J. L. Spohr
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Dancing Me to Dust

5/28/2019

24 Comments

 
Picture
A seven-year old and his mom dance at the
​NW Folklife Festival 


​I saw that look you gave across the line. The look that says, “Why have you people come to ruin my amusements.” You, with your faded purple moon-child skirt, your salted, mousy hair, your well-earned wrinkles, mouth parentheses from frowns, not smiles. At least not smiles to earnest little boys, with hands the size of sparrows, and a heart beating just as wild and fast.

You take pride in your community of folk dancers. You welcome everyone, from the non-binary male in a tutu, to the un-deodorized scrawny boomer, to the smatterings of lesbian couples, to the teens in steam-punk garb. All these stereotypical outcasts are embraced here, and it’s a wonder, a joy, to behold. But you, you are just happy they know the steps. The casting, the pixie turns, the cross-heys. They have a firm grasp on your fingers and on their lefts and rights. So yes, you welcome them with self-satisfaction as you glide in perpetual motion down your dance, pat yourself on the back of your natural-fibered flowing tank top, lift your chin a little higher when you simply see “partner” across your aisle, with a studied liberalism that surely flies from your mouth in condescending and learned phrasing, but has never roosted in your heart.

Oh, you should have seen us earlier! He learned to Cajun dance, his bony shoulders squared to me, his quick-quick-slow sending me steadily across the dance floor, his hot head against my belly, reminding me he fit there inside me once. He never ran us into other dancers, just turning and grinning and sighing with contentment. The instructor praising the great job he did.

So he came here now, to your dance floor, proud and excited, just wanting to dance with his mommy again.

Is it that he is unabashedly a boy? Is that what set you askew? No matter. You decided your role the moment the music began, and I’ll never know from what rotting root it sprung.

And your decision was this: you shamed and embarrassed my son, you manhandled and growled at a seven-year-old child, you shoved him into the hands of strangers, then you snapped at his mother, hissing for me not to help him. And for what? Your moment to shine? Your moment to prove to the other dancers that you were one of them? That you were not some amateur mucking up the 1s and 2s? That this wasn’t just a hobby to enjoy, but a skill to be conquered and you veni vedi veci-ed like a Wagnerian Valkyrie? As if it weren’t obvious to everyone that a little boy was struggling to turn the right way, just waiting for the part he got to swing in a circle in the middle with his mom.

We were with you for less than thirty seconds of a fifteen-minute dance, but your utter scorn for my boy reverberated through his still soft and supple mind. When I ask him to dance swing with me later, he will decline. And both our hearts will find new fissures.

But not yours. No, yours is intact, swelling with satisfaction at your swirls and your twirls and your allemandes. Completely oblivious to the scoop you took, like a spilt-flavor gelato, out of my son’s sunny heart.

It isn’t kind of me to wish you ill, and kindness is the number one rule in our house. Yet somewhere in the quiet hollows of your mind, perhaps clawing all the way back to the places you do not visit, the places of your own insecurity, your own failings of courage; like the princess on her towering pile of mattresses with that incessant, insistent pea, I hope you feel a modicum of the shame you cast so blithely on my boy. So that the next time a child, with eager eyes and a snow-cone-stained smile stands next to you in the line of your precious, precise dance, you will bend to his height, look him in the eyes and say, “We are going to have a wonderful time.”



Author’s Note: I am wretchedly aware of how privileged this incident was. If this is the worst thing that happens to my kid and me in a day, we are winning this lottery of life. Case in point: a handful of hours later, a handful of miles away, three children and a mother were shot in a parking lot as they were leaving a day at the beach. My heart may have fissures, but that kind of violence rips hearts to shreds like a starving tiger to flesh. I know many mothers around the world wish my bad day could be their everyday. The woman I describe above is actually the amalgamation of about fifteen people my son and I encountered on the dance floor during one long, olde English tune. This was at the most liberal festival, in the most liberal city, in a most liberal expression outside of a drum circle. And if we supposedly liberal, supposedly open-armed, supposedly peace, love, and joy people could not extend kindness in the middle of a dance to the least among us, what hope is there for the rest of the world? What hope for mothers of shot children? What hope for homeless, and countryless, the weakest? So I do see my privilege here, and what I see brings me nothing but despair for our world.

