I am an advanced dancer. Do you know what it’s like to be me? Are you sure?
Turns out newbie Rebecca carried a lot of wrong assumptions about advanced dancers. These assumptions reach almost mythic proportions in the lindy hop community. It seems like every scared newbie believes them.
I’d be doing you a disservice if I let you believe these myths. Let’s break it down. I’ll tell you what it’s like to be me, and what I found out about other advanced dancers once I got to know them.
Note: In this article, “advanced dancer” means anyone you think is better than you, anyone you find intimidating.
I began intimidating people a few years after I started dancing. I was blissfully unaware. One day a student said to me, “I’m afraid to ask you to dance because you’re so good. You’ll notice all my mistakes.”
Cue the sound of a heart getting crushed, ‘cuz that’s how I felt. Which brings me to…
Advanced Dancer Myth #1: They’re judging me!!!
I’m not judging you while I’m social dancing with you. I’m not watching you from the sidelines, thinking about how much you suck. I don’t assume you are a boring/awkward/annoying person based on your dance level.
Really.
Really.
Really.
Advanced dancers aren’t thinking about your dancing. They are thinking about their own dancing. That’s how they get better at dancing.
I am rooting for every single person I dance with. I want you to do your best, have fun, and laugh off your mistakes. I am on your side, because dancing is more enjoyable that way.
If anyone is really judging you while dancing with you, that’s their shit to deal with. It’s not your fault they aren’t focusing on themselves.
Advanced Dancer Myth #2: They make better friends.
Take your lindy goggles off. Advanced dancers are normal people.
Being good at dancing doesn’t necessarily make me at all interesting in any other way. My other interests, values, ideas, and hobbies (hopefully) make me interesting. If you want to know me only because I’m good at dancing, I am sorry. I need friends who are closer than skin-deep.
Advanced dancers are equally as boring as dancers at other levels. Why are you surprised? It’s not like we’re all outgoing and extroverted.
Advanced Dancer Myth #3: They are more outgoing and extroverted.
There are some very outgoing extroverts at high levels of dancing. But being advanced does not make you more extroverted. And getting good at dancing does not require you to be extroverted in the slightest.
I am introverted. That means I get energy from being alone, while social interactions cost me energy. Notably, I work from home and am alone 8+ hours per day. It’s awesome!
I like social dancing for the structured social environment. You ask someone to dance, connect for 3 minutes without talking, then part ways. This is a huge relief compared to parties with strangers and open-ended, free-form social interactions.
Extroverts get energy from social interactions. They love to initiate dances and conversations with new people all night. And they don’t need a break from this—they could do it all day, every day!
That’s not me in the slightest. Nope, nope, nope. So don’t think it’s you if I ain’t talking to you. It’s definitely me!
Note: Many people are somewhere in between: Part introvert, part extrovert. That’s cool too. Just try to understand that other people’s social tolerances are not about you.
Advanced Dancer Myth #4: They are immune to criticism.
My feelings are hurt when people I don’t know call me and my friends elitist.
But that’s not the worst of it. Advanced dancers are in the spotlight any time they go to a dance. Who are they talking to? Who are they dancing with? How are they dancing tonight? Oh look, they left early. How terrible. Oh look, he said no to Jane. What a shitty person.
You know you’ve done it. You’ve watched the advanced dancers to evaluate their every move. You’ve shit talked their dancing, or their awkward behavior. You’ve cried and cursed them out silently when they didn’t pick you for finals.
Unfortunately, in my narcissism I was almost completely unaware that advanced dancers hadn’t magically gained immunity from criticism. Shit talking hurts real human beings, and it makes you look very self-centered.
Not every new dancer does these things, but I’ve sure been an ass.
Advanced Dancer Myth #5: They are better than you.
They are NOT better than you. I am not better than you. I like certain people, don’t like other people, and haven’t gotten to know most of you.
I don’t want to be on your pedestal. It’s not safe up there.
Being on a pedestal means I have so much farther to fall when you get to know me and find out I am actually awkward, boring, weird… or normal. (I also don’t speak as well as I write. Sorry!)
When I’m up on your pedestal, remember I didn’t choose to climb up here. When you’re busy calling advanced dancers elitist and cliquey, remember that most of them are trying to be normal, average humans who sometimes step into the role of super-awesome dancer.
