What is your dance for?

Coming out of PantheaCon this weekend, being on tour and performing for two weeks, and months of contemplation about the place of dance currently in my life (+ discussions with friends feeling in the same place), I feel like I've reached some clarity.  There's nothing quite like teaching movement to a wide variety of very different people who find something new in it - and in their discoveries, I find my own root.

Dance is a tool, a gateway, a journey, a method. Solely unto itself, it is a means to connect the body and mind.  It is a neutral element.  But how you use and apply it can lead to healing or hurting - of both body and mind.

You can build up self-esteem and confidence, repair and reclaim your body, find a new form of expression, and make new connections with others - and yourself.  It can empower you, invigorate you, challenge you, guide you to overcome obstacles, and help foster growth on a multitude of levels.

Or it can be used to build Ego, to hide insecurities and shortfallings, viewed as a means to an end versus as a continual process, and overworked to harm the body.  It can be used to exploit, to separate, and to exclude. In excess the body could exceed the mind, or vice versa causing real damage to both.

For years, I have challenged my students to consider why they dance before they perform it. If performing is a dialogue between you and the audience, it makes a difference if you know what you're going to say and why.  But even if you're not performing, I believe it's important to think about why you dance.

When it comes to dancing, I don't care how young or old you are, how large or small, which gender or sexuality you identify as, what your origins are, how long you've been studying the dance, what style you dance, or how well-known or "famous" you are or aren't.

I care that you come to the dance sincerely, foster it as best as you can, and support others.

I care that you are kind to yourself and to others, regardless of all of the separations, groupings, and labels.

I care that you don't put unrealistic limitations on yourself or others because of age, weight, shape, style, or gender.

I care that you want to learn, grow, and share - and I am honored to be part of such a journey with any dancer.

If you're in this dance solely for "fortune and fame," to build a following for your ego, to use and exploit others so you can feel powerful or pretty or pretend to be superior, I don't have the time, space or energy for you.  And I won't make the room for you anymore.

My dance connects my body and spirit, and in turn allows me to share that unity with others in a way that is different than how I express with my art or my words. It's that wordless experience that goes beyond style, technique, costuming, physical shapes, or branding. It's what drew me here in the first place, and it's the connecting with others - through both performance and instruction that makes dance important in my life.

Why do I dance? I dance because I'm interested and invested in the beautiful unknown that happens in the space between my own dance connection and yours - and the world of discovery within and beyond that space, manifested through culture, music, spirit, and understanding.

Blessings on your dance journey.

The Heart of Darkness

In the last few weeks, I have unfortunately witnessed several individuals making disparaging, bigoted, fear-mongering, and racist remarks about Arabs and Muslims*. While people displaying their ignorance and hate on social media isn't anything new (alas) - what really and truly upset me was that in their own photos and posts, showing them dripping in Afghani/Kuchi jewelry, Egyptian fringe, while laying on Berber and Persian textiles, these people claimed to also be bellydancers.  From a variety of styles. 

That pretty much broke my brain.  I don't see how you can claim to teach and/or perform this dance, decorate yourself and your living space in objects originating primarily from Arabic and Muslim cultures, and make money off of it, while totally trashing the people largely responsible for all of it.

Whether you're doing Turkish, Egyptian, ATS, Tribal Fusion, Vintage Oriental or Fusion, the roots are clearly there, and when you study and practice a dance, you are (or should be) acknowledging where that dance came from.  Even if you want to claim the fantasy that this dance was done thousands of years ago in temples to honor Isis, Ishtar, or Inanna (which it could have been, we have no way of knowing for sure either way) as a way of divorcing it from the modern culture, you're wearing costuming and jewelry, and decorating with objects made by people LIVING in that culture right now.  Who are not terrorists or extremists, and are just trying to get through life with as little hassle as possible.

Even if you claim that all of your stuff is made here (be it the Americas, or Europe, or anywhere NOT the Middle/Near/Far East), that doesn't take away the responsibility of cultural responsibility.** Here in the United States, we don't just study only American History - there are mandatory curriculum classes in World and European History. Why? Because it's important to know these things, how everything and everyone evolves, and how we are all interconnected globally. So the same is true for modern fusions of the dance - know the evolution, know the roots, respect them.

