Steps towards Body Love

I get weird, squishy creases when I bend this way and that's OK.

Side note, it's really weird to see my right hip without a tattoo.

When I shared last week's post about pizza 'n' bikinis, I got a lot of interesting responses, but what made me sad were the ladies who said they didn't love their bodies. It got me to thinking about my own progress in loving myself, so I thought I would share it.

Note: I realize that I speak from a place of privilege here. I'm white, medium sized, cisgender, and aside from my teeth, probably conventionally pretty. So I started from an easier point than others do. Still, maybe my advice will give you something to think about, and set you on a path to look for advice from people who have a similar experience to you.

For me, the first step to body love was finding individual parts of my body to love. For one thing, I love my hair. Even before I decided to dye it with henna making it a color that I adore, I loved its length, thickness, and gentle waves. I loved how I could put it in a bun and anchor a bunch of hairsticks, flowers, and other accessories in it.I loved wearing it down my back, or in braids, or in a bouncy ponytail.

Next, I learned to love my eyes. I never thought much about them, other than the fact that they tended to change color from time to time, but my husband loves them, and because he loves them, I love them. If your lover thinks that a part of your body is especially beautiful, ask him or her to tell you why, in detail. It will make you feel all ooey-gooey inside and help you see yourself as your lover sees you.

Somewhere along the way, I decided I also loved my legs. Sure, other people think they're too pale, and they are attached to my excessively tight hips, but I love how long they are, and I love their shape, and I love how elegant I feel in an arabesque with my leg stretched out behind me.

Once I came to love a few body parts, it was easier to be pretty happy with my body in general, and learn to love most of the things that I didn't like, or at least accept them.

Another way to love your body, if you can't bring yourself to be happy with your looks (or if you're already cool with your looks but unhappy about an illness or injury that keeps you down), is to love what your body DOES. The human body in and of itself is a pretty amazing thing, and each of us has probably achieved some cool thing with our body. I love my body because it's pretty good at dancing and that makes me incredibly happy. Maybe you love your body because it grew a baby, or because you can bench press an insane amount of weight, or you ran a 5k, or your body carried you up to some beautiful place where you got the most breathtaking view of your life.

One last thought: Body love and self-improvement are not mutually exclusive. I love my body, yes, but I also dye my hair, I'd like to lose 5-10 pounds, and I'm always working on improving my strength and flexibility. Loving your body doesn't mean you wouldn't change anything about it! I think of it this way: you can love your house, but still want to remodel the kitchen and paint the bathroom. The important thing is to have a healthy attitude about the changes you're making! Love the body you're in, but also love the progress you make with it and the different body you'll have down the road. 

Why I Don't Teach

Photo by Santa Joe.

 

Maybe about once a month or so, I come across someone who thinks I should be teaching belly dance. I always smile and say something like "Oh, maybe some day, but not right now" which you think would be enough, but sometimes they come back with "Oh, why not?" or "You really should" or "I think you'd be great." So let me spell out a few reasons why I, and probably a lot of other dancers like me, do not teach yet.

 

1. Let's just get this out of the way. I am not as good of a dancer as you think I am! No, I'm not being excessively humble or tearing myself down. I think I am a good dancer, but I'm not yet a great dancer. More importantly, when you see me perform, you see the best of me. I only break out the moves that I am good at, the props that I am proficient with, the sort of music I'm comfortable with. You don't see all the elements of a well-rounded dance knowledge that I am still struggling with.

 

2. I am not even dancing professionally yet. This isn't to say that I think a teacher has to also be a professional performer. Maybe a teacher might have another job or family commitments that makes it hard for her to be out performing at night. But I think a teacher should be good enough that she (or he) could be performing professionally.

 

3. Knowing how to dance is not the same as knowing how to teach dance. I know how something works and feels in my body -- that doesn't mean that I know how it works and feels in your body. Or what might be making it not work in your body. Or how you can safely do that move if you have a knee injury. Before I teach belly dance, I want to make sure to get some formal training in anatomy and physiology, because I would hate to cause an injury to a student due to a lack of knowledge of body mechanics.

 

4. Tucson doesn't need yet another teacher offering beginning belly dance classes, and currently, that's all I'd be able to teach. There are other, more experienced, more qualified teachers already offering classes in my city, why would I compete with them?

 

5. Hanging your shingle as a teacher before you're ready can be really damaging to your reputation as a dancer. I don't want to overstep my bounds of where I am as a dancer and burn bridges with people who I might want to work with in the future. I'm in dance for the long haul and I want to foster good, healthy relationships rather than trying to shove myself into the void left by my own teacher moving away and making a quick buck or two before people realize that I'm in over my head.

 

So yes, I do appreciate the vote of confidence and I'm glad that I put forth an image of being professional, skilled, and knowledgeable but no, I am not ready to teach. Yet. Talk to me again in a couple more years! 

In Defense of the Selfie

I posted this "selfie" on Thursday night as I was about to head out the door to Open Stage. Why? Well, I was feeling pretty happy about my freshly-hennaed hair and how I was wearing it down, and how cute my magenta glitter lipstick looked, and I wanted to share it with the world. I think it's fun when dancers post a little "On my way to the show" picture too, as it builds the excitement.

Then today, I read this article titled "The Age of the Selfie" which suggested that I should not, in fact, be inflicting pictures of my face upon my friends. How dare I be so vain as to suggest that I might be a little pretty and that maybe people would like to see me? Well obviously I have a couple of problems with the anti-selfie sentiments that float around on the internet!

