Introduction
I love to dance. I would like to 'help people'. That's as far as I had got until I heard of a course on offer by the dance department at my university called 'Dance in the Community'. It sounded interesting. I signed up.
My name is Caroline - I am a third year anthropology student, and part-time 'dabbler' in dance. This narrative introduces my forays as a 'learner' into the intricate field of community dance, and begins to convey the richness of the experiences afforded to me through three very different experiences. Each community setting provides a unique journey of its own, and yet together the three experiences form a cohesive and powerful whole - united by their common underlying values of equality, diversity and negotiation.
Noticing and analysing our experiences
The aim of this article is to present a view of Dance in the Community that seems to have had little attention, the 'learner's' perspective. By learners, I am referring to the viewpoint of a group of tertiary students with little or no experience of dance in a community setting; learners who are discovering, through experience, how to engage in and facilitate dance with and within diverse community settings. In most instances community dance activities and events are organised, led, taught and facilitated by someone with experience, knowledge, enthusiasm and firm belief in the value of the activity. In this article, however, three distinct 'dance in the community' experiences are explored from the perspective of the 'uninitiated'.
Brooklands retirement village We piled into the mini-van and buckled up, ready for the short drive down the highway and over the hill to Brooklands Retirement Village. We were a group of 9 students and this was our first meeting with a group of 10 elderly men and women who had formed a weekly social dance group at the village - and our very first foray into the realm of community dance.
Gradually a process of mingling began, as several students broke free from their shy clusters and introduced themselves to various residents. The Brooklands crew were buoyant and welcoming, pro-actively encouraging these first interactions. Suddenly Stan - who we soon came to understand was 'the leader', teacher, and keenest dance enthusiast of them all - cut through the prolonged and slightly awkward mixing with a firm announcement that he and the Brooklands group were going to teach us the Cha Cha. "Find a Partner" - and we were off!
I introduced myself to Shirley and we moved onto the floor where Stan was already in full swing with his lesson. The Brooklands group were familiar with Stan's Cha Cha, and even more so with his dry sense of humour. After quickly demonstrating the 1, 2, cha-cha-cha step and rhythm, he proceeded to show us 3 different variations and was off to put the music on. He obviously trusted that we would all catch on and, importantly, that we would learn from each other. The hour-long session raced by, as we did the 'Cha Cha' then the 'Stoshe', followed by the samba we had created. The Brooklands residents learnt this quickly and happily. We finished the session by sitting down and talking. Stan, in his particular 'no nonsense' style, asked students to introduce themselves. He particularly requested we talk about our degrees and what we planned to do with this dance experience.
The discussion prompted much interest in each other and in the fact that children were learning dance within schools. This group of 70-85 year old people were intrigued and happy to hear that dance would be taught in the New Zealand school curriculum from 2003 in all schools. They wondered who was going to teach the dance and what types of dance; they were alert to the issues and interested in our involvements. In talking of themselves, many of the residents' recounted dances they had learnt in their own childhood, some in England and others in New Zealand. Stan revealed he'd learnt ballroom dance as a youth in London; he recalled the bombing raids, the sirens and the blackouts as a vivid backdrop to these memories. He most fondly remembered meeting his wife Billy while dancing, and the ensuing years of ballroom dance competition they shared. Others recounted equally poignant memories.
In this very first session, we had gained a small insight into the profound role that dancing had played in the social fabric of these lives. Stan had at one stage made the comment, "Today young people dance at each other. We danced with each other". It was food for thought, especially as many of us went off over later nights to the dance parties that were the dance form most familiar to us.
The mini-van ride home was abuzz with excitement and happy chatter. The next day, in class back at the university, we reflected upon the visit as well as discussing what we might like to do in the following four visits. For most of us the visit had been about 'people', more than about dance. As Morris said, "It was cool just meeting them". He went on to say, "I was amazed by their eyes and the way they held me, you know - they were so alive". We discussed the development of this comfortable informality where the needs and interests of the participants organically found a sense of partnership.
The sun is streaming through the window onto the gleaming wooden dance floor. I am holding the warm, worn, wrinkled hand of Frazer in one hand, while the other rests lightly on his slightly hunched shoulder. We are not sure who is guiding who around the dance floor - at times we stand on each other's feet, and at others we get it right and it feels like we are gliding through the air. Our eyes smile at each other. We are from different eras, different dance styles, we have different bodies and different stories. But here, in the waltz, our stories meet and all the differences melt away.