And seriously guys. If you believe all the advanced dancers are elitist and cliquey, then why do you give a damn about them? Because they’re elitist and cliquey… and AWESOME?? Oh I see. You want to be a part of this awesome elitist clique, but you’re somehow going to avoid being elitist and cliquey. Mm-hmm. Perhaps you need to reexamine some of your assumptions.
Advanced Dancer Myth #6: Being advanced is waaaay better than being a newbie.
I still worry about making mistakes. I self-criticize. I worry what people think. I do a lot less of those, which is admittedly great.
But I miss the euphoria of being a newbie: When everything was amazing to me, and I could dance 3 hours straight on sheer adrenaline. I don’t have that anymore.
I also miss being a nobody, when no one had any expectations of how I should or shouldn’t act. I had no idea how awesome it was to be at a dance without noticing people watching me. I missed out on enjoying that, wanting to “get good” as quickly as possible, because I thought it was infinitely better than being new.
It feels amazing to be good at something that took me so long to figure out. I wouldn’t go back. But to quote this Quora answer on being rich:
“It’s not nearly as good as you imagine it is.”
As I slowly evolved from newbie to advanced, I exchanged one set of problems for a different set.
But I still cry, I still bleed, I still struggle, and I am still afraid. Remember that the next time you feel intimidated. And remember if you keep at it, you’ll be here too one day.
What do you think being an advanced dancer is like? If you’re advanced, what is it actually like?
Photo credits: ilovebutter (lindy goggles), pleated-jeans.com (introvert vs. extrovert), Meg Wills (woman on bed)
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I think that this is a phenomenon that occurs in all skill or achievement-based activities, not just dance. The concept of a “hedonic treadmill” is useful here (http://www.investopedia.com/terms/h/hedonic-treadmill.asp). As our skills and expertise rises, so do our expectations, resulting in no guaranteed increase in happiness or enjoyment.
Personally, I get around this by teaching and interacting with brand new dancers, and looking back at old pictures/videos to remind me of where I started and where I’ve come from. It takes mental effort, but in this way I’m able to be happy with where I am…some of the times. Other times I’m like, “Oh my god, why am I not a better dancer after all these years?!”
I’m glad you’re pointing out the realities of being an “advanced dancer,” as it definitely is something that new dancers tend to idealize. That being said, I do think that there is a distinct line in enjoyment that I experienced between when I had to be “consciously competent” (expending mental energy to think about EVERY SINGLE STEP in every social dance I had) to “unconsciously competent.” Personally, I found that dancing was concretely more enjoyable when things started clicking in my following and I was able to go with the flow rather than think about every step.
Cheryl! You’re totally the type of person I thought I’d be like when I got good at dancing!!
Also yes I agree: The main awesome thing about being good at dancing is that it’s really fun. Most of the time. Except on nights when you suck, which is sometimes often. Because as you said, you have higher expectations of yourself at that level (hedonic treadmill). “Getting the triple step right” is not nearly as exciting when you’ve done it 5,000 times!
Aww, you are too kind. And yes, haha, we don’t take time to consider how awesome “getting the triple step” is after the 5,000th time, which opens our minds up to focusing on more abstract or “advanced” concepts…the trade-off, though, is that we have less concrete signs of achievement.
Somewhat on a side note, I think this is one of the reasons that raising children will be so fascinating…seeing someone go through all the stages of development makes you appreciate all that you have learned in your life!
As an “advancing dancer” that has lost the ability to hug Cheryl for three minutes at a time because of life changes (geographical changes), all I can do is commiserate internally. Some of you know what you gained back, but for the masses, you have no idea the gain Seattle has recently made.
Unconsciously incompetent -> don’t know what you don’t know
Consciously competent -> know what you don’t know (this is where most falter at any skill development)
Consciously competent -> know what you know (still thinking about everything)
Unconsciously competent -> don’t know what you know (the most fun)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Four_stages_of_competence
Thanks for reminding me of these stages, Cheryl! Never applied them to dancing, but perhaps I should, especially the complacency bit!