My first problem is the suggestion that there's something wrong with feeling that you are pretty or cute or that your new haircut is awesome. I don't have the best self-esteem but there are still days when I look in the mirror and think to myself "Self, you're so darned cute today, look at that outfit and that makeup, you're rockin' it!" And while I don't share all of those moments with the internet, sometimes I feel so good about myself that I do want to share, and then yes, I definitely enjoy the validating comments that I get from my friends.

It's no secret that girls and women suffer from a lot of image-based insecurity. Whether it comes from what we see in the media, or how we were treated when we were kids, or rude comments in the street, or a complicated combination of all that and more, it's a hard problem to combat. But it seems like there are segments of the population who feel like we're supposed to feel bad about ourselves, and that feeling good about how we look is horrible vanity. Oh, we should care about how we look, we should primp and preen and dress to impress, but as soon as we acknowledge that we did a good job making ourselves presentable, we're being narcissistic.

My second problem is that I think a lot of people who are against selfies have a deep misunderstanding of the nature of internet friendships. Sure, I have friends on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram that I see in person regularly, but I also have friends who I rarely if ever see face-to-face. Some of them are friends who I've only known on-line, others are people who I met in person but they've since moved away. I LIKE seeing selfies of my long-distance friends. I like knowing what they've done with their hair, what kind of clothes they're wearing these days, what they're out doing in the city they live in now. And a lot of my friends LIKE seeing selfies of me. Especially now that I bellydance, they always want to see pictures of my new costumes, what sort of makeup looks I'm experimenting with, and of course, videos of me dancing.

My third and final problem with all this anti-selfie raging is that it is the smallest, stupidest of problems to worry about. Sick of seeing a friend's selfies? Just scroll past them. No big deal. If they post them constantly, you can even adjust your newsfeed on Facebook to not show their pictures. Honestly, what is it harming anybody if people like to post lots of pictures of themselves having fun, looking pretty, being bored, soliciting opinions on their new hair color, or anything like that? They're not spreading hateful opinions or damaging misinformation or overplayed memes. They're saying "Here's what I'd look like if you were here with me right now" and there's nothing wrong with that.

Why I Love White Belly Dancers (and dancers of all other colors)

Belly dancers come in all colors, shapes, sizes and ages!

I can't bring myself to read that article that all the belly dancers are mad about, you know, the one where the author doesn't like white belly dancers and thinks we're engaging in some harmful cultural appropriation. But what I can do is write something pleasant about diversity in dance.

One of the things that I love the most about this dance form is how inclusive it is. I've known dancers of various races, sizes, shapes, ages, genders and sexual orientation and while there may be the occasional other dancer who isn't as accepting as we would like, the community as a whole is cool about everyone being welcome. We're also welcoming of different religions, political groups, professions and more.

I love belly dance for introducing me to all sorts of people I never would have met otherwise. I've made friends with whom I had a zillion things in common, and friends from very different walks of life from me. It's really broadened my horizons and made me better at relating to people with whom I only have one thing in common.

I'm not saying that there's never any cultural appropriation in dance. I've seen and heard about things that could be considered culturally insensitive and inappropriate. But I've also known people whiter than me (yes, it is possible) who have dedicated themselves to presenting a culturally accurate and respectful version of Egyptian Raqs Sharqi. I know people who study and perform authentic cultural dances from the Middle East to authentic music in authentic costumes. I know people who travel overseas to learn more about the dance, who study Arabic, etc. And for those of us who perform Americanized styles such as my beloved "tribal fusion", many of us still make the effort to learn about the roots of our dance, familiarize ourselves with the greats in traditional styles, study with Egyptian-style teachers, and educate our general-public audiences about the difference between what we're doing and what they're used to seeing at the Lebanese restaurant across town.

No matter what, I know that some people are still going to be offended by non-Middle-Eastern dancers doing belly dance, and there's nothing I can do about that. But there's lots of other things I do in my life that might offend people (my way of dressing isn't modest enough for some religions, I have a tattoo, I say naughty words, I eat meat, I post pictures of insects on FB even though I know I have friends who are afraid of them, I'm just a bundle of offenses). I'm going to keep dancing, because I love it, and I'm going to keep being white, because I have no choice in the matter, and I'm going to keep loving the diverse community that I am a part of. 

First Mondays

I've been participating in First Mondays for a while now, because I believe strongly in supporting artists and small businesses. Usually I use it as an excuse to buy something small from my Etsy favorites, every now and then it's a big splurge (my beautiful peacock-colored fan veils were a First Monday purchase!). Here's a few of my ideas of how bellydancers can incorporate First Mondays into their lives:

1. Buy some new music, preferably directly from the artist via their website.
2. Register for an upcoming workshop or session of classes.
3. Get a ticket to an upcoming bellydance event or other cool performance art to inspire you.
4. Spruce up your look with a new handmade bindi, hair accessory or piece of jewelry.
5. Get a new hand-dyed silk veil.
6. Splurge on a custom costume item.
7. Back a dance-related crowdfunding campaign.
8. Pamper yourself with hand-blended perfumes or cosmetics.
9. Get a print of a beautiful image to hang in your practice area.
10. Buy a handmade card and use it to write a heartfelt note to a favorite teacher, struggling classmate or awesome event promoter.

These ideas can easily start as low as a dollar for a new song, so really, there's no excuse not to do at least a little something every First Monday. I find it gives me something to look forward to at the start of the month, which is usually bogged down by the grown-up necessity of paying bills.

Love this idea? Be sure to spread the word so more people will jump on it!

