Taking That First Step
My brother once summed up my coordination thus: “Nan, you could break your arm rolling up the car window.” This, coupled with a tendency to hear white noise whenever instructions are given, has led to a lifelong belief that if a dance involves following, I better sit down. And yet watching people swing dance is akin to catching a virus and the only known cure is to take a class, which I did one recent Saturday night at the Derby.
“Remember, some of the nicest people in the world have no rhythm,” says Francisco, reassuring the participants at the beginners class. There are 50 of us, most trying to hide behind someone else. No go. “Gentlemen, form a clump in the center,” Francisco says. “Ladies, join hands and circle around them.”
Once in position, we get our marching orders, literally. “Just march in place, window foot first,” Francisco says. Good, no remembering right and left, I think, lifting one foot, then the other. “OK, now rock back on the ball of your right foot--that’s the part below your toes.... Great, you’ve got the basics. OK, gentlemen, find a partner.”
The guys fan out and pick girls. Several, including yours truly, are not picked; Francisco softens the blow by calling us “bonus girls,” and promises we’ll get guys next time. Couples hold hands, bonus girls hold air and we all execute turns for about a minute. “OK, rotate and introduce yourself to your new partner,” instructs Francisco.
A short stocky man introduces himself as Armand and asks if this is my first time. How could he tell? And yet despite what I’m sure is dance-induced rigor mortis, Armand has a sure touch, tilting my wrist just so to let me know it’s time to turn ... now. Though it defies history and logic, I’m actually in-step.
We continue to rotate partners: Ed’s eyes have a hysterical cast as he spins us into other couples; Jeremy has tight, precise moves that make the dance feel sexy and right; Chris windmills his arms and clocks me in the head; John is tall and strong and easy to follow. By the end of the hour, I have danced with 12 guys, learned three turns and have the basics down.
Before the class is over, Francisco gives us a few rules of the road. “Gentlemen, always lead a lady onto the floor, and lead her back off afterward. And get over being afraid to ask a lady to dance. Ladies, it’s all right to say no to a dance, but you can’t say yes to someone else. And remember to smile and have fun.”
He cues up some music and leaves us to our own devices. I am off to one side, paranoid about being the eternal bonus girl, when Armand asks for my hand. He leads me onto the floor and spins me three times this way, four times that, has me spin him when I didn’t even know I could, all while anchored by window foot, other foot, rock step.
When people say, “If I can do it, anyone can,” they are usually being kind or dismissive, but I say it in earnest. Just ask my brother.
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Nancy Rommelmann