Pas de Don’t

It doesn’t always take two to make a thing go right.

‘Twas the second night of Movement and I'm standing on the dancefloor fully immersed on my phone. In full transparency, I was breaking a self imposed rule- a stagnant statue taking up space, my feet glued to the ground- and I wasn’t even writing. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, a girl sauntered over dancing somewhat sloppily, whipping her long brunette hair around like she was in a 90's Herbal Essences commercial. Though her eyes were obscured by blacked out shades, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize that she was moseying over to hit on me. And before continuing, I’ll clarify that compliments are very much appreciated and until that point there was no harm nor foul.

Anywho- I'll get to the point. Which is this. She got waayyyyy too close for my comfort- right up in my grill. And then, it got worse. She felt the need to reach out and touch me. I am not down with strangers’ grubby paws coming at me. And most definitely not where she did- which was near my pelvic area- aka close to my vagina. I calmly explained, “thank you, but I don't like to be touched.”

My reaction was eons nicer than I’ve ever been to any man who’s tried to get inappropriately handsy. To put it very mildly, they've gotten my wrath. But this entitled beotch had the gall to look at me aghast as if I lost my mind. Perhaps that move works for her at other clubs or the Playboy Mansion, but not in Detroit- at least not for me. Not now, and not ever. And I got the feeling rejection isn’t something she’s used to as her face quickly turned to outrage. Her lack of self awareness was appalling at best. So I looked her square in the eyes with a harsh look and snapped, “ummmm, that’s proper,” turned on my heels and walked away.

I’ll pause here to clock myself because I realized much of the shock stemmed from her being a woman. Which I really have to check myself for. Because an unwelcome touch is an unwelcome touch. And all things being equal, my reaction based on gender is something to ponder. Because shitty conduct is shitty conduct. Period. And over the years, I’ve heard an equal amount of similar stories from straight and queer friends alike. 

And wouldn’t you know it?! The “theme” continued into the night. At the next party, a friend- who had no clue what had happened to me, was randomly pondering whether people still ask strangers to dance. Like in the way you might get asked at a junior high dance. Not one to settle for unanswered questions, he immediately put his inquiry to test, walked up to someone, extended his hand politely and said- “would you like to dance?” And wouldn’t you know it, the reply was quick and a hard “no.”

I should point out that I’m not the most practiced or knowledgeable about dancing in groups. Far from it because my prancing primarily takes place in my own world. Which I thought was standard practice for most of my life- perhaps stemming from many years of ballet training. That is until about 5 years ago when a friend pointed out that I might want to consider engaging with others on the dancefloor. They were nervous to receive my reaction, but I found it to be one of the most loving things they ever did for me.

I had spent decades dancing meditatively, yet feeling at one with my fellow dancers. But in actuality I was far removed. And was clueless to the fact that I was traversing the dancefloor differently than the majority of people. They challenged me to dance with others- not because I was doing it wrong (cause I wasn't). But to open my eyes so I could experience my world in a new way. And let me tell you- it was quite the challenge. My approach was awkward at first (it still can be for sure). The concentration it takes me to have this type of non-verbal communication, typically culminates in two left feet tripping over myself- and hopefully not others.

I’m writing this column while at a boat party (off the dancefloor this time around) and surveying the crowd. It reaffirms that my go to methodology makes me a duck out of water. But I’m very glad I gave it a go- and still do from time to time. Because these out of my comfort zone experiences majorly inform my philosophy about the dancefloor and community. Now, don’t get it twisted- I still dance introvertedly 92% of the time. But when I’m feeling it, I open myself up to be more vulnerable at the places I'm most at home.

So what’s my point you might be wondering?! There's no right and wrong when it comes to how you choose to move your body. The only wrong is non-consensual touching. No matter where you are on the gender binary, sexuality or what party you’re at. So seriously y’all. Most of us learned in kindergarten to keep our hands and other extremities to ourselves. And it's really not that hard.