Naked, Nude, Neutral, Naaaaah

Ok, I'm just going to get this off my chest: I'm really bored and maybe even a little frustrated by the current trend towards neutral and naked makeups. I mean, Urban Decay, a company which was founded to provide high-quality cosmetics in crazy colors, built their whole Spring launch around their Naked line. How boring!

Don't get me wrong, I know that neutral colors have their place. I've even been buying and working with them myself, both for day wear and for the possibility of having a nice, neutral smokey eye to go with some costumes where I want a more sophisticated look. But really, how many beige palettes does one need? How many sheer nude lip glosses can one woman feasibly use? How many does one company need to make when swatches show that they look almost completely identical when worn?

And it's not just Urban Decay. It seems like nearly every company has to have their own answer to the Naked palette, and that's fine if you have a certain sense of brand loyalty or really prefer a certain eye shadow formula or something. But then I see Zoya nail polish do an entire line of pale, neutral pinks instead of the awesome greens and metallics I love to buy from them, and I start to worry. Is this the way of the future? Is the pendulum going to swing back towards a more natural look in cosmetics? Is it going to be difficult for me to find green nail polish and ridiculous sparkly glitter eyeliner and incredibly saturated eye shadow colors? Will I have to carefully hoard my current products?

I'm hoping that this is just a blip as Urban Decay looks to diversify their product line and reach a broader audience and all of their competitors release similar products to try to get a piece of the pie, and that soon they'll go back to focusing on the sort of things I really like... but I might have to go hug my old school purple velvet palette until I feel better.

(Product reviews return next week)

I don't believe in fate

Dinosaur Comics (c) 2014 Ryan North

If you have this idea of me as a sophisticated woman of high-brow tastes, you should probably stop reading now because today's blog post was inspired by Dinosaur Comics and Cracked.com. But I promise, I'm going to talk about some deep, serious stuff!

I woke up today and as usual, I read through my web comics, and I thought today's Dinosaur Comics (shown above) was really funny and to the point. Then later I was reading The 5 Most Useless Pieces of Advice Everyone Gives and I was nodding right along with it when I read this really poignant quote near the end: "But as far as I can tell, success is heavily based on luck -- it's just that long hours earn you more chances to get lucky. The more stuff you do, the more people you meet and impress, the more chances for opportunity to come your way."

It's strange when great life advice comes from an internet humor site, but there you have it. So often in artistic fields like dance, writing and music you'll hear people grumbling about how it's all about who you know, or being in the right place at the right time... but here's the thing. Everyone has the chance to meet the right people, or be in the right place. And the harder you work, the more chances you have.

I don't believe in fate. I don't believe that when I am ready to start dancing professionally, the perfect gigs will just land in my lap. I believe that sometimes, things will fall together perfectly, and other times I'll work really hard to chase something only to have it end in disaster, and most of the time, things will fall somewhere in between. Everything that has happened to me so far has lead me to feel that way. A few examples:

-Living in Tucson doesn't afford me as many great dance opportunities as some larger cities with a more vibrant community would have, but I did luck out by having two good years of study with Jolie Roberson right when I was ready to really dig deeper into my dance, and she helped me with a lot of my dance problems and has given me the tools to keep growing as a dancer.

-I've also had the opportunity to dance with a great troupe, which has helped me to learn how to work well with others, how to learn choreography, how to work within costuming guidelines, and so much more. Plus I've made some lovely friends.

-But I've also been in some troupes that didn't work out for me at all, and while some might chalk it up as a "learning experience", sometimes I think it would be nice to have put that time and money into something else. The same can be said of some classes and workshops I've taken.

-I've had people offer me performance opportunities that I had to refer to other dancers because I wasn't ready for them yet.

-I've had performance opportunities that seemed like they were going to be awesome, only to have them completely dry up or turn out to not be very good at all.

So all of this, along with things in my personal life and my general outlook on life, has lead me to feel that things don't happen for a reason, they just happen and we can decide how to react to them and what to do about them.

And so what about the correlation between luck and work? Well, I've already seen that "luck" sometimes brings dance opportunities that your way, whether you're ready for them or not. The harder you work at dance, the more likely you are to be able to say "Yes, I am ready to dance at this high-profile event and serve as an awesome example of my local bellydance community." 

But it's not just about training hard. It's about attending classes, workshops, and shows and making a good impression on the other people there. It's about attending non-bellydance art events around town and forging connections in your local art and entertainment scene. It's about being pleasant and outgoing in your community as a whole, so that when that local business owner finds out you're a bellydancer, they hire you for their big customer appreciation party. It's about networking on-line with your fellow dancers, so that when you decide to go on a cross-country bellydance jaunt, your internet friends invite you to teach and perform in their town. It's about building a good website, blog, Facebook page, what have you so that potential clients can find you with a Google search and see what a professional presence you have on-line.

The more you put yourself out there, the more chances you have to know the right people, or to be in the right place at the right time (keeping in mind that sometimes a "place" isn't a physical location, but a Dance Opportunities FB group or a high ranking on Google). If you just sit back and wait for fate to drop something in your lap, you're probably going to start second-guessing whether the universe wants you to dance. But the universe doesn't care, so don't let it control your life. If you want to be a dancer, or a writer, or a stand-up comedian, or whatever, go out there and do the work!

It's time for another talk about bras

Let's talk about bras, shall we? Over a year ago I wrote this post about my love-hate relationship with bras. But I'm not here today to discuss whether or not bras should remain part of the bellydance costuming wardrobe (I have a feeling they're hear to stay, you can't fight decades of tradition), but instead to talk about how if you're going to do something, you should do it right.