​And yet, when I look into a pair of wide, olive-green eyes, a small hand slips into mine with a squeeze, and for a short, tender moment, I can breathe hope.



Picture
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24 Comments
Sarah Graham
5/29/2019 02:42:01 pm

I have no words because you took the best ones. Suffice to say, people suck.

Reply
J. L. Spohr
5/29/2019 03:51:06 pm

Thanks so much Sarah.

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Jane Ryder link
5/30/2019 09:07:54 am

That was stunningly, painfully, beautifully said. There are a lot of good people in the world, but there are also plenty who preach one thing and practice another, like Christians who don't live their Christianity, and liberals who only extend acceptance and non-judgment to people they recognize as belonging to their own tribe. I want to hunt these people down and ... and ... make them read what you wrote.

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J. L. Spohr
5/31/2019 03:07:12 pm

Thank you so much, Jane, so true.

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Arlene VanderDussen
5/30/2019 10:18:17 pm

It is so refreshing to hear your voice again Jennie. You accent moments and magnify their meaning in colorful and exquisite language.
Sure, you realize your privilege but you are a mother and someone took something unguarded and good from your cub and stomped on it as if it didn’t matter. You’re allowed to be royally ired (like that pun?).
Thanks for allowing us into your moment.

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J. L. Spohr
5/31/2019 03:07:59 pm

Love the pun :) - Thanks Arlene!

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Anonymous
6/1/2019 07:40:02 am

Labels. “Liberal”, “Christian.” How was the offending woman labeled? Or was she a composite of multiple people wearing labels?

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J. L. Spohr
6/1/2019 01:14:56 pm

I myself own the label liberal and proudly. The ”woman,” as stated in the author’s note, is a composite of about 15 people we danced with in the line. The distinction is that so many of us own our labels intellectually, but not with our hearts. You offer the perfect example with “Christian:” many who claim that label act in ways that would make Jesus turn tables again.

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Doug Plummer link
6/2/2019 09:20:23 am

I am so sorry you had this experience in the Roadhouse. I would like to think that it is not typical, and I'm taking a wild guess this may have happened at the English Country dance (by how you describe the moves), where they can get irritatingly fussy about form. I would like to think that in a contra dance line you and your son would have been greeted, should have been greeted, with joy and delight, and am distressed if that is not the case. I can suggest dances in town where I know that you would be embraced and welcomed.

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J. L. Spohr
6/2/2019 02:10:39 pm

Thank you Doug. And yes, it was the English Country dances. I have always found Contra to be marvelous and was expecting the same. Sadly, that was not the case. Thank you for your supportive message. And keep on dancing!

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Doug Plummer
6/2/2019 03:01:07 pm

Know that your post is generating a lot of discussion in the community, and I hope it can lead to some healthy changes.

L. Lisa Lawrence
6/2/2019 01:09:27 pm

#1. I am very sorry this happened in my home community, and I certainly hope it was not our local dancers making people feel this way.

#2. I hope it was not in fact in the Contra portion. Every child I saw in the Contra lines was smiled at and encouraged (of course I was not in every line nor was I there for 100% of the Contra dances)

#3. Even if this was English Country Dance and not Contra, this should not happen in any form of participatory dance at an open festival. If there are expectations as to age and skill for participation, those need to be made clear (or maybe the open participation portion of the festival isn't appropriate for that dance form)

#4. The Emerald City Contra Dance put out a message after Folklife reminding community members to be extra welcoming, gentle with and helpful to newcomers who will come after experiencing Contra at Folklife. THAT is what we should all aspire to be it at our local dance or at a festival.

#5. We all need to find ways to prevent this type of interaction/perception in the future. We want to welcome newcomers and encourage rather than discourage our next generations of dancers.

