Today marks one month from the end of Lindyfest.
I began dancing Lindy Hop at the beginning of last month and went to the 17th annual Lindyfest/Lonestar Championships. There, I participated in the beginner workshop with Patrick and Natasha.
Then, I got to see experienced dancers compete and dance and do aerials and do blues and charleston and balboa and the big apple and….
I guess you could say I had a good time.
Anyways, I have developed exponentially as a dancer in ways that I never expected to in only a month. I made Prepcats (a performance group that performs along side the more experienced Hepcats). I learned basic eight count Lindy Hop patterns and some variations. I learned how to mix up six count patterns and how to give a strong rock on the downbeat. I learned some Charleston and fast Lindy patterns. Heck, I learned the Shim-Sham. It’s strange that I’ve only been regularly dancing for one month, which makes me think of how I felt the first week I tried Lindy.
Similarly, last week at our usual Sunday social dance at the Melody Club, dozens of newcomers to Lindy Hop crowded the dark brown dance floor. I watched as the instructors introduced the new students to what Lindy Hop was and the music associated with it. I looked around and saw other young adults my age, a few older individuals, and some working age couples who were clearly together.
After their lesson, all the more seasoned dancers (me included) came into the large, mirrored dance hall and joined the newbies in snowball dancing — random dancing with several different individuals for a single song.
I stood on the outside of the beginner circle for the first time and waited for the DJ to call “SNOWBALL” so I could join one of the new dancers.
Over the sound of gently swaying trumpets and drums, I heard the DJ yell the iconic words that, until last month, I had only associated with flying projectiles of ice.
My first dance partner during that Snowball song was a young blonde girl who looked like she was in high school, though her T-shirt indicated that she was a student of Texas A&M scheduled to graduate in 2015. As we danced, I sensed the hesitation in her step and the uncertain smile on her face every time I tried to lead even the simplest of patterns.
Don’t get me wrong, she was a delightful follow and was smiling and laughing the entire time. In fact, she followed every combination that I led wonderfully, despite the hesitation I felt in her body and the haste with which her eyes fell on her feet to double check her footwork.
Before I knew it, 20 seconds had passed. The DJ yelled “snowball.” I thanked the girl for the dance and let her go to her next partner.
I don’t remember who else I danced with that song, but that night, I thought about how I felt when I started dancing with other people.
The one thing I remember the most when I started dancing socially was how intimidated I felt when I saw follows dancing with experienced leads.
In fact, for the first two weeks of dancing, I didn’t ask a single girl outside of my beginner class to dance. Of course, when the experienced dancers came up to me, I said yes, but the contact was never initiated by me.
Lately, I’ve been feeling the same thing when it comes to dancing with other members of the Prepcats/Hepcats, but it is something I am looking to overcome.
With this in mind, let’s add two things to my to do list.
1. Ask people to dance, even if they intimidate me.
2. Ask people to dance, even if I think I intimidate them.
The Lindy Hop Diaries 