The Courage to Dance
Tango Tears
I’m teary-eyed.
My gym offers all kinds of classes and Zumba is one that attracts people (mainly women) of all ages and backgrounds, abilities and needs. I love this class. The instructor can be somewhat intense and intimidating but her imperfections make us feel welcome. Last week, however, she had what seemed to come out of nowhere: an attack of anger, a fit of rage, frustration and finally, of hurt. She began by yelling at us that we were bringing her and her trainee down and she ended by crying on one of the dancer’s shoulder about how she’s not a bad person, she just wants to bring joy through dance but feels hampered by our bad energy.
I turned to the sweet older ladies next to me and asked what could possibly have set this off. They couldn’t say but felt responsible and urged that they had been trying their hardest but couldn’t always keep up. I assured them (and myself) that this wasn’t our fault and that we are all good sports for participating.
I’m not going to lie. I didn’t feel like going back.
This week I stood in front of the studio room and debated whether or not to go in. Would the instructor have another meltdown? Would it be awkward? Would it be uncomfortable? I wasn’t sure. My favorite song came on and I decided to join despite my hesitations. After a minute, my face assumed its usual wide-eyed grin as I danced along and watched everyone shake what their mommas gave them.
Group fitness classes have something very inspiring and connecting about them. As someone who doesn’t follow a religion per se and does not believe in god-like entities, I get insight being in a group fitness class where everyone is invigorated, sweating, emboldened and free, into the exhilaration believers must feel when praying together. It’s truly beautiful.
Today was no different, except that I kept waiting for our instructor to have a break again, to crack and bare her teeth and tears. This didn’t happen. Instead, she continuously asked after each song how we felt and whether we liked the tracks she chose.
Cha-Cha Change
The end is where I got teary-eyed: During the slow cool-down song when the air is filled with everyone’s relief that it’s over and pride of accomplishment, the instructor invited us to take our neighbor’s hand in dance. The room had been darkened and we were gently swaying hand in hand: a bunch of women of all different shapes, sizes, and colors, with our instructor who had shown us a frightening side of her just a few days ago. The song ended and she began hugging everyone which set off a flurry of hugs among us attendees. It was so warm and genuine. I felt myself marveling at us and at her. At us for being courageous enough to come back and see what she’d be like today, and at her for being courageous enough to come back and try again.
See, the thing about people is that while we may have tendencies and susceptibilities, we are forever malleable. And the thing about mental health is that we can learn to use that malleability to our advantage.
Who knows what was and is going on with this woman. Fact is, she was lovely today and led an empowering class in which people felt connected and encouraged. Let’s all take a lesson from this instructor and be courageous enough to get up and try again.