I spend a lot of time on Pinterest and Etsy, and that means I have seen a lot of downright lousy bellydance bras up for sale. I'm willing to forgive a newbie for performing in a crappy-looking bra, because we all had to start somewhere and heavens know my first two tribal bras were nothing to be proud of but at the time I thought they were amazing. But if you're going to try to sell your handiwork, you should take the time and effort to make sure that you're offering up a good product. Here's a list of DOs and DON'Ts:

-DO use a good bra with sturdy, structured cups.

-DON'T use a cheap, floppy bra or a bathing suit top.

-DO replace the existing straps with something attractive, strong and adjustable.

-DON'T leave the original straps in place. Note: If you only have photos of the front of the bra, with the straps tucked inside the cups, I'm going to automatically assume that you're doing this to hide the fact that you used the original straps and didn't cover the back strap.

-DON'T use something flimsy for the straps like thin ribbon, shoe laces or puny elastic.

-DO cover the bra with beautiful fabrics like stretch velvet, embroidered brocades and vintage assuit.

-DON'T cover the bra with t-shirt material or that really cheap, nasty panne velvet from JoAnn's.

-DO drape the fabric nicely or get really professional and actually do it right by cutting out a proper pattern for covering a bra.

-DON'T just drape it every-which way, with weird darts at random places.

-DO embellish it with an exciting variety of real coins, vintage lace, cool charms, textured chains and other awesome finds.

-DON'T use nothing but beads and charms from Michael's. Sure, every now and then you can sneak in a cool piece you found at the craft store, but you've got to have some high-quality things around it.

-DON'T use those cheap Mardi Gras beads. Gross.

-DON'T make embellishments that look like nipples.

-DO provide accurate sizing information.

-DO line it, preferably with something that can be easily removed and replaced when it gets gross.

-DON'T glue everything together. Use a needle and thread like a grown-up seamstress.

-DON'T make the mistake of thinking you can use your sewing machine.

Are there any points you'd like to add to this list? Any exceptions you think should be made?

A Raging Case of the Wants

I want this vest by Kathleen Crowley, among other things. Lots of other things.

Here's a normal exchange between my husband and I while running errands:

Me: "Anyplace else we should go while we're out?"

Him: "No, there's nothing I really need or want."

I just don't understand that. I mean yeah, my needs are pretty well-met, I have everything necessary to lead a cozy life and all I have to do is go out to replace things as they get used up or worn out. But wants? Man oh man, there's always something I want. Many things that I want, actually.

That vest up there is just one piece of costuming that I want. Never mind that most of my performances are with Fire & Gold Bellydance, so I have to wear my troupe costumes. There's always a new pair of dance pants or a new skirt catching my eye, causing me to daydream about what I would wear it with. Sometimes it wouldn't even go with anything I already have.

And then there's makeup. I can't go into Sephora or Ulta without seeing some new palette or color of lip tar that I want. Even walking by the cosmetics department at Target causes me to hone in on new colors of nail polish, despite the fact that I haven't even worn most of the colors I already have.

Supplies? Well, let's see, I've been doing beadwork for over 15 years. I have a decade and a half worth of indulgences piled up in my collection, beads I HAD to have and still haven't figured out a use for. Before I even started sewing, I'd go out for fabric to cover a bra and buy things for future sewing projects.

Jewelry is a big downfall. If I added up all the money I spent on cheap bangles, rings and earrings in my first couple of years as a dancer, it would definitely be enough to have purchased a couple of high-quality pieces instead. Now most of it goes unworn because it looks tawdry against my more professional costumes.

Lately I've been trying to keep myself under control. No more nail polish until I throw out some of my old stuff. No cheap jewelry unless it's something I'll actually wear in normal life. No beads until gem show in February. No fabric unless I need it for a troupe costume. But that doesn't stop me from wanting. And it doesn't stop me from buying things that aren't on the forbidden list (hello, new eye palettes and sweaters).

I'm not greedy, by the way. My list of wants includes things that I want to buy for other people. I always see things and think "Oh, that would be perfect for so-and-so." I start bookmarking things well in advance of birthdays and holidays, so that when the time comes I can choose between them and then use the rest as recommendations for people who come to me for ideas.

How about you? Are you content with what you have, or do you have an Etsy favorites list a mile long, just waiting for the day you win the lottery?

My Dance History

Performing an ITS sword dance with former classmates. Also, proof I wear colors other than green.

 If you've been around my blog for a while, or you've read up on my history at all, or you even read yesterday's blog post, you know that I danced ITS for a couple of years. I studied and performed primarily under Anaya Tribal, but also here in Tucson as part of the Tucson Tribal Bellydance Collective (shown above).

I got my start in bellydance taking a few private home lessons from a friend who used to be part of a tribal improv troupe. She taught me some basics before becoming too busy to keep trading lessons with me (I was teaching her jewelry making), but I continued on my own at home, working with what she showed me and trying things that I saw in videos. After a couple years I got bored dancing alone at home and thought it would be fun to be in a troupe like my friend talked about, so I needed to take classes and find friends to dance with.

My search eventually lead me to Plaza de Anaya in Tempe -- Ok, I got a coupon from the Ren Faire and decided to take a free class. After trying a class and seeing how little I really knew, I was hooked and wanted to learn it all. I decided to drive up to Tempe every week (3+ hour round trip) to study with Anaya Tribal.