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J. L. Spohr
6/2/2019 02:01:10 pm

Wow, Lisa, thank you so much. We did find it odd that at the open to the public dances people were so unforgiving about steps. My husband and I danced one line before my son and I and we had no idea what we were doing at that point too. Unfortunately, the same sort of snippy, eye rolling/annoyance happened to us as well. Perhaps the English dance should be performance only on stage...or perhaps the English dancers can remember dancing is supposed to be fun.

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L Lisa Lawrence
6/2/2019 03:14:56 pm

Also, I have shared this on a couple of our local Contra dance groups in hopes that via the cross pollination of the two dance forms this message will get to those who need to see it.

Emma Rushton
6/3/2019 08:07:22 pm

It's very painful to hear (yet again) that English dancers are so much less welcoming and joyfully tolerant than other social dancers. We've confronted this in my community, and while we've improved greatly, we still have to be vigilant, and occasionally remind a small number of people that even one eye-roll can make someone decide never to try English dancing again. Why are people like this? Very often it's the less secure dancers, who are easily confused by a new dancer going the wrong way. I'm very sorry your son had this experience. I wish I could encourage you both to have another go, but sadly, it's not certain you'd have a better experience. Any time you are in Nashville, do bring your son! We will welcome you both.

Victoria
6/2/2019 04:09:09 pm

I’m sad to hear that people were mean to you and your son, but this post is pretty disparaging to queer folks. Can you try to me a little more gentle in your language? Maybe think more about how a non-binary person or a lesbian would feel if they read it?

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J. L. Spohr
6/2/2019 04:28:13 pm

Thank you for your gentle reminder, Victoria. I thought referring to "stereotypical outcasts" as well as the wonder of seeing so many people of different persuasions together. Obviously I'm still learning and I'd love to talk to you about this further offline. Do you mind contacting me through my contact link?

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Victoria
6/3/2019 03:35:28 pm

Hello JL,

Thank you for responding and being receptive to a conversation. I would like to have one, but I am not sure if I have the time right now to consolidate my thoughts, which are a little bit disorganized, into an email.

I might contact you later this week if I find the time to do so. In lieu of that, I will just say that I agree with Grace’s comment after mine re: treatment of children not being comparable to discrimination against LGBT+ individuals.

Stephanie Marie
6/3/2019 05:57:28 am

I also felt many of the depictions of the first two paragraphs were more hurtful than helpful. I'm a contra dancer (10 years dancing, 6 calling around the Carolinas) who happens to be transgender. The overall point of kindness to all participants is a very good one. It took some time for an otherwise welcoming community to become used to me. I suffered a fair amount of abuse. Fortunately, the good points far outweighed the bad ones, and I was willing to invest that time. After about two years of dancing, the bad incidents dropped off in a big way.

The acceptance didn't happen overnight, but it did happen. I hope we can give the same to all on the dance floor.

Reply
Grace
6/2/2019 04:45:07 pm

Hello J.L.

As a queer dancer at folklife who very much fits the bill of the “outcasts” you are describing here, I can attest that reading this was hurtful.
As someone who did not participate in the English dancing at folklife but was present nearly the entire weekend in other forms of participatory dance, I am indeed saddened to hear that you had a negative experience. With that being said however, I think the way in which you have written this (while written powerfully) completely villainizes dancers who were most likely just trying to help. My first time every dancing was at folklife when I was a tween, and I too got instruction mid-dance from dancers on how to do moves and such. As a older and more experienced dancer now who will sometimes offer guidance on the dance floor, I can only imagine that these comments were most likely made to try to help. While I can attest that some old-timers may be more set in their ways and may have wanted to enjoy their dance “child-free,” I think there is a huge mistake being made with how that should paint the dancing community as a whole.
As far as your observing how participatory dance “accepting outcasts,” accepting children cannot and should not ever be equated with accepting gender-identities, sexualities, or other “outcast” groups. Being a queer and gender non-conforming dancer who has found safe haven in the dance community, it pains me that you have so grossly misconstrued some dancers wishing to dance with adults only, into a whole dance community committing a crime against acceptance. While you may have been saddened that your young child couldn’t fully participate in this part of folklife, that should not be compared with contempt, prejudice, and violence that “outcasts” have fought against to create the accepting community dance is today.
Again, I am very sorry that you felt hurt by the English community. I do hope that when your child is older and more able to participate fully, they will be welcomed with open arms! I also would encourage you to ask dancers of participatory dances how best to integrate your child in dancing! For contra, I know some dancers find it best to hold their children throughout the dance as children’s little feet sometimes cannot keep up! I hope that this negative experience will not bar you from chasing down your child’s passion for dance!

