Dance Education

"Can I stay out until midnight?' Oldest asked this morning.  "I want to go to the dance."

My eyebrows shot up. "Nooooo," I said, shaking my head slowly.  "Ten thirty."

"What?" he asked.  "Why so early?"

"Curfew is ten."

"But the police don't care if you are out late on a special night like homecoming!" he protested.

"Nope, ten-thirty." I was thinking fast.  "Then when you turn 14, you can come in at eleven.  Then when you turn 16, you can come in at 11:30 and when you turn 35, you don't have to come home at all!"

He didn't seem happy, but sometimes those clear rules make his life happier in the long run.  I was pleased to see that he was not arguing with me.  Each year would be something to look forward to.

"You've never been to a dance before, have you?" Suddenly it dawned on me that I had neglected the dance portion of his education.  " I suppose you'd like a few pointers."  He nodded, and I mused quietly for a moment.

It hadn't been my intention to give a lesson on dancing while driving back from the dentist.  We had enjoyed the time together, even stopping for a brunch, almost playing hookey for one hour on a day when no one in school was doing more than having games and parties.  My mind flashed back to my awkward teenage years as I slowly began to give advice.

"First, no matter how long you live, where, or what you do, there will always be one species you will never understand," I began.

"Women," he interrupted.

"Very good.  If it's any consolation, we don't understand men either, so it's okay.  Anyway, the one secret I can give you is that they love to dance, and they love men who dance."

He was looking at me suspiciously. 

"Unfortunately, I have neglected to teach you how to dance," I continued mournfully.  "And I can't carry a beat.  And truthfully, your dad doesn't know how to dance, really either, except for free style."

"Great," he said in disgust.  "With those kinds of genetics, I'll never be able to dance."

I told him of all of his uncles and aunts who could dance.  No, he wasn't hopeless genetically, he just needed to learn how.  I began to think of aunts and uncles who could help. 

Slowly I began to give him tips.  "Don't walk up to a girl and say, 'Yo, wanna dance?'  She wants to be treated nicely.  And don't just walk up and hold your hand out to her. She won't know if you are begging for money or what.

"I once danced with a boy during a dance and he completely fell in love with me. I didn't like him all that much, though he could dance.  But he went over the edge for me, won me teddy bears at the fair, wrote me love letters every day.  After a couple of weeks like that, I finally broke up with him."  I glanced over at my rapt listener, and thought it would be good to add, "He joined the military after high school.  Probably is a high ranking officer by now.

"You can feel free to dance with many girls, if you want." Spread the bad dancing rythmn around, that's my theory.  We talked about the chicken dance, the Cotton-eyed Joe and how much fun I had in Texas.  I told him about Quinceaneras, and wedding dances. 

Suddenly he said, "Yeah, me and Gus were doing the Robot yesterday."

I almost panicked.  I had forgotten some parts of this education.  "No! Look, there are some dances that are meant to be done alone, like the Robot or break dancing.  That's where all the attention is on one person.  But other dances are meant for just two."

I told him how to slow dance, to put his hand on her hip and no place else.  "She'll put hers on your shoulder, and you lead."

"Why do I lead?" he asked, alarmed.

"Because you are the man, and men do the leading.  That's just the way it is."  I could tell this was news to him.  "And remember, never grope a woman, or one day a woman will hit you, and maybe even break all of your teeth out."

His eyebrows shot up.  "Look, " I added.  "How would you feel if some girl walked up to you and grabbed you in the crotch and said, 'Hey baby, let's dance!'?"  He caught his breath.  "Well, see that's how it is with women.  Nobody likes to be groped.  So don't ever do it, okay?" 

He nodded and I could tell he was processing. 

How much did he learn?  What will he do tonight at the dance?  It will be another hour or so before he returns home after his first dance.  Will he have danced with a nice girl?  Will one swoon over his blue eyes and gentle hands?  Will he get tongue tied or just be a natural at it? I can hardly wait until he comes through the door.

And yet I know he will not tell me everything about tonight.  I may not find out who said "Yes" to his invitation, or if he got turned down by all the girls.  Will he remember the girls that aren't the most popular or beautiful?  Will he dance?

I will wait up for him and ask.  If he doesn't want to talk about it, I will back off.  If he calls asking for more time, I'll consider it.  most of all, I will keep my fingers crossed that he has a good time and try to figure out what else I will have to do to teach him to dance.