okay!!!! I am making progress, that was awesome.” In every case, I felt better about my day and myself after coming to class.
I learned that I came to dance so I could come to life.