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J. L. Spohr
6/3/2019 05:54:33 pm

Thank you so much for your thoughtful response, Grace. I've always found the dance community to be generally wonderful, accepting, and lovely. And yes, while some perhaps thought they were helping, their tone, facial expressions etc. portrayed disdain and anger - as opposed to those who actually *were* helping, with a smile or a laugh or a light lead.
I see your point that we outcasts (and yes, I put myself in that category - I find it interesting, as a side note, that many posters assume I'm a cis female hetero - probably because I appear so?), and children aren't the same in struggling for rights and respect. I'm sorry if that dichotomy obscured the overall point that mean spiritedness in spaces that are supposed to be safe and fun, are promoted as such, fail to be so.

This was a single experience at a public festival advertised as an all level participatory event. If children and other newbies were not wanted it should have been noted, really anywhere. I get that the dance community works hard at being open, and that my blog is probably not helping here, and yet, it happened. Over and over. Even after asking if it would be appropriate for my son to dance, even after suggesting we leave the line. Yes, seeing my crestfallen kiddo was sad, but to feel rejected in a place I'be known to be embracing was crushing. No, it's not the same as a trans struggle, for example, but none-the-less, it put a pall over what was otherwise such a wonderful and joyous celebration of the diversity that is Seattle.

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M Finch
6/2/2019 05:29:51 pm

I love when kids are dancing and the joy they bring to dance. I have only been contra dancing 3 years and there have been a couple of times I have been reduced to tears at the hands someone’s frustration and mean comments at my less experienced dancing. Thankfully, it’s only been a couple of times. It should never happen. May your son continue to find the joy of dance!

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William
6/3/2019 09:34:07 pm

J. L.:

Thank you for your thoughtful message. I didn't dance the English sessions, but do remember at least once during a VERY crowded contra session seeing a very young boy and likely parent dancing together. I commented to my partner that I couldn't imagine what the boy's experience would be like, dancing submerged in a sea of legs and bodies. We were both struck by the amount of room nearby dancers seemed to give that couple. Despite the general crowding, that couple had plenty of room, and wasn't at risk of getting crushed, bumped, or stepped upon. We were both very heartened by that impression (whether accurate or not).

I hope that you and your son find satisfying dance experiences again.

Best regards,

William

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Stephen Golovnin
6/10/2019 04:22:24 pm

That boy and his parent dancing at the Folklife Contra was likely my 6 year old son and I. It's a very tricky thing to involve him in, as injury is always just a step or an elbow away. I am eternally grateful to the Seattle Contra community for being so warm, accepting, and gentle with his participation. At Folklife, I was a bit more nervous than usual due to the number of new people who were not-quite-as-in-touch with their bodies. Yet it was a very generous spirit that was in place at this event, and very inclusive.

I am in agreement with others that J.L.'s choice of words was unfortunate in her comparison of her and her son's experience to 'outcasts'. Also unfortunate was the blurring (or lack of definition) in the original post as to whether this was English Country or Contra Dance or any other of the many styles presented at Folklife. Some styles of dance do not appeal to me personally for any number of reasons. Expecting others to conform to my needs as a dancer is a personal hell that I would rather not descend to. It's easy enough to find the dance styles that resonate well with who I am and are also more inclusive and safe for my son to interact with. My question for J.L. would be, if you and your adult partner received a less than warm welcoming to your new-ish dance participation, why would you involve your son in it for the next dance? As a father who loves dancing with his son, this is one that I can't quite wrap my head around.

I truly hope that you do find your place within the dance community of your choice. And find a way to continually involve your son. It's a priceless gift.

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