I spent a couple of years dancing ITS and I loved it. I enjoyed the follow-the-leader mentality, I liked that everyone got a chance to be the leader, I loved spinning around in a 25 yard skirt and feeling like a princess. I went every week unless I was sick or out of town, I did my homework, I took whatever workshops my teachers recommended. We had student recitals twice a year where I got to dance with my classmates. What a blast!

Although I loved dancing ITS in a group, I also did some solos here in Tucson since I didn't have a group to dance with. Although I never really thought about it specifically, I think my ideal situation would have been performing long shows with an ITS group where we did group improv and had some featured soloists (one of whom would be me, of course). I also wanted to teach bellydance someday.

I took workshops in various other styles but didn't absorb a lot of it, for two obvious reasons: one was that I took workshops willy-nilly without really knowing if they were going to give me what I needed at that stage in my dance life, and two was that I really only knew how to dance ITS, so a lot of what was being covered in the workshops was not really accessible to me.

I continued to love ITS, and I even began taking extra ITS classes with Fonda in Tucson, but I started to wish I could study more tribal fusion. No one was really teaching what I wanted to learn in Tucson, I couldn't go to Tempe twice a week to study with Mia Donna, and I didn't want to give up Anaya Tribal. In fact, I joined their student troupe -and- the Tucson Tribal Collective.

Then Jolie moved to town. She was only going to be here for about 6 months, but she was going to teach classes for that time and I figured well, I had better learn everything I can from her during that time, so I bought an unlimited class card and added her classes to my rotation. If I remember correctly, that meant I was dancing with Jolie Mon and Tues, Fonda on Weds, Anaya on Thurs, and then I had troupe practice for Anaya and/or TTC on at least every other Sunday. I was dancing a lot, and I loved/hated it. I love to dance but my inner introvert wanted more time at home to bead in front of the TV.

When Jolie decided to stay in Tucson and invited me to join the student troupe she was forming, I had to do some hard thinking. I was starting to get burnt out on driving to Tempe 6 times a month, and I was starting to think about my future as a dancer. I realized that my end goal was to be a tribal fusion soloist, and that dancing ITS wasn't helping me towards that goal. I left Anaya Tribe, and eventually also the Collective, and focused on tribal fusion.

During this time, I was also really discovering my limitations. Start a move on the left foot? Nope. Do an undulation without a floreo? Nonsense. Chaine turns? I think not. My body did not like stepping outside of the comfort zone that I had built for it. ITS had such specific ways of doing things, to make sure everyone looked the same while dancing together, which is great for ITS and lousy for trying to learn anything else. Two years after starting tribal fusion with Jolie, I am still struggling with habits that I developed as an ITS dancer (for instance, my husband likes to tease me because I still look for a leader to follow during choreographies that I could do in my sleep).

I don't regret the time that I spent learning ITS. It did a lot to build my confidence, helped me develop a sense of rhythm, taught me to play the zills, and introduced me to some great friends. But if I had to do it over again, knowing then what I know now, I would have made more of an effort to practice general dance skills alongside my ITS moves. I would have forced myself to do everything on the left as well as the right, and I would have played with layering and other challenging concepts at home. I spend a lot of my time now feeling like I am making up for lost time, time that I could have spent developing myself as a dancer, rather than just as an ITS dancer.

Ultimately, this is why I disagree with the assertion that one NEEDS a foundation in some form of tribal group improv to be a tribal fusion dancer. Most of what I learned in ITS classes has not served me in tribal fusion. I could have just as easily learned my Basic Egyptian, Arabic, Turkish, 3/4 Shimmy and more from a tribal fusion teacher, and been developing skills as a soloist as well.

ATS and Tribal Fusion

To continue on the theme from last week's post "There is no high council of tribal fusion" I'd like to talk about why I don't feel you need to learn ATS (American Trobal Style), ITS (Improvisational Tribal Style) or SGI (Spontaneous Group Improvisation) to become a tribal fusion bellydancer.

Before I get into the nitty-gritty of the post, let me clarify: I love watching ATS, ITS, and SGI. A highly-polished troupe performing these styles of dance presents a really exciting performance. I especially love advanced ATS troupes specifically for their dynamic formation changes which turn the dancers into a living kaleidoscope. I also think that these styles can be a very good introduction to bellydance for those who are intimidated by dance and performing, as the "follow the leader" nature means you don't have to stress about remembering a group choreography or carrying an entire performance as a soloist. I spent a couple years learning and dancing ITS with Anaya Tribal in Tempe and I enjoyed my time with them.

That said, although tribal fusion evolved from ATS/ITS/SGI roots, it is now its own distinct dance. I feel like if you want to be a tribal fusion dancer, whether as a soloist or as part of a troupe, you will be best served by finding a really good tribal fusion teacher who will teach you how to dance the style you want to dance. A good teacher will teach you the basic tribal moves taken from ATS/ITS/SGI, such as Basic Egyptian, Arabic, Maya, Snake Arms, etc, but they will also teach you the skills that set tribal fusion apart from the dances it evolved from.

Taking an ATS/ITS/SGI class will teach you those basics, too, but it will also teach you a lot of things that you will not need in tribal fusion, and some that will actively hinder your growth as a tribal fusion dancer. These skills include:

-Cues (not needed in tribal fusion)

-Follow the Leader (also not needed)

-Combinations (some people do use combos in tribal fusion)

-Formations and Lead Changes (again, some basic knowledge of formations can be good when dancing with a troupe, but lead changes are not needed)

-Very specific ways of pairing movements in different parts of the body (ie, we always use these arms with a maya)

-A specific movement vocabulary which is designed to be assembled into group improv on the fly, and which will usually include a set of rules (ie, we always do this move twice, this move can be done in 1/2 and 1/4 turns but that other one only has a full turn version).

