She Braced, Channeled, and Danced

She was at a party. In fact, it was her tenth birthday party. Her aunts, uncles, cousins, and older siblings came out to New Jersey from New York, and her friends from all over the 22-acre apartment complex joined in for the fun. The adults were enjoying the music, conversation, and food, while the neighborhood boys stirred up trouble and the girls giggled and gossiped – when they weren’t joining in whatever mayhem the boys were getting into. She felt a sense of giddy blissfulness the entire time, until she heard the dreaded words from one of her friends. “Let’s have a dance contest!” Why? Just, why? Weren’t they having enough fun already? The audacity of Kira to suggest a dance contest at Janelle’s birthday party. Janelle quickly devised a plan to thwart the dance contest. Just as excitement for the neighborhood dance contest was building, she shouted, “Hey! How about we have a spelling bee instead?” Yes – a spelling bee would work. See, Janelle could spell. As a straight-A student, Janelle could compete academically across any subject, really. But if there was one thing she could not do, it was dance. Her inability to dance was not from lack of effort. Seeing her struggle, friends and family would give the unhelpful advice to, “feel the beat.” Processing that piece of advice is what most would feel like if being asked to interpret hieroglyphics (barring Egyptologists). Janelle looked around to gauge how others were taking to her brilliant diversion, confident that there would be no need for her to embarrass herself on her own birthday. The party chatter stopped, and the children and adults alike exchanged incredulous and confused glances at each other. In those glances, they came to an unspoken agreement that they would ignore the birthday girl’s inane suggestion and carry on with the dance contest. At this defeat, she drew in a deep breath. She braced herself; she channeled the strength; and she danced.

She was at a party. It was her best friend’s Sweet 16. Nay – Alicia was more than a best friend; she was a sister. There wasn’t anything Janelle wouldn’t do for Alicia and vice versa. That fact was proven time and time again throughout their many years of friendship. After hours and days of practicing for the big opening dance at Alicia’s Sweet 16, Janelle was determined not to mess up the routine. She was determined not to look stiff or awkward. And she was determined to keep the beat. As her palms started sweating, her dance partner gave her a gentle reassuring squeeze as if he read the nervous thoughts running through her mind. “It ain’t for everyone. Welcome to Hollywood baby,” blared from the speakers, cueing the start of Jay-Z and Beyonce’s Hollywood song and the start of the opening routine. Nervous, but confident that she knew each step, she and her partner, along with the other members of the Sweet 16 court stepped out to perform the opening dance number. As she walked onto the dance floor she drew in a deep breath and put on her best stage smile. She braced herself; she channeled the strength; and she danced.

She was at a party. It was a Hafla - the Arabic word to describe a party or celebration. It is also used to describe gatherings where belly dancers perform formal staged shows. Why was she at a Hafla? Well, she was President of her college’s Middle Eastern belly dance performance troupe. Hosting haflas helped them raise funds for their annual show. As President, Janelle was on high alert making sure everything was running smoothly. “Relax Janelle. The night is perfect,” said one of her fellow dancers as she handed Janelle a drink. She saw some dancers enjoying hookah with guests in one corner, drinks and cheap beer flowing from the makeshift “bar”, and some of the girls teaching basic belly dance moves in another corner of the room. Everything was fine and all the guests seemed to be enjoying themselves, but her stomach was still in knots. It was almost her turn to perform her hafla routine. As President of the troupe, with a dance style defined by drama and attitude with big puffy curls that added even more spice to each move, Janelle was a fan favorite. Upon realizing that she was about to perform, everybody started gathering and belting out their best zhagareets – a loud trilling that sounds like a rapid paced, high pitched “loo loo loo loo.” These noises are made in celebratory Middle Eastern social settings to show excitement, anticipation, and appreciation. The usual stage nerves started buzzing, but these nerves were different from the ones at her tenth birthday party and Alicia’s Sweet 16. These were not nerves of self-doubt, but nerves of excitement, anticipation, and appreciation. See, by now she loved dancing, often practicing 15-plus hours a week, while maintaining a full course load and work study job. She now looks back at those days wondering how she did it. But she knows, it wasn’t really a choice. She didn’t just feel the beat. She was the beat. She came alive to the beat and the beat was brought to life by her. The zhagareets got louder and louder, just as loud as the music itself. It was okay, though. She didn’t need to hear the music; she felt the music. And without missing a beat, she braced; she channeled the strength; and she danced.

She was at a party. And it was just what she needed after the day at work she had. She caught an error in her survey data and had to redo her entire research findings presentation at the eleventh hour. It was a party of one in her living room, with no decorations or guests. There was no food or alcohol or any other festivities. She did manage to establish excellent mood lighting with the help of two calming agave vanilla scented candles and a salt rock lamp. She pressed play and let the beat overcome her. As the bass entered her veins, the stress of the day slowly started to leave. She closed her eyes and submitted herself to wherever the rhythm took her. And it took her. Her arms snaked with delicate controlled tension, as her hips rounded in an infinity-symbol motion. She played with levels and bends, turns and shakes. She was overcome by burning serenity – a high that could only be achieved through dance. As one song turned to two, and two songs turned to three, she danced, she danced, and she danced.