I Took a Dance Class Today
dancing and peeling onions — can be the same thing!
I took a dance class today and not only did I burn 1700 calories as per my fitbit — I don’t believe it (my fitbit often lies) — I learned several things that I didn’t expect to in a dance class.
At 8:00 AM we (the eager students) stood behind the teacher facing a mirror. We took a couple of deep breaths in and then a couple of deep breaths out. Now the lesson began.
At first I looked at my teacher’s feet in the mirror to try and follow what she was doing. Right foot forward, left foot back, two steps to the right, then two to the left. I was overwhelmed by all the things I had to do. If I let my mind take a moment to enjoy the song that was playing, or wanted to sing along with it, my feet had no idea what to do. All was forgotten. If I took a second to admire how effortlessly the teacher was moving, how she could count and show us steps, and compliment a student who mastered a complicated step — I realized the class was moving to the right as I was still standing to the left. This was just so much. It was so new. It was an information overload for my mind, and an entirely new experience for my body. It required my undivided attention.
It was fun though — I learned that I am not a very good dancer and the little dance that I have ever done in my life has come from within. If I like the music, I simply allow my feet and body to move the way that it wants to. Taking directions was too much.
As I chassed and did the New York (I had no idea there was a step named after my own city), I thought of the hundreds of cooking classes that I have taught over the years. Once I had a student who had never peeled an onion. Not being privy to that information, I asked her to peel one. She stared at the onion. I was attending to another student and after a few moments when I looked over to her, she was holding the onion, not knowing what to do. I went to her cutting board and said, “… first peel the onion and then I will show you how to cut it in a few different ways.” She continued to stare at it and said, “I don’t know what you mean — peel the onion.”
“Surely, you have cut an onion before,” I said.
“No, I haven’t.”
Hmmmm this person doesn’t know how to peel an onion. How can that even be?”
I proceeded to show her the two ends of the red onion. My voice was patient (I hope). “Here is the root end that holds the onion together and here is the other end.” I showed her how to hold the onion firmly from the middle and how to take a sharp knife and slice off the two ends. Now she could peel the papery skin off the onion and it was peeled. She followed my instructions nervously and tentatively, watching me as she steadied the onion — the expression on her face I couldn’t decipher exactly. She was fascinated, maybe a little embarrased and a tad excited that she could now use onions in her life. We continued to cut the onion in half — I then demonstrated how to dice and slice.
As I was struggling with my dance steps, trying to keep up with the teacher, I realized that she could be thinking the same thing. She could be thinking — this person can’t keep three simple steps in her mind. Something that she could do in her sleep, I was having trouble grasping. Just as I thought that I got one step down, she combined it with another … and I had no idea what was happening, no idea what to do next.
She was a wonderful teacher and not once did I see a look of impatience or irritation on her face in the mirror. When we took short breaks to get a drink of water, she kept saying that we are here to have fun and sweat, and that this was my first class. I agreed. I was there to have fun. I sure was sweating! The other students told me that they had been working on some of the steps since the beginning of the year and this was simply my first class.
I appreciated them saying this — I wasn’t particularly embarrassed. Middle age has some benefits. I had other things going on in my mind. I was admiring the demeanor of the teacher — she never made me feel ashamed for not catching on. I was thinking and hoping that I did the same for my students. And I was thinking that just because I had diced an onion a million and a half times doesn’t mean someone had even seen an onion up close.
We all are good at some things and not at others. If the teacher wasn’t so sweet and accommodating, I would never go back to take another class.
Even though it’s clear I am not a good dancer, I’m going to go again on Monday because I had so much fun and I think I became a better teacher too.
