Show My Age? No Way, Insist Dancing Seniors : Dancing: Teacher, 70, began the class on a whim, offering a three-month session for just $10. It quickly caught on and now they come regularly to her brightly lit studio. And all of her students are enthusiastic.

Every Friday, the Young at Heart dancers kick up their heels in a tiny studio here where the motivational message from their 70-year-old instructor is: Age is only a number.

The group is for dancers who are at least 55 and want to stay young by keeping fit. The oldest is 82, the youngest 63.

“When people come to me and ask ‘Are you still dancing?’ I say ‘Why not?’ ” said Ilsetraut Dinshah, a German-born dancer who began teaching the class several years ago. “Dancers are ageless.”

Dinshah, who began dancing when she was 15, also teaches younger students five days a week. But she looks forward to the hourlong class with her peers.

“It’s a real special group,” said Dinshah.

Dinshah began the senior dance class on a whim, offering a three-month session for just $10. It quickly caught on and about a dozen women now come regularly to the brightly lit studio in the basement of Dinshah’s home in this rural Gloucester County community.

“I thought it would only last for a few weeks,” said Dinshah, a former ballerina who has been teaching for 22 years. “But they kept coming.”

The dancers come from varied backgrounds and most have never danced seriously before now. They became local celebrities after they were featured on a television program. The group performs regularly for older people and disabled veterans groups.

“It’s a lot of fun,” said Daisy Buchanan, 70, a retired nurse who joined 18 months ago. “I really enjoy it.”

The dancers say the class has made a difference in their lives. Most were not physically active and wanted a way to get in shape.

“I wanted the exercise,” said Dot Renshaw, 67, who joined the group two years ago after back surgery. “Before I came here, if I bent down I couldn’t get up on my own.”

The class is open to men and women, but Dinshah’s husband, Cyrus, 70, is the only man who participates. He helps newcomers or partners his wife when the group does a polka dance.

“It doesn’t bother me,” said Cyrus Dinshah. “I’m comfortable.”

At the start of a recent class, Dinshah put a Scott Joplin album on an old phonograph as the dancers took their positions on the wooden floor in front of a mirrored wall.

The other walls are painted bright yellow.

After warm-up exercises, Dinshah, wearing low-heeled pink ballet shoes, guided the class through stretching routines to loosen their joints, especially the hips.

“When you can still stretch, you have it made,” said Dinshah. “It makes you feel young.”

Dinshah began dancing in her native Berlin where she performed with a troupe entertaining troops during World War II.

When she became too old to dance professionally, she took odd jobs as a waitress and a saleswoman.

In 1961, Dinshah moved to the United States after her marriage. She began dancing again when she opened a studio here in 1972.

“I said ‘Oh I can dance again,’ ” recalled Dinshah, her blue eyes sparkling. “This is my life.”

Dinshah keeps the mood light while instructing her senior students.

When their faces turn somber as they concentrate on the steps, she tells them to smile.

“This keeps me limber,” said 82-year-old Betty Rein, a retired seamstress.

“I don’t want to get arthritis like old people have.”

Comfortably dressed in loose-fitting clothing, the dancers perform routines that include line dancing. Some wear ballet shoes, others fuzzy bedroom slippers.

“She also tells us to look sexy,” yells Alice Fellenbaum, 63, a retired school teacher and the youngest in the group. “It’s our only chance.”

The group tries to keep up with their svelte instructor. The 5-foot, 132-pound Dinshah is barely winded as she moves through the routines.

“We don’t want you to overdo it,” cautioned Dinshah. “We just want you to see what possibilities you have with your bodies.”

Some occasionally miss a step, but perfection is not the goal.

“We make a lot of mistakes,” said Adeline Fiocchi, 74. “But it’s fun anyway.”