Which brings us to a very hot and relevant topic in bellydance right now - cultural appropriation, a phrase that often causes hackles to raise - and with good reason on all sides.

First, let's look at the definition of the word appropriate, which in this application means: "to take to or for oneself; take possession of, or to take without permission or consent; to seize; expropriate; to steal." Now, notice the difference in definition for the word appreciate - "to be grateful or thankful for; to value or regard highly; place a high estimate on; to be fully conscious of; be aware of; detect: to raise in value."

To appropriate is to disregard or disrespect the origin of something, while using it for your own gain.  To appreciate is to acknowledge and respect the origin, while raising positive awareness for it through your actions. 

I would rather be guilty of cultural appreciation than appropriation, wouldn't you?

There are those out there using the tagline of "cultural appropriation" not as a means to open up a dialogue (which should be the intent right?) but to draw attention to themselves, as in "I'm pointing out the wrong, praise me for showing how wrong these people are, I did a good thing, and you should totally vilify them."  That's about operating a personal agenda, not raising social awareness and sensitivity - and that sort of tactic tends to bruise more than it heals. It's frustrating, and it's the easy way out, because it is much more scary and difficult to open up a conversation with the Other.  We can get comfortable behind our screens - but so much more good can be done face to face. (And yes, I realize the inherent irony here of a blog, but I definitely work on practicing what I write about in "real life.") 

With that said, it's vitally important for bellydancers to listen, understand, and address these concerns. When someone raises the cultural appropriation flag, we should not look at it defensively as someone yelling at us "You need to stop dancing!" but rather ask ourselves, "What are we doing to honor this dance?"

It is also very important for us to understand what and how the younger generations see us.  As I have mentioned earlier on in the year and last year - there is a decline in younger students.  One of the many reasons for this is that young people are far more culturally aware and sensitive now than ever. They don't want to be involved in something that seems offensive and outdated. So we must ask ourselves, "Are we aware of how we are representing the dance?"

So that solution part I mentioned earlier? Regardless of what style you dance, understand it's definitive connection to both Arab and Muslim cultures.  The least you can do is be respectful of those cultures - and the most you can do is immerse yourself in learning about them, from classes to travel abroad, or within your hometown. Reach out to help with refugees through donations or services, be an advocate against hate speech.  Learn, know, and respect the roots of your dance by treating those people as you would wish to be treated.  That's human thing to do.

*I specifically say "Arabs and Muslims" because not all Arabs are Muslim (they can be Christian, Jewish, Atheist, or whatever), nor are all Muslims of Arabic descent (Turks, Pakistani, Indian, Indonesian, Caucasian, etc).  Hopefully this is not a newsflash, but from the state of the Internet, it seems a lot of folks don't understand this.

**Most bellydance imports today are made in North Africa (Egyptian, Morocco, etc), Turkey, India, Pakistan, and Indonesia.  I can guarantee for you that the majority of those workers aren't Christian white folk. 

The Real Safe Haven

“Surely all art is the result of one's having been in danger, of having gone through an experience all the way to the end, where no one can go any further.” ― Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters on Cézanne

A little while ago I noticed a fair amount of folks throwing around the concept of "the stage as a safe place for our art."  And it really puzzled the heck out of me. In fact I am pretty sure I made this sound.

I credit my years of art school training with instilling within me the concept that the studio/classroom is a "safe" place to learn and grow, but once it goes out to the gallery, anything can happen.  You can practice your technique, charter your concept, execute your theory as much as you want, but once it goes out to the public, it's largely out of your hands how people will respond. So it's not "safe", and by the nature of it, is actually extremely risky and full of danger.

Which I think therein lies in much of the source of stage fright.  Sure, you're afraid you're going to mess up, but much of the fear has a lot more to do with doing it in front of a whole bunch of people, and not knowing how they will react: the unknown frontier. We know this to be true through our own experience as the audience - because of what we have thought when we have been exposed to other people's art on stage. (Everyone's a critic right?) 