Sara Cohen school for disabled children
Disability. What does that mean? What can we expect? Will we be out of our depth? It is the day before we are due to have our first dance session with pupils at Sara Cohen School, and hesitations abound. As a class we have already spent four sessions with residents of a retirement village, and a group cohesiveness and confidence is forming. However, the demands of this new assignment seem much greater. All of us had had contact with older people such as grandparents and family friends prior to the sessions at Brooklands. Conversely, the majority of us have little or no previous contact with 'disabled' people...let alone dancing with them. Will we know what to do? Ralph reassures us that all we have to do is turn up and join in.
Ralph is decisively yet fluidly in charge of the session. "Howdy-doody everyone" he exclaims, and is greeted by exclamations of welcome and delight from many of the students who have danced with him before. "We are going to start by walking around the room. Just walking, and when you pass people say hello to them". And so it begins. With the simple act of walking, the room is suddenly alive with movement and greetings. From swinging our arms as we walk, we are invited to hold someone's hand and swing someone else's arm! The transition to physical contact is so easy, and soon we are walking backwards, round in circles, and following someone else like carriages of a train. Fears are slowly melting away with the warmth of the interactions and the swinging, happy music.
Upon sitting down in a large circle, we are already a thoroughly stirred pot of ingredients. Non-disabled students sit next to disabled students sit next to carers sit next to whomever they happen to plonk down beside. Ralph calls out instructions, and we move together. The movements are generally simple but still dynamic and fun. They are also thoroughly open to interpretation and adaptation, according to the respective movements of those present. Many times Ralph will pick up on the way a particular student in the group is moving, and this will provide the next directive. "Lets move our arms the way Julian is", and Julian grins with satisfaction as he realises he is leading the group. There is no onus on us to 'make up moves', when the Sara Cohen students create such authentic, joyous movement themselves.
During the three sessions, Ralph introduces a blend of activities; both improvised and set dances, partner and group work, activities with props and without. He is perceptive to the atmosphere in the room, and senses when things are getting too hard, too easy, too boring or too out of control. It is a careful balancing act of relationships. The same is true on a micro-scale within our small groups. Members of our class are gradually establishing the same sense of what works and what doesn't, where the boundaries lie, and are learning the flexibility and perseverance required to make some activities successful.
At times working with the set dances seems easier, particularly with the sense of structure and musical direction they provide. However, it was the quieter times, those intimate moments of connection during improvised dance, which will perhaps stick in our memories the longest.
Cath forms a statue, inviting someone to come and complement her. Suddenly, in a beautiful act of synchronicity, tiny shy Jason slots himself between her arms and simply stays there, poised. It is the first time he has participated. It is perfect.
In speaking of all the joy, it must also be acknowledged that moments of discomfort did exist when we became acutely aware of our inexperience. What were the boundaries? In fact watching other class members have their minor yet major successes, sensing their ease with a certain student, there can almost be a sense of envy or panic - "I'm not that good with them. Am I doing O.K.? I don't want people to think I'm scared? I want to look like I'm helping." But then the panic abates, and the realisation dawns that just by being there we are helping. Helping to create a new experience for all involved, helping to forge a new kind of multi-dimensional community through the sharing of our two groups. And that's what it seemed to be all about. Sharing.
It was also, on reflection, about challenging our notions of who can dance and what dance can be. Working over several sessions, a new aesthetic appreciation grew in us that allowed us to delight in the beautiful work being created.
The Catlins: dance and ecology
Woolly hats, tramping boots, sleeping bags, chocolate - there is an ever-increasing pile of gear outside the PE School as we prepare for departure. We are about to begin our much anticipated dance camp to the Catlins, a coastal region in the southeast corner of the South Island, New Zealand - an area high in scenic and natural values and low in population. Rugged, forested, moist, running down to dramatic sea cliffs and long arcing beaches, it is spectacular, and even by New Zealand standards undiscovered.
Yet discover it we would, over the two days and nights ahead. The goal of our trip was, as Ali said, to 'tune in' - to pay vital attention with all our senses to the eco-systems we were to encounter, and in doing so to acknowledge the rich webs of inter-related processes occurring around us. By tuning in, we ourselves would then bring a participatory consciousness to the environment around us - fostering a notion of community in the broadest sense.
A magnificent and most gracious whale was slowly making its way down the coast, parallel to the track down which we walked. He accompanied us all the way to the headland, alternately surfacing and diving again into the deep blue waters around him. Intermittently his blowhole would sound a deep, mysterious welcome to us, followed shortly by a wave of his tail. He was a magical and unforgettable omen for the trip ahead.