-Dancing as a group (this can be helpful for tribal fusion troupes, but not for the soloist)

Studying with a well-trained tribal fusion teacher will give you the following skills that are not usually covered in ATS/etc classes:

-Traveling movements. While some group improv formats have combos that involve traveling, it is not as involved as movement can be in tribal fusion, especially as a soloist who needs to fill a whole stage.

-Complicated layering. You will learn exciting, sometimes brain-numbingly-difficult combinations of layers, which will make you a versatile dancer and able to more quickly pick up new layering tricks in workshops.

-A wide variety of movements, drawn not only from ATS/ITS/SGI roots but also from traditional bellydance, ballet, jazz, hip-hop, lyrical, Latin, African and other dance styles, depending on your teacher's background and tastes.

-Musicality. Although some very experienced and talented ATS/ITS/SGI groups show amazing musicality, for the most part these styles accompany the music rather than interpreting it. Because the tribal fusion vocabulary is less specific and involves either working as a soloist or as part of a choreographed movement, there is more opportunity to really interpret the music at even a beginner level.

None of this is to suggest that either of these styles is better or worse than the other. They are both beautiful, valid dance forms that people are attracted to for different reasons. Some people enjoy performing both, and in fact there are many troupes whose performances contain a mixture of group improvisation, choreographed tribal fusion group pieces, and solo numbers which may be improv or choreo.

In closing, I would like to say that dancers who chose to solely pursue tribal fusion bellydance should at least educate themselves on the influence of ATS and major ITS and SGI groups on the growth of tribal fusion. You don't need to take an ATS class, but you should definitely sit down at your computer and watch some Fat Chance Bellydance on YouTube, read up on the evolution of tribal fusion, and be aware of the roots of the dance you're performing so that when you are asked about it by the general public, you can give an educated and enlightening response.

Come back tomorrow to read about my specific experience with being an ITS dancer who switched to tribal fusion.

There is no high council of tribal fusion.

So, the wonderful thing about the internet is that things that were posted years ago will suddenly and randomly make a comeback, as one person comes across it again and posts it, and then other people agree with it so they post it... That's happening right now with a post someone wrote quite some time ago about the state of tribal fusion. To say that I disagree with that particular blog post would be a bit of an understatement. It annoyed me enough that I felt I had to get something off of my chest:

There is no high council of tribal fusion.

No one gets to tell you what can and can't be done in tribal fusion, or who you have to study with or how you have to dance. No one gets to dictate your facial expression or what moves you're allowed to use. No one gets to tell you that you aren't tribal enough. There is not a secret cabal of bellydancers who have codified exactly what percentage of your movement must have originated from bellydance, and which styles you're allowed to fuse, and how many sparkles your costume may have.

Are there rules to tribal fusion bellydance? Of course there are, but they're the same kind of rules that would apply to any dance form. Off the top of my head, they include:

-Study with the best teacher(s) you can. Depending on where you're located, that might be an ATS, ITS, Tribal Fusion, AmCab, Egyptian, Turkish or just general bellydance skills teacher. If there is not a good tribal fusion teacher in your area, you'll have to use videos to take the basics you're learning and modify them to fit the aesthetic you prefer. If you have the opportunity and money to study with multiple teachers in different bellydance styles, that's even better, although you may not want to do that right away as a beginner as it can get confusing. But if you learn multiple styles, you get different approaches to the same moves, some different moves, different ways to interpret the music, etc etc, and you can combine them to create your own personal style that works well in your body (obviously that only applies to soloists, in a troupe you'll want to do your best to do the moves exactly how your director does them).

-Study the kind of dance you would like to add to your tribal fusion. If you study with a tribal fusion teacher, you'll probably get a little bit of ballet, jazz, hip-hop or maybe Latin dance, depending on your teacher's tastes and backgrounds. But once you know what other non-Middle Eastern elements you prefer in your fusion, it's good to take classes specifically for those styles. For instance, I love the extensions and turns from ballet, so I take ballet classes. I also take Femme Cardio because it's a good workout, makes me think on my feet, and gives me some different movement to try to absorb.

-Practice hard. Practice the things that you're bad at so you become good at them. Practice the things you're good at so you become amazing at them. Practice things that feel weird. Drill moves. Put on random music and do improv. Give yourself emotional and artistic challenges. Master some props. Practice your costuming and makeup skills, too.

-Make good choices. Choose music and movement that is appropriate for the venue. Choose a costume that is appropriate for the mood of the piece and the style of movement you're going to be doing (no floorwork in delicately beaded vintage skirts!). Early on in your performance career, while you're still developing your style and your sense of what is appropriate, you may want to work with a mentor who will help guide you until these things become second nature.

-Dance with integrity. As long as you are making good choices based on your knowledge and capabilities (ie, fusing the bellydance you've been studying diligently and the jazz you've been studying diligently, instead of saying "I want to do a belly-tango fusion tomorrow so I'll just watch a few tango performances tonight, no big deal") and you dance the very best you can, and interpret the emotions of the song you're dancing to, you'll be fine.