Being an advanced dancer can also mean not dancing a lot – either because you are organizing or DJing or because people are too intimidated to ask you to dance. A normal Thursday night dance for me is only dancing with people I’ve asked to dance because no one is asking me (because I’m intimidating or look too busy to dance). It doesn’t bother me or even occur to me unless I’ve spent the dance being chatty and then it’s 11:00 p.m. and I’m thinking, “Why did I not dance tonight?”
Myth #7: “They have the energy to dance all night just like I do.” Some dancers do, some don’t.
Personally, I LOVE watching the energy and excitement of new dancers. I like to live it vicariously, all over again. :-)
Oh what a myth that #7,
I’m even too tired to be envious of the energy. I let the dancing monkeys dance and entertain me. And remind me of a time when I was a newbie…
Honestly, this is what happens to me almost every time, these days. I organize and do photography at our weekly dances, DJ often, teach occasionally (although I try to avoid that–not my cup of tea), and still try to at least talk to my friends. It does get frustrating because I spend most of a dance helping to make it awesome for everyone else, which I love doing, but then I don’t even really get to dance. People only ask me to dance now if I’m not doing any work at the dance, which almost never happens. It’s hard, because to a certain extent, it takes a more advanced dancer to really understand the minutiae of a dance to effectively run it, but it takes away from personal time spent dancing. Which can be sad. It’s interesting to note that I feel like my quality of dancing has gone down since I started organizing, due the decreased time to dance and/or practice, when everyone around me expects that it would go up because I’m around the dances so much. There’s a bit of a disconnect in perception there.
I just have a lot of thoughts on this topic.
I feel ya. I thought I’d never make any mistakes after I was “advanced.” Ha. Ha. Ha.
Ha. Ha. Been there. If anything I notice my mistakes more as an “advanced” dancer, ’cause I know what I should be doing even if I’m not doing it!
Yup. And then you’re like, “Why can’t I do that? I was just doing it yesterday. What the heck is wrong with me? I’ve haven’t made this mistake in years, and now I can’t stop doing it!”
Couldn’t agree more with this article. My girlfriend and I would be considered advanced dancers in our relatively small developing scene and its taken me a lot of time to ditch the problems that I had created in my mind that went together with being ‘advanced’ (even though we’re really not all that advanced internationally). your article is great because now I realise that other people have the same problems that you have outlined above!! My girlfriend still goes through nearly all of these, but id say she’ll benefit from reading this :)
Saying that however, I would not change the process we’ve went through or the process we are still going through because it’s made us stronger people, as well as more confident dancers. Also, being so uncomfortable with these things has made us push the scene forward. So while its heartwarming to know we aren’t the only ones to have experienced this, I actually think all these myths and the problems they may create are good things, because they encouraged us to grow in every regards.
Finally thank you for the article and the insights.i read them regularly and get A LOT from them :) Keep up the good work!
I’m slowly getting to the point where I can think of myself as an advanced dancer, at least locally (still not completely there), but from where I sit, I’d have to disagree with your number 6. Maybe it’s just me as an excessively self-conscious introvert, or maybe it’s just being a leader, but being more advanced feels a heck of a lot better than being a newbie because I’m spending much more time just enjoying the dancing rather than stressing about trying to think of oh-crap-what-do-I-do-now or oh-crap-can-I-lead-that-thing-I-just-learned and oh-no-she-looks-really-bored. (not to mention the fear of getting turned down for a dance. I have a little more confidence now.) I still struggle and am often still afraid, but it sure is a lot easier than it used to be.
Also, I realize that you’re trying to make a point here, but the first half of that Quora answer is probably more relevant: “being rich is better than not being rich.”
That being said, I think this post overall is great; this kind of insight that you’ve given on many of your posts has been really helpful.
So for you, becoming advanced hasn’t opened up new, unexpected problems? Interesting. I envy you!
Maybe I’m just not advanced enough yet. ;)
As usual, I agree with everything you say :) One time a dancer who thought he was a worse dancer than me scolded me for not smiling while I danced with him. Accused me of being snobby. It made me cry and I had to leave the dance early. THAT’s what it’s like being an “advanced dancer.”
That’s so sad. I think the last time I cried was out of sheer frustration with myself. Not being able to get something I’d been working on for months… It’s just so disheartening. But they say it’s darkest just before dawn… My, how true that is!
