Every week now I get a dose of embarrassment built right into Thursday. I am in the practice of attending a hip-hop dance class with some girls from school. It lets them know I’m an adult who is dependable and trustworthy. And WHITE.
They all make fun of the way white girls dance. It's how they insult each other and themselves. "I'm/You dancing like a white girl." I hate to perpetuate this stereotype, but I have yet to see them disproved. They say we’re stiff and that we touch our arms too much (which is SO true. Damn. That is so true).
The instructor, an amazing and beautiful dancer moves her body in ways that my joints will not allow. She drills us with pop pah wooh breathy sounds as subsitutes for real words. I translate them to mean "this is obviously too hard for you. If you concede now, I won't tell the others that you're a big loser. Just pretend like you're going for water and leave. Leave. Shhh, baby, just get out of the class. You're holding us up."
I go home to my parents who really want to see some of my "moves". I put "moves" in quotation marks because even the word is humiliating. I make excuses because I know that without the proper music, it would be impossible.
No comments:
Post a Comment