We had learnt a valuable lesson that was enforced again and again over the next two days. That to accept and adapt to the environment, including the weather would mean that we would be much more open to seeing and experiencing all around us. Our accommodation at the Pounawea Camp was simple and sparse. As classmates for the previous 10 weeks we knew each other to varying degrees. By the end of the weekend, we would know each other well. Living together, and more importantly eating together, are powerful communal processes. An important aspect of this community forming process occurred on the first night.
We sit around the table with full bellies, and the glow of red wine on our cheeks. We wear big ugly jumpers and our make-up is gone. We move around the table and each speaks briefly of our lives - what brings us to this table? It is a powerful thing, this sharing of our own stories, and when we finally disperse to our beds we each know we have been trusted with a treasured gift.
Piling back into the van in the morning, the weather is again looking dubious, but our explorations will not be so easily hindered. Our destination is Purakanui Bay, the aim of this first journey, in and around Purakanui Bay, is simply to walk; but to walk with a sense of identity and awareness. Ali encourages us to remain silent; to notice and remember as much as possible of the images, objects, textures around us; to be awed by the grandeur of the landscape and simultaneously intrigued by the smallest rock pool. We write and draw our responses, or simply let them subtly weave into the web of our consciousness. Some sit with eyes closed just listening, some move, some touch. We are tuning in.
After sharing our sandwiches with several million sandflies during lunch beside a small estuary, the afternoon held slightly more structured activities. Ali asks us to choose one square metre in the area beside Lake Wilkie as the site of an individual investigation. We spend a considerable amount of time acutely observing every aspect of the site's ecology, layers, life forms, shapes, textures, sounds - gradually familiarising ourselves with and imprinting this small slice of the environment within ourselves. When asked to describe our piece of earth to others in the class, the responses are diverse and revealing.
Angela describes her area in terms of dance vocabulary, knitting together intimate choreography of linear flax formations and whirling sand bugs.
Paul astounds us with his botanical knowledge, categorising each and every species; familiarised with a name.
This was tuning in, in its finest sense. By identifying so strongly with this one area, our focus and attention was at its most acute, and possibly the most rewarding.
On the final morning we head off to Surat Bay, a long beach that is a favourite haul-out place for sea lions. Once again we are accompanied by extreme changes in the weather and this adds to the sense of drama created by the presence of the large and potentially aggressive sea lions dotted along the beach. Ali leads the class in an activity that explores some aspect of the environment around us.
We become a grain of sand, swept and spun along the beach with abandon by the wind.
We sit in the maram grass listening to the soundscape around us then attempt to imitate it
We are proud sea lions, arching our backs, looking up and beyond the sea to the sky.
We perform a ritualistic sun salute as the sun arrives with its warmth and light.
Our experiences at Surat Bay are generally somatically based yet at the same time have an external aesthetic that is dynamic and pleasing. This is the last destination of our camp, and our sense of identification with the environment around us has evolved profoundly over the weekend. We are now creating dances through a process that has grown organically from our ecological experiences.
The camp reinforced the notion that there are many different ways of learning and many different learning environments. Our learning experience in the Catlins was almost totally experiential, and in this lay its transformative power - we were learning with body, mind and spirit.
Conclusion
These three community dance experiences, Brooklands Retirement Village, Sara Cohen Special School, and the Catlins, were each so different. Each setting provided its own distinct challenges to us as learners, and similarly its own unique rewards. And yet on closer examination, the three experiences can be shown to share fundamental similarities.
Our community dance experiences all taught us that diversity matters, diversity in people, diversity in the environment. Diversity in how we dance and what can be considered as dance. Our experiences were also about negotiation. They were about finding a meeting point with the groups we interacted with, and subsequently forming a wider community based around our point of commonality - the dance.
Finally, our experiences instilled in us an attention to the here and now. Community Dance is about dancing with or talking to this person, it is about adapting to this environment and this weather, and about opening our senses and perceptions to find the dance in every interaction.
At Brooklands Retirement village we danced. With Sara Cohen children we danced. Amongst nature in the Catlins we danced. And in all instances there was a dance within the dance, a dance of acceptance, respect, equality, and opportunity. A gift.
Caroline Plummer graduated from the University of Otago, Dunedin, New Zealand with a BA Social Anthropology (Distinction) and a Diploma for Graduates in Dance (Distinction). Caroline taught creative dance classes for children, and was undertaking further Anthropology research. Yoga played an important part in her life. Caroline died of cancer on 28 April, 2003.
Dr Ralph Buck lectures in Dance Studies, University of Otago, Dunedin, New Zealand. His research focuses on dance education and community dance.