I loved contra-dancing. At first, I was a little nervous because I'm not very good at dancing and my first partner was an experienced contra-dancer. The fact that I was dancing with a complete stranger did not help my case either, especially with the whole staring-into-each-others'-eyes-the-whole-time thing. When the music started, I looked at everything except my partner and made myself dizzy. So the next set I looked at my partner's ear and let him lead me, stumbling, through the moves of the dance. Even though the dance was repetitive, it took me a while to settle into the movements because they were so different from what I was used to in more modern dance. However, pretty soon I realized no one really cared that I was horrible so I stopped apologizing to my partners and started to relax a little. As soon as I relaxed, I got better and fell into the rhythm of the dance. As the dancing continued throughout the night, I danced mostly with older, more experienced contra-dancers who were all incredibly kind and helpful. Once, after partially causing a train wreck at the end of one of the lines, one of the regular contra-dance-goers assured me "it doesn't matter if you make a mistake, we just want everyone to be involved," solidifying the participatory nature of the event. At the end of each dance, another stranger would come up to me, ask me to dance, and introduce himself. None of them minded telling me which way to go, and in fact seemed glad to teach me what they knew about contra-dancing; and I was glad to learn. The kindness of these complete strangers gave me a sense of communitas; I knew that everyone was rooting for everyone else even if some dancers, like myself, had to be dragged along like luggage. It was not competitive at all either. Because the dance was choreographed by the caller, it was easy to follow along and often partners and neighbors would tell-or pull-you to the right position. The more experienced dancers sometimes added in spins or twirls of their own but it seemed more to give themselves a challenge than to showcase their talent. Contra-dancing was very different from the dancing I am accustomed to. Usually I avoid dancing if I can because I feel intimidated. Everyone seems to be competing and I feel judged for my lack of skill. Contra-dancing was the complete opposite which is one of the reasons I loved it so much.
I would definitely attend this event again. I felt very welcome and comfortable in spite of my lack of skill and everyone was extremely helpful. All the regular contra-dancers were delighted to have so many new people and went out of their way to dance with us and invite us to come again. I also was able to experience flow while dancing; after a while I wasn't just going through the motions, I was dancing to the music. I stayed almost to the end of the event, not really caring what time it was because I was having so much fun dancing with people I didn't even know. It was also a pretty good work-out.
This sort of participatory experience is great for getting people out of their comfort zone and involved. It is not competitive so everyone is helping everyone else and a sense of communitas encompasses everyone. There is no distinction between artist and audience, just everyone participating and contributing to the experience. In fact, if everyone had not been involved (even us beginners) it certainly would not have been as successful. Because of these values of participatory music, the community is brought closer together and forms a cohort. Common values as well as differences and diversity can be shared and respected through the cohort; everyone is equal within the democracy of participatory music. The primary goal of any participatory music-making experience is social bonding and the contra-dancing definitely succeeded in this goal.
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