The stage and the gallery, these are not "safe" places. You can think you're hitting your target market and sympathetic audience all you want, but you have no control over what people think. Whether you're walking out on stage or hanging your art up on a wall, you are vulnerable.  Whether it's your body as a performer, or your visual art, or the music you play - you become exposed. It is the nature of performing, of putting your art out there.  We hope that we will be treated kindly, with insight, understanding, and respect - but we should also be aware of the diversity of human nature. It's hard to control who watches and comments on your videos and photos when you're trying to promote your work and get it out there. In order to become better performers, stronger artists, we have to accept those risks, process the feedback, and do what we can to protect ourselves in ways that won't hinder our growth or harm us.

Which is why I'm a big advocate for making sure the classroom/studio IS a safe place. Because of the dangerous nature of the stage, the classroom must provide a positive environment to build better artists. It must come from a place of respect and understanding between and among teachers and students.  It is important for students to feel comfortable enough to allow themselves to be challenged. It is vital for students to learn not only how to give but also how to receive constructive critiques.

What I try to do to make my classroom a safe place, in no particular order:
-Cut back on negative talk: whether it's self-deprecation or gossip/gripes about specific people/events/situations, the classroom is not the place for this. There's no room for excuses like "I can't do" or "I didn't do that because" - instead we focus on how we can make it work.
-Address students and others respectfully: All of my students are on the same level, despite how long they have been involved or how long I know them. I may push the ones I know closely a bit more because I can see when they are not giving themselves a fair shake, but there are no "stars." I will also name folks I respect by name and why, but I'm not going name those I don't agree with like "Glitterbibi can't find a beat to safe her life." Instead, I will use what irks me to find inspiration on how to teach my students to do better. Students should treat other as well respectfully.
-Balance general and specific feedback: Everyone can use posture reminders. Telling my class to make sure their chins are up creates a meerkat experience in my classroom that is fun and effective, but I also look for gentle ways to address problems individual dancers have without them feeling targeted or interrupting the class flow too much. We work on critique exercises, including the infamous "crit sandwich cookie."
-Communication: I encourage my students to ask me questions and to come to me about issues and concerns. I also have signals for when we need to cut down on chit-chat and get to work.
-Body/Age/Gender Positivity: All sizes, all ages, all genders are welcome in my classes. I am sensitive to the fact that moves will vary visually from body to body, and seek to help each student discover how to make the most of each move on their frame with their skill level and ability.
-We all Mess Up: I acknowledge the fact that I'm a dork in other people's classes (and well, in my own as well). We all make mistakes, that's how we learn how to do it right. If we can take away the fear of "doing it wrong" in class, students have much more confidence when it comes to doing it right on stage.

We can't protect our students from everything that could possibly happen on stage, but we can prepare them, and give them to the tools to be stronger performers. Which, if you think about it, makes them better audience members as well. Both elements in turn makes for a stronger, more supportive community that continues to elevate and empower itself.

Lastly, while we understand the stage is NOT a safe place, we recognize that beyond the dangers lay the possibilities for growth, transformation, education, and inspiration. That it is a risk worth taking for the artist who wishes to surpass their ego for the sake of enriching their work, as well as those who will come in contact with it.  Together we change.

What Lies Beneath

Now that another successful Waking Persephone has come and gone, and I'm back from being on tour, I'm starting work on a series of posts to help foster positive growth and stability within the dance community.  This first post highlights things I said in the community roundtable, and recent workshops. 

One of the many thoughts that ran through my head as I watched the chaos build, ebb, and spread online in mid-September is that these things were simply more rocks hitting an already cracked and compromised windshield, more bricks building on a crumbling wall, more weight on a thin sheet of ice.

To put it simply: the "bellydance community"* is not as strong as we'd like to think it is. A strong community knows how to properly and responsibly react to and handle problems.  It knows how to provide adequate support, help foster resolution, and clearly communicate. It repeatedly sets up and holds to positive examples of professionalism while addressing personal needs. And if it doesn't know how to do these things, it learns how to do them in order to become stronger.