This is really interesting because the more I progress in my dancing, the more my perspective of what “advanced” is changes. As I learn more and travel more I am exposed to and challenged by really great dancers. There is always something else to learn! I was recently at a dance where someone I consider very advanced implied that I was one of the “more advanced” followers, and I was mind-boggled, because I just don’t consider myself there yet.
I think it’s good for those of us working hard to be advanced to keep a healthy balance of confidence and humility, particularly with regards to local scenes…we recognize the accomplishments we’ve had in our dance journey and are eager to share them with our dance community, but we also don’t give off the big-fish-in-a-small pond attitude (Myth #1 & Myth #5).
I’m wondering about the definition of “advanced.” I feel like we know it when we see it, but am not sure how to explain it. How do we self-define as “advanced” dancers? and is this different than how others categorize people?
I think becoming an advanced dancer is a lot easier on an extroverted lead who revels in the attention. I am one of those people who arrives early, closes out the venue, then throws an after party at my place after only sitting out a few dances during the night. I am thankful for the humility I gained as I emerged from the intermediate level. My extroverted nature was with me when I started and has not changed over the years of dancing.
The main thing I like to assure beginners is that it is not hard to become friends with the regulars and advanced dancers. You just need to prove to us that you are not one of the hundreds of transient beginners who pass through the dance hall never to return. Volunteering, showing up at the more obscure events, and being a supportive community member goes really far. Oh and be nice to everyone advanced thru beginner level.
“You just need to prove to us that you are not one of the hundreds of transient beginners who pass through the dance hall never to return. ”
Why? Is it not worth being nice to someone until they’ve proven themselves? As someone who tried lindy hop once and gave up on it, one of the reasons I stopped going was exactly that- there was such a huge barrier to entry into the social scene. Sure, it would have been nice to be asked to dance more, but mostly I just thought people would be willing to chat and be friendly to a new face. It can be scary going somewhere where almost everyone knows each other and you know no one. So a) transient beginners have feelings too and b) maybe they wouldn’t be so transient if they weren’t so intimidated not by advanced dancers but just by the social scene in general.
Being nice and becoming friends are not the same thing. I don’t know about the scene where you danced, but we literally have hundreds of new people come and go every month – 30-50 of the people at each dance have never been to a dance before. I spend the first hour and a half dancing with all the beginners – half the dance, and I’m basically trying to make the people that I dance with smile and have fun so that they will come back.
I make friends after someone has been going for a month or three, however.
Three things about that:
1) I am an introvert. Making friends is painful. It takes significant effort. Its a barrier that I have to push through. Even chatting takes my mental energy. If you require me to chat with everyone for as long as I am there, I will go home.
2) Its very demoralizing to do that hundreds of times a month only to have those friends abandon me less than three months later because they aren’t really interested in my hobby. I tried that.
3) Of the leads in my scene who are at or above my level, three stand out as extroverts. The other 8 or so of us are introverts. Are you going to put the onus on acting like you want on those three guys, and assume that will make the scene the way that you want it to be?
Same for me as a follow. I can be nice all night, but really making the effort for someone I’ve never met before and may never meet again is just so exhausting. Especially when it happens so frequently. Some years ago I stopped trying to actually become friends with newbies until I noticed they’d been out a few times, and then stepped it up beyond casual politeness.
For the record, I am an introvert as well. I love dancing and seeing my dance friends and the whole kit and caboodle, but it does get really exhausting going out and talking to people. I think this is why I don’t go out as much as I used to.
No. I don’t assume that the three extraverts will make the scene how I want it to be, nor do I assume the introverts will. When you’re really unfriendly, I am just not going to keep coming back. (and I say this as someone who has dropped in and out of my local scene a few times over the past few years… basically because I like dancing but don’t enjoy how judge-y my local scene is.)
I hear what you are saying KJ and I am sorry you gave up after one try. You need to understand that there are literally hundreds of beginners a month who come to our dances once or twice and never return. The regulars need to choose their battles. What I was trying to say is that if you give dancing a real shot you will quickly find the friendly community. Everyone who is in the community made it through the wilderness and you can too!