I think it's important for us to remember that tribal fusion bellydance is a very young artform. There's going to be a lot of experimenting, and there may be offshoots that thrive and become their own style, and offshoots that last only a year or two and prove to just be a passing fad. It will probably be decades until it settles into a semi-permanent form with a specific style of costuming and a core vocabulary of moves, and even then there will be differences, just as traditional bellydance isn't just one thing, but encompasses folkloric dance and fauxloric dance (inspired by traditional dances but completely made up or given some theatrical spin), and Egyptian, and Turkish, and Lebanese, and AmCab, and probably a few others I'm not listing. So just chill out. Stop trying to apply your rules to it, sit back, and let it evolve. You don't have to enjoy everything that you see, and sometimes you will see some objectively bad dance performed by people who rushed to the stage without taking the time to really develop your skills. But no one is the one high judge of what counts as tribal fusion.

I'd like to thank Gothic Charm School for inspiring me with the concept of the Secret Cabal of ElderGoths. The Lady of the Manners has such a way with words!

Things I learned in Vegas

Professional photos coming soon, for now you have to settle for my pre-show selfie.

 

I am back from Vegas and hopefully back to a normal blogging schedule! I'll be writing about the Las Vegas Bellydance Intensive in a couple of places, so to save myself from repeating myself too much, here on my personal blog I'll share some helpful tips for surviving in Vegas, some LVBDI-specific and some not:

 

1. Don't drive up to Vegas on the same day that you are performing. I was stiff and sore and it took a lot of makeup to cover up the marks that my sunglasses left on my nose. Plus I was stressed about getting checked in and touched up and changed into my costume on time!

 

2. Hotels in Vegas are huge mazes, as are their parking garages. Leave yourself plenty of time to get to wherever you are going.

 

3. If at all possible, go off the Strip to eat. The food will be more affordable, tastier, and you will have a shorter wait time and better service.

 

4. If you have to go someplace off the Strip (for instance, over to Target to buy some things you forgot to pack), go as early in the day as you can, because there will be almost no traffic and you'll find a better parking spot in the Flamingo's garage when you come back.

 

5. If you're a tea addict, pack your own electric kettle, tea and mug. You'll save a ton of time and money by not having to get your fix from the coffee shop in the hotel. Bonus tip: You can also bring Cup o Noodle or some other "just add hot water" soup options for quick lunches. Hey, it's important to save money to shop, gamble, or go to an expensive buffet.

 

6. Go to the evening pro shows at LVBDI! Yeah, the tickets were $30 each this year and I'm guessing they'll be around the same next year, but the shows feature a lot of top-notch talent and are held in a beautiful theater with great sound and lighting and stadium seating so everyone gets a good view. And where is this theater? IN THE LIBRARY! Way to go Vegas, putting your tax money to good use!

 

7. Can't afford those show tickets, or the workshops you want to take? Volunteer! I did a volunteer shift at the merchandise booth on Saturday afternoon. It was really easy! I sold things to people, but mostly I told people where the bathroom was, or sent them down to Information or Registration if they wanted to swap workshops or buy tickets or register for 2014 or whatever. You can also volunteer to be a workshop helper and check people in and help the instructor with the sound system and whatever else they need, and you get to be in that workshop for FREE. Plus volunteering is a nice way to meet people.

 

8. If you can wake up early in the morning, it's totally worth it to take a workshop at 8:30 on Sunday morning. I found I was waking up early, so I signed up for one while I was there, and since I was the first person to show up, I was able to actually sit and chat with the instructor (Paige Lawrence) for a few minutes. Then we had a small group, which made for a really intimate experience where everyone got to interact, ask any questions they had, and discuss the exercises we were doing.

 

9. Vegas apparently exists in some sort of timewarp to the 1960s where men think it is OK to call a woman "baby" and "hun" and waiters think it is ok to snuggle up to you when taking your order. And that's not even getting into the bro-dudes. Make sure you have someone you can vent to when you get hit by a wave of sexism.

 

10. Don't over-indulge! Be mindful of any morning workshops or performance slots you have, and act accordingly. It's tempting to stay out late drinking and partying, but then you miss out on the LVBDI experience because you got caught up in the standard Vegas experience! 

Annoying Dance Sayings Pt 1

I found a meme picture with a cute dog to soften my annoyance.

 

We've all seen and heard this one a lot, right? It's sometimes attached to a few other things, like living like there's no tomorrow and loving like you've never been hurt, etc etc. This can all be great and inspiring for normal life, but as a dancer I get so sick of seeing "Dance like nobody's watching."

 

Now don't get me wrong. There are times when it IS appropriate to dance like no one's watching. They include:

 

1. When you're a newbie in class and you're super nervous and you have to just tell yourself no one else is watching you.

 

2. When you have a new song you want to dance to, and you want to just FEEL it and see what movements work with it, before sitting down to really formalize your choreography or structured improv.

 

3. When you've got some emotions you need to work out, and you just turn on some music and dance so freakin' hard until you've danced it all out.

 

4. When you're at a party or a club and you want to just get down (but even then you have to be careful, because if you've told people you're a bellydancer, you don't want them to say "Oh, she claims she's a dancer but did you see what she was doing with her arms at Aunt Jane's wedding?").

 

However, there is a place where you should not "dance like no one's watching" and that is on stage. Once you've made the decision to be a performer, whether as an eternal amateur or a someday pro, you have made a commitment to always be "on" when you're dancing for other people. You've chosen to perform, so that means you have to perform. That means acknowledging the audience. That means that if you DON'T acknowledge the audience, it's because of a deliberate artistic choice*, not because you just felt like dancing for yourself. That means that if you're terrified of making real eye contact with the audience, you learn the tricks of faking eye contact.