I believe it is very important to stand up against objectification and fight sexual misconduct. But in order to best address those and similar issues, we need to make sure we're already taking care of ourselves and each other solidly. There is a significant level of harm that is done by dancers to each other through slander, theft of intellectual property, undercutting, and other shoddy business practices.  These very rampant issues cause much harm to our community - personally and professionally.  But they are rarely dealt with head-on and more often ignored for the sake of the cult of personality or "being nice."

So what can we do?

It all comes down to communication.

Communication is the cornerstone of community. Good communication fosters growth, stability, and solidarity.  Poor communication drives wedges, feeds negativity, and brews distrust.

It is very easy to get carried away with things we read online, misconstrue them, and feed into controversy.  But more often than not, all of that can be avoided entirely with a few easy steps.  Words can build and words can break, so it's up to us to use them effectively. So here are three points that can help us all build a better community:

READ. Practice comprehensive reading.  Before you share an item or reply to something, read it. Then read it again.  Then read it at least one more time to make sure you understand it. Then read what you wrote. And re-read it before you hit enter.

ASK.  If you don't understand or unsure about something, ask. And by ask, I mean, politely, concisely ask for clarification. "Could you please explain or expand upon what you meant by ...?" Then read (or listen to) the answer and review. Ask can also mean questioning yourself and your own thoughts: exercising critical thinking.  Why do you believe something to be true? Do you automatically agree with someone because they're your friend or your teacher, or disagree with someone because you don't know them or heard something about them? Why is that?

BE DIRECT & OPEN. This is probably the hardest part, but it definitely solves the most amount of problems. Women especially can have a hard time communicating with each other when they are afraid they may disappoint someone or make them angry.  Or read much deeper into something beyond what was meant by it. Have a problem with a person? Respectfully address THAT person - not your buddy, not their friend, not everyone but them and vaguebook it.  Instead, by being clear and upfront about concerns and issues, you can meet most issues head-on before they fester into serious problems.  FYI - being direct does not mean having license to be an asshole. I have seen some folks be very abusive under the heading of "I'm just telling it like it is." Remember to address people respectfully (even if you disagree with them), and consider how to address the problem and works towards finding a solution.

Hinging on that note of respect, here's the other vital part about understanding community and making it strong: what do we ourselves bring to it? If communication is the cornerstone, we are the earth underneath it and the stones built on top of it.  How stable are we? How much do we honor our own integrity?

It is very hard to treat others with respect if we don't do it to ourselves.  How often are you self-negative about your own body and abilities? If you are very critical of yourself, it stands to reason you will be critical of others.  Likewise, if you fail to have compassion for yourself, it's very hard to have it for anyone else.  Everything we build starts with us, as individuals.  How we treat ourselves often dictates how we treat others.  And probably the hardest piece of advice on this whole page is "be kind to yourself."

By addressing ourselves and each other with positive intent and constructive thinking, together we can build a better community for all of us. Which means that what lays beneath the icing is some gloriously fantastic cake.

(Yes I'm ending this on a food metaphor when I started out with a construction one.  Because cake.)


*(I put that in quotes because there are many different groups and communities - regionally, stylistically, by troupes/groups/associations. You could say that the controversy mainly impacted the Tribal community, or that the Oriental community is more grounded - but neither statement would be entirely correct either.  First of all, over 60% of dancers participate or work in multiple styles, so they're usually involved in multiple communities.  Secondly, one merely needs to look at old bellydance magazines or recent forums to see there has been and is just as much drama in the Oriental/Cabaret scene, for decades. And also, the advice here can work for EVERY kind of community...)

It's Not "Us or Them." It's Just "Us."

Today I need to make some steps to get back to some semblance of daily life. I want to say a few more things, and then I'm doing what I can to move forward in my own way.

Everyone has a right to express their reactions, emotions, and feelings in the face of tragedy. Everyone is going to have their own healing process and timetable. Talking about healing doesn't mean it's happened, or should happen quickly. I don't know when things are going to be "normal" again, nor do I have all (if any) of the answers.

As human beings, we are highly complex. Our backgrounds and experiences make us who we are, and that allow us to have different perspectives. The answers we are given are rarely the answers we want or crave. And that in turn makes us angry. This situation is far more complicated, and so there is no one side or two sides or eight sides. I can forgive and still be as angry as fuck and raw from in the inside out. I can talk about the hope of rebuilding without condoning the atrocities. I can only approach difficult situations the way I know how - with kindness. It may sound like an easy solution, but it's not. But once things are said and done, it's me I have to wake up with every morning. I'm the one who has to live with what I say to others and how I treat them.