One thing I do in my scene to try and break down the social barrier is get on the mic and invite everyone who is still around at the end of the night over to my place to chat, drink smoothies or tea, listen to music, watch dance videos, and generally palaver. This is where I do most of my chatting and getting to know beginners / other leads / the regulars. In other scenes they go to late night dinners, dim sum, or coffee shops. Lots of folks don’t stick around till the end of the night so they don’t get the invitation but it happens in many places so keep your ears peeled or ask. If it is not happening where you are it is really not hard to get started.
I’m on board 98%.
I enjoy dancing just as much as I ever did, but the relationship has changed. It is no longer the simple rush of infatuation, but the appreciation of something complex that has grown and been nurtured over the last quarter century.
Loved the article Rebecca! Thank you!
I would like to add to it if I may, and maybe this is something you’ve already covered and I just haven’t read it yet. But I’ve also found that as an advanced leader I often get criticized for never dancing with newbies, because I am always dancing with other advanced follows. This, or I am criticized for never asking people to dance. It’s hard to go out of the way to ask people to dance when there is always someone asking me. Now, I know someone is going to read this and think “oh boo hoo, someone is a great dancer and everyone wants to dance with him! la di dah!”
Well, it feels great to be in high demand. Really great. really really great.
But it also means I don’t get time to catch my breath…but mostly it means that every time someone asks me, I feel the pressure that they are expecting to have a really great dance. Maybe I put this pressure on myself, but either way, it’s not entirely pleasant. So if I am tired, and someone asks me to dance, and I don’t have the heart to say no, they are probably not going to dance with me at my best, and it’s not because I’m not trying to enjoy the dance with them, it’s because I am tired…
This turned out a lot more long winded than it was in my head. I guess that’s why you’re the blogger and I’m the commenter. ;)
You can have the pedestal. Me – advanced? Probably not, but advancing. The most enjoyable times of my dancing career were somewhere in between newbie and inter-mediocre, when everyone in room still knew of you, no one was intimidated to ask you to dance and likewise you were not intimidated to ask anyone either (except of course teacher). Somehow, I let myself fall to the idea that the only way to “get better” is to dance with better dancers. Constantly challenge yourself. Forging upward. Well, as years went by, the social circle tightened, attrition, birthing, moving, life-got-in-the-way, divorce, whatever. Add to it, getting involved in the organizational end of the venue which meant politics, opinions, almost religion. Now, I have a circle of about 20 of us that dance together, workshop together, travel together, eat together, you name it >> and most of it escapes that ‘fresh feeling’. Sure, the dancing is great, but the energy generated by a constant influx of fresh socialization has tanked. It is harder to get that higher high. Articles like yours Rebecca, make me sit-up and wonder, maybe I should start taking the beginners track all over again in an attempt to recapture that feeling. Not with the ambition of necessarily learning how to dance again, but exercising how not to be such the self-inflicted curmudgeon I’ve become. I need to call a spade a spade. Dance is merely the vehicle I chose to gain exercise and socialization in the first place, and somewhere along the way, I learned how to dance well enough to get by. Now my problem is how to avoid letting that take over.
I loved your essay and I have enjoyed the comments. I am an advanced dancer advancing in age and female. I enjoy latin dance, ballet, African dance and Afro caribbean dance. I am about to turn 60. Recently, I was just leaving an African dance workshop and a woman, perhaps a decade younger, said to me, “You are a lovely dancer. Have you studied a lot?”. I was pleased to hear I was still “lovely”. For a while, I was bringing in teachers and running workshops myself in order to have the opportunity to dance but then I was only meeting beginners.
As an older dancer trying to get comfortable with a local salsa social scene (and I know how to salsa dance), I find I am only comfortable asking men who are beginning dancers and who rarely get asked to dance and are shy to ask. The younger women are so flashy and sexy and “lovely” doesn’t seem to cut it. So……for me it seems that an older dancer can “advance” out of advanced dancing. I attend workshops with this salsa group and am beginning to make friends with the other “regulars” who are excellent dancers, by just showing up. I would love to have some dance friends at my level who would enjoy dancing with me. So..the challenge isn’t technique….it is the challenge of breaking into a new social scene.
