Let’s Get Wriggly
By Emmaly Wiederholt
When did people become afraid to get up and wriggle in front of each other? My mom posed this question to the family after we attended the Shroyer Community Center 4th Annual Rock n’ Roll Party near Chama, NM. With dinner buffet followed by 50’s dance tunes, my family was the main event on the dance floor. Unfortunately, my family only dominated the dance floor because most of the other attendees sat, watched, and tapped in tune, much to my mom’s chagrin. Sure, a handful of people got up and danced to a slow song or two, but by and large the DJ played on with five or six dancers at most.
In indigenous cultures, dance is a part of the social fabric. It’s as natural as listening to music. My mom plays in a jug band that performs old-timey favorites at local senior citizen centers around Albuquerque. I went with her recently and listened and watched. Yes watched, for all the old people were head bobbing and tapping to the music. It’s as if they couldn’t help it. Some of these people could barely walk, yet they intrinsically responded to music with movement. I’m convinced it’s paramount to some sort of primal urge. There’s no more natural pairing than dance and music.
I find one of the biggest failures of contemporary culture is that people feel inhibited to dance in front of each other. Sure you see people at weddings when they’re liquored up, or girls (females seem to feel this inhibition less) at school dances. But by and large people seem incredibly reticent to bust a move in front of each other. When did this happen? And why? And is it reversible?
Dance isn’t effeminate. It isn’t dainty. It’s robust and physical and a fun way to connect to music, each other, and our own bodies. And truly we do it all the time- we tap to the radio, bob our heads at concerts, etc. But as soon as it comes down to other people seeing us dance, and perhaps being perceived as bad at it, or laughable, or just plain silly, we sit by numbly while the air rages with rhythm and melody.
So please, next time you find yourself at a community event with music playing and the dance floor forlornly empty, grab a friend and unapologetically fill the space with movement. It doesn’t matter if you think you’re good. If you feel silly or embarrassed for a bit, is that really so bad? Let’s dance with each other. Let’s let music wash over us through movement. Let’s get wriggly.
Photo from the Laguna Vista/ Shroyer Community Center August 2012 newsletter