I have not only been deeply pained by the original issue, but the way I have seen fellow human beings treat each other because of it. Slandering, name-calling, and bullying in private groups and exchanges makes you no better than the individuals responsible for this mess. It's good to vent, but it's not good to abuse someone who has a different perspective than you. No one has all of the information, no matter what they claim.

It's very important to stand up and fight against the injustices being done to us by "them." Words have power and can harm greatly - whether they are of a sexual nature or not. Abuse is abuse.

We need to communicate WITH each other, not at or around. So much treachery has been done by dancers to other dancers behind closed doors, or by people claiming to support them. This in itself is nothing new, we've been doing it ourselves forever. We have all done it, and have it done to us. I made a conscious decision a few years ago to try separate myself from participating in that vicious cycle. It's not easy, but it's made a world of difference in my life.

Your fellow dancers need you. We need your love and support. Stand up with us, not just for us. Ask us what we need, not just what you think we need. Be involved in building a healthy dance community that includes everyone, and where we work to solve problems by communicating, listening, and being kind.

How Do We Heal? Looking for solutions when our hearts hurt.

I look upon my dance community, and it causes me great pain to see and hear all of the anguish, suffering, and confusion. This dance is supposed to be about celebration, exploration, and expression. It should be a safe place for all to learn, grow, and share in.

I received notice that my own image was included in this controversy. I have not seen the images, but I don't need to - it doesn't change my anger and hurt over this. My heart goes out to my fellow dancers likewise directly or indirectly affected, and I appreciate all of those who wish to support us. I am deeply hurt, shocked, angered, and disappointed by actions taken by individuals in our community who claim to support us and our work. There is no excuse for such behavior, and wrong has been clearly done.

Having been a teacher, vendor, and volunteer at Tribal Fest for over a decade, I feel wrecked and raw. Kajira has been a close friend and mentor for many years, and has been there for me in times of need. I can't even properly express the amount of anguish I feel for her, and all of us affected - which really is...everyone. No one, it doesn't matter how many or how few, should be treated in the manners that were expressed.

I feel that I must make a statement about this situation for several reasons. I was not involved or consulted in the statement that went public on Sunday, and I don't feel comfortable letting other people speak for me or make actions on my behalf. My name and my word is my power. I want to talk about resolution, what is being done and what can be done to rectify this situation, what actions can be taken to further prevent these kind of activities and other dishonorable behavior within the community, and what sort of future are we building for our dance.

While I have not talked with any of the other members of the private group, I have spoken at length with Chuck and expressed my hurt and my anger to him in no uncertain terms. He was forthright in accepting his responsibility and apologizing unreservedly for his actions. But an apology doesn't remove the pain or make the situation go away. It is a step in the right direction, though - the first of many steps that he will need to undertake in order to properly make amends for his actions. I do believe he is truly sorry for his actions (and also lack there of), and that growth can come from this. Regaining trust and respect is going to be a difficult road and is going to take a long time - of that I have no doubt.

This past Tribal Fest was an especially powerful one for me. After years of working through difficult personal circumstances and professional drama within the community,TF15 truly felt like a homecoming. I feel like I was able to make peace with folks I have been estranged from, and I know others felt that way as well. So this tragedy makes that contrast all the more painful. Tribal Fest means so much to so many people, and has weathered so many changing conditions in the dance community. I believe it is possible to rekindle the spirit and beauty that is at the heart of the event, and get past this as well. I am willing to give Tribal Fest the benefit of the doubt, and lend my support to Kajira for reclaiming it as a safe, loving, and powerful space for our community.

Our society is in a state of flux, where outdated and small-minded acts are being purged for a more equal, healthy society that fosters respect and understanding. There are definitely some trees in our forest that need pruning, and I think we can do that without burning down the whole forest. I know that I, myself have made mistakes in the past, and have been granted the space to make it better - and I have extended this same courtesy to others. I believe in making amends and helping to facilitate positive change. I'm asking myself, those involved, as well as you, what are our next actions? What can we do to foster growth and healing, promote education and support, and strengthen our community?

