Saturday, January 31, 2009

Contra thoughts at 1:14 am

Although the rest of the 20-something world is perhaps enjoying the peak of their evening at this time, I am returning home, tired and riding a coffee high from my drive back to Springfield, VT from Greenfield, MA, where three teenagers and a 7 year old enjoyed one heck of a contra dance with me. Usually this type of adventure would end with me curling into bed, my deepest thoughts concerning whether the below zero temperatures require me to wear a hat to sleep or not, but tonight my inside's burst not only with the tingling effects of caffeine but also sweet joy.

You see, tonight I watched three girls emerge from their existences as mill-town observers to find themselves surrounded by and active participants in a world where men wear skirts to feel air rush between their legs when they turn and no one says no when asked to dance unless there is a bathroom emergency. I messied myself in attempts to remember steps and follow after months of leading, feeling very much a peer to these teenagers I may have eyed at a distance even recently. There is comfort in this western MA world for me - this is where I spent my undergraduate years and I know these people - and yet being here is a good reminder of how quickly we adapt to the places we live in. The sparkle in my eyes matched Eliza, Shena, Kamryn, and little Shanikwa.

I danced with my lady friends and with another child, El, who at 8 could have taught most people there how to dance in lines, changing partners, twirling and coming together. I also sat and held the head of the child I brought with me, the rest of her body bundled up in a sleeping bag as the night grew late, and I imagined what it would be like to have a child grow up with such comfort in this social, free space. Eliza, Shena, and Kamryn bring a little of this dance home with them, which may be seen in sparkley shoes and vocal attempts to convince their male counterparts to join the party next go around. And I bring home another reminder of happiness found in the firm hand of another pressing against my lower back, relaxed and smiling.