Thanks for your thoughts on “advanced dancers”
Since it seems the links of Facebook have brought me here, and I have now spent a little time looking around your blog, Rebecca, I thought that I might take a minute to (respectfully) play an honest devil’s advocate for a moment.
While I think that most of the things you say in this article are basically true in the sense that the worst things anxious people imagine others are thinking about them are often untrue, I just wanted to reframe a few things in hopes that it might offer some new questions to think about. After looking through several of your articles it seems very often the subject matter has to do with social survival in “the dance world” . . . which I presume to mean something like “among lindy hop enthusiasts,” or maybe “among traveling, competing, lindy hop enthusiasts.” While you are 100% right that people in all sorts of positions of privilege have feelings too, and they feel all of the same nonsense that everyone else feels to some extent–they get tired, they sometimes doubt themselves, they have social needs as well– I’m not sure that the focus on all of the subtleties of social dynamics and hierarchies really manages to get that point across. Perhaps it seems counter-intuitive, but in some ways, as I looked at the focus of your blog and how much it centers on, and sometimes privileges discussion of these social anxieties, I wonder if the way you have framed the “dance scene” as a potential social-ordeal doesn’t in some ways help to make that a self-fulfilling prophecy for some readers. This is not to say that I don’t think your reassurances come from a genuine desire to comfort and make others confident, because that much is apparent, but media (including this blog) is not just a reflection of culture and what it’s doing: media also creates and alters perception of culture. There is a part of me which wonders if identifying “the dance scene” so primarily with social suspicion, discomfort and hierarchy helps to ensure that those things remain true, or perhaps they are even reinforced.
Fundamental to your question is the notion of how important social status/approval is to our enjoyment of anything, and that varies from person to person. For some, any hobby or occasion in which they are not reinforcing their social prominence or respectability is a waste of time, for others it’s just the opposite– they cannot really let loose or enjoy themselves until all prospects of social judgement are dispensed with. Most of us lie somewhere in the middle. To some extent the question really is about what you want the focus of your (our) attention and effort to be: having everyone like us and think we’re impressive, or actually relishing the time we’re having, finding something about the act of dancing/music itself that propels us to new ambition or new heights. I routinely choose the latter, and sometimes wish people spent more energy talking about things in that spirit. . . about the things that make us crap ourselves with awe, what we want or even need to master, what we can’t put away because it is too interesting, too puzzling, too much of a good time. Brecht said something like “talent is interest” . . . I am inclined to agree ;)
Right on, Kelly Porter.
Ha ha! Great comment K. Porter! When I started dancing it was because I was really excited to learn this dance. I still get excited every time that music starts up and someone says they will dance with me. I don’t have time for social hierarchy, there is too much dancing to be done.
The only real difference I’ve noticed from when I was a novice WCS dancer and now is that as a novice I was so focused on technique and ‘getting it right’ that a lot of times I’d miss out on the artistic or emotional aspect of dancing. Now, when I step off of the floor I feel like I’ve created something unique and awesome. I’m still the same person, just a better dancer. No different really from anyone else of any level.
I have been dancing for 7 years. I would in no way qualify myself as an advanced dancer, but I have been dancing long enough that I am now somewhat smooth on occasion, don’t trip over my feet ( every time I go out dancing) and less frequently run into and or step on my partners feet. Sometimes cute little starry eyed newbies think I’m an amazing dancer. I inform them that I still feel self-conscious almost every time I dance. I have bad dances where I somehow just can’t manage to follow even basic leads and there are still nights where I do step on peoples feet multiple times. My favorite is when I make a complete doofus of myself by doing something (like a turn) that wasn’t even slightly lead. Yay me!! Being “advanced” doesn’t mean you’re awesome, it means that you’ve been dancing long enough to look like you know what you’re doing….most of the time. Plus another huge difference is how much fun you have. The more I mess up the more I can’t help but laugh at myself and when you look like you’re having fun people suddenly think you’ve become Ginger Roberts.
I really LOVE to dance with follows that are way better than me and do it as often as possible. There is so much that I learn in every dance with them that a normal lesson can`t show me and a good follow lets every leader shine.