One thing that I am doing to address this: In just a few weeks, the event that I produce, Waking Persephone, will take place for its 4th year. One of our features is our free, open-to-all community roundtable experience, where attendees can discuss problems, issues, and perspectives affecting them, and ask questions of their dance leaders. I am honored that Kajira is on our teaching staff this year, and I have asked her to address what has happened and be open to the community's questions and thoughts. I invite all attendees and the larger community in general to come and participate.

I am still absorbing the shock of all of what has happened, and it will take time to recover. I will do what I can to be available to my friends, students, and family, and I am very much interested in your thoughts and suggestions. My deepest hope is that the dance community will emerge out of this crisis even stronger, more beautiful, and more supportive.


Blessed be.

Tempest

Core Concern: Why I Don't Film My Classes

My home studio - photo by Geisha Moth

I have received many requests to offer my classes online, to just please film my weekly classes and make that footage available.  I truly feel for the folks who want to study with me on a regular basis, but live too far away or their schedule doesn't allow it.  I love teaching, so of course I want to respond to that need.  I am also aware that in this strange new world of the bellydance economy, a lot of workshop bookings happen because that teacher offered online classes.

But I just can't do it. Why is that?

It's not the technology.  I have an excellent camera, an excellent internet connection, and there are a multitude of resources to help me get that footage out there.

It's not the money. I work as an artist/dancer/designer full time, so the extra income isn't something to be blinked at.

It's not the content.  I have over two dozen workshop topics and offer 3 kinds of intensives, and I know the material is good and proven.  And for those of you who think I'm amusing and fun in workshops...my weekly classes are even more so...and with cats.

It's not quite the time either.  I do have a very full schedule, so the obvious choice would to be film the classes as I'm doing it to make the best use of time and effort.

So what's the deal?

It's about respect.

I respect my students, and endeavor to offer them a safe, positive environment to learn in.  I recognize the fact that class is about the learning process: that you don't get it right on the first try, that you're going to mess up something you know quite well, and you want to be able to do that where you feel comfortable as possible and supported.  My home studio is mirrored on 3 walls, and not a huge space, but we use it completely in a variety of formats throughout the class, so everyone would be in the frame of the camera regardless. And that's not something they need to be worrying about when they're spending their time and money with me to learn dance. (It shouldn't be a surprise to most that my classes aren't made up of lined up drills and repetitive combinations - which are easy to film, but not what I believe in when it comes to teaching dance.  There are other ways to build strength, muscle memory, and understanding of dance.) 

I also cater my classes directly to my students' needs.  I'm not teaching the class for my sake, it's all about them.  I invite my students to bring me their questions, concerns, and desires about what they want to learn.  If something comes up in class, I want to address it and work with them, rather than worrying about sticking to a set syllabus, or worrying about the clock. They need to feel free to ask questions and get feedback, without an unknown audience watching.

And online students can't get that level of direct feedback and interaction (at least not yet, maybe when there is real holodeck technology, and you could actually "beam" into the class, and interact like you ARE there), so that's another concern of respect.  And if I can't give you personal feedback and response in class, you might as well be watching one of my DVDs.  Which happens to be what my students use to keep in practice when I'm on the road and unable to offer weekly classes.

So what are your options if you don't live by me then? Well, obviously it's not the same as a live class for the reasons stated above, but both the Bellydance Artistry and DecoDance DVDs are a good place to start to work with my material.  I do offer skype lessons, schedule-permitting, but the best things to consider are in-person opportunities.   If you're traveling near Seattle (or I'm traveling near you), see about scheduling a private lesson.  An hour-long private lesson with me typically gives you at least a month or more of material to work on. Check to see if I am offering any intensives near you or if I am offering workshops at an event near you. Or inquire with your local event producer/promoter about hiring me for their next event - because as a producer myself, it helps to know about interest and draw concerning who to hire. (Well, this turned into the shameless self-promotion paragraph...)

Lastly, I don't offer online classes because our cats can't sign release forms.