Also I found the advanced dancers in our area to be very nice persons that are always willing to help newbies whenever we have a question. And usually they don`t turn you down when they get asked to dance with a beginner. Lucky us:-)
Hahaha yes. I think I’m less “advanced” than I am “always around.” The worst is going out dancing when I’m already tired. I accidentally stop following. Then I laugh at myself and accidentally stop dancing.
Then I think, “I’ve been doing this almost 8 years and I still can’t dance when I’m tired?”
Totally empathize with basically your entire comment.
Awwww…..Thats beautiful!
Thanks for the article!
I consider myself an intermediate Lindy Hopper and I can kinda see both sides of the coin.
Regards
I simply think that we’re good at what we do often.
Hi there, I’m Josephine and I am an advanced dancer to some and to others not so much. When I dance with the people I drool over I feel like I cannot even do a swing out.
I also teach, I teach a lot, a lot of students and a lot of different styles. To my students I am the definition of advanced. Which I find funny. I had one experience at a workshop where I confessed to a few of my ‘kids’ that I was scared of said dancer, they were shocked. They couldn’t imagine me being scared to dance with anyone I had taught them to dance from scratch!
Another funny ‘advanced dancer’ moment, one of my students said that he was sad that he would never be as good as me ( both getting better and therefore never meeting) because I could never just dance with him. I would always be looking for something to fix. Because that’s what I do often when I dance with my students I note what could make them better. Its true, I do, but I shouldn’t always and I make it a point now not to. I may be your teacher, but I am not always your teacher. Out on the dance floor I’m just another follow.
So that’s my soap box! :) Great article for every rung and shade of dancer!
There’s no room for partner dancing on a pedestal.
:)
Fact.
I would be really shocked if people think about “advanced” dancers as much as this blog post presumes.
And hopefully they’ll think about advanced dancers even less after reading this!
Less than barely at all? That’s already the case.
But advanced dancers clearly believe everyone is thinking about them all the time. Just look at how many here claim to be advanced dancers suffering under the weight of some pressure that exists only in their mind…right alongside the notion that they are advanced dancers.
El Guapo, I know you’re trying to make a dig at narcissism that “advanced dancers” are showing here, but you can’t deny that people on the sidelines, when not talking, are watching the floor, and usually watching the better dancers. I was a beginner not too long ago, and a lot of us were shy, not dancing too many songs. A lot of this wallflower time was spent eying the good people, and we’d talk about which ones we really wanted to dance with, what their crazy outfits were, who we wanted to shag, etc. Not PC, but true. Now that I’m more of an intermediate dancer, I’m no longer starstruck, but I still watch advanced dancers a lot, but more for trying to pick up style and technique tips. I don’t really give a rat’s arse about the soap opera that tends to permeate the lindy regulars, but I do watch them dance, and I think most dancers do, too.
Rebecca,
Fantastic insight.
Sonny Watson put it in a nutshell long ago. I could only paraphrase, badly, so I won’t waste our time here by trying. But he was right.
I am an advanced dancer and teacher in many styles and genres. I was so flattered when I first started receiving those assessments from others. I was so happy to work with certain instructors and found some (a very few) vain and uninspired.
I’ve been around for decades now and have a sad perspective to report…
1) Dancers today are not learning Ballroom/dance floor etiquette. Consideration of others has disappeared through complete ignorance. Teachers aren’t injecting in their lessons. Teaching is a different skill. Too many dancers-who-teach never learned how to *teach*. Demonstrating steps and tricks is NOT teaching.
2) Sadder still is the abject dismissal of ‘older’ dancers. Sure … if you saw Frankie Manning, Dawn Hampton or Jeannie Veloz you might work up the nerve to ask for a dance but a middle-aged person? NEVER!
It’s three minutes that just might be a revelation to a younger dancer. The very worst it could be is a three minute act of kindness.
Please impress your fans to consider the feelings of others. Don’t make an excuse when an ‘older’ woman asks for a dance and do some asking yourself! I danced with older people when I was young. I learned mountains from them. (The slime-bags get found out quickly) As a middle-aged woman I discover an overwhelming sadness having become a wallflower because of agism. I have never felt such complete loneliness before. Girls can learn a lot from older dancers. It can be fun and enlightening to talk with them.
I’m glad I found you.
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