If you get up on stage and dance like nobody's watching, you'll likely find that they aren't watching. Because if you don't dance for the audience, then they don't feel engaged. Likewise, if you're not dancing for the audience, you're probably not thinking about proper angles, and taking up space, and moving around the room/stage so that everyone gets a chance to see you in your full glory.

When you dance like nobody's watching, you do both yourself and the audience a great disservice. So if you've decided to dance for other people, then dance for other people! Acknowledge the audience. Share with them. To sum up the concept that I've heard from numerous great teachers, your dance doesn't have to shout "look at me!" but it should say "Hey, I know you're watching."

*Also if you're presenting a form of spiritual dance that isn't normally a performance art, and acknowledging the audience would be inauthentic, you should obviously make the authentic choice.

The Perfectionism Spectrum

Last week I posted this quote on my Facebook fan page to spark some discussion: "Perfection is an interesting idea, but I don't think it should have a place of honor in the creative process." – Sasha Soukup


I was surprised to find that a lot of people agreed with Soukup, because I actually strongly disagree. I have perfectionist tendencies, not to the point of OCD, but I always strive to be as close to perfect as I can. This ethic leads to me practicing a lot, taking extra lessons, getting professional help to learn about makeup and costuming, reading up on dance etiquette and so much more. I realized that my opinion on perfection was more than I could put in a Facebook comment and I needed to make a blog post about it.


As I was mulling over the topic, I came up with the idea of the Perfectionism Spectrum. I don't feel like the quest for perfection is an all or nothing deal. I think that there's a very wide range and that most people fall somewhere in the middle rather than to one extreme or the other. 

At the lowest end is what I would call the "Eh, Good Enough!" people. These are the sort of people who shrug off problems with their work by saying "The audience will never know the difference" or "It's handmade it's supposed to have flaws!" or "You're not paying me enough for me to work harder on this." Now, there are times when it's valid to say any of these. Sometimes there are problems that are beyond your control and you need to just accept them. But it is not cool to have this attitude all the time and use it to slack off on things like practicing hard when you have a show coming up, or trimming all the threads on your new costume or behaving professionally at a gig. I think you can tell that I don't have a lot of patience for this sort of person.


At the highest end of the spectrum are the "It's Never Good Enough!" people. These are the sort of people who create beautiful work but never share it with the world because it's not perfect yet. This is the author who constantly revises their first chapter and never moves on in the story, the dancer who comes to class every week and practices hard but never performs because she doesn't dance like a superstar yet, the painter who doesn't think his work is worthy of hanging in a gallery. I feel bad for these people because they have something beautiful but they never think it's good enough to share with the world.


I try to maintain a happy relationship with perfection. I strive for it, knowing that it is impossible to be perfect all the time. However, I do think that through hard work, it's possible to achieve moments of perfection. Surely as a dancer you've felt it, when you do exactly the right move to the very best of your abilities, and you hit the note right where you wanted to, and you caught the audience's eye, and you were feeling the music so hard, and it was.... perfect. I know that I will never have a performance that is a string of perfect moments. But I do know that I can achieve perfect moments, and if I have just one or two in a solo and the rest of the time I am doing really well, then the over-all impression is going to be that I did an amazing job.


So yes, I do think that perfection should have a place of honor in the creative process. Why wouldn't I want to strive for a perfect 3/4 shimmy or Arabesque? Why wouldn't I want to know my song inside and out so that I can hit the perfect accents and truly feel the music? I think that it is possible to have a healthy approach to perfection, and that artists in any medium can strive for perfect moments in their work.

Please feel free to share your opinion in my comments section, I enjoy a lively discussion!

Wait, that's not my music!

 

I mentioned briefly on Monday that there were some sound system problems at Saturday's show. This glitch led to a couple of dancers swapping songs, and another dancer having to provide her back-up copy. It left me thinking about what a dancer should do when she steps on stage and the wrong music starts.

1. Keep calm! No matter what sort of music problem you have (wrong music, sound system goes out mid-performance, CD starts skipping), put on your professional face and deal with it in the best way possible.

2. You can dance to whatever is playing, but there can be a couple of pitfalls in this. Obviously, if you're now performing to someone else's music, that means she then has to decide whether to dance to your music (which she might not like), or whether she wants to dance to her song and risk the audience being bored. Also, you might find yourself dancing to something that totally doesn't work with your costume, your prop, or your dance style.

3. Be flexible! In a perfect world, when there's a music problem you'll have a backup and everything will be fine. But maybe you forgot your backup, or the sound system doesn't want to play it. When that happens, be willing to dance to something else. This is why it's good to build strong improv skills!

4. That said, it's OK to insist on dancing to your song if it's at all possible. Whether you do improv or choreography, chances are that in the weeks leading up to the show you've been practicing this piece very hard. You've chosen your costume to match the mood of the music. You did your hair and makeup to fit the personality you want to express. Maybe you're using a prop and there's moments in the music where you can show off the really cool new tricks you've been working on. There is nothing wrong with wanting to do what you had planned to do, and you shouldn't feel bad about saying "No thank you, I don't want to dance to this other song, please try to play my back-up copy."

And now, a few ways to avoid musical pitfalls:

• Did I mention that you should always have a backup? Maybe two? I try to remember to bring my iPod to every gig, and sometimes I'll also have an extra CD copy. Or two.
• Remember to check your music before you leave for the gig. Double-check that the CD burned properly. Edited to add: A clever reader pointed out that you should not just test it in your computer, but in the least-reliable CD player you have access to, because if it will play in that, it will play at the show.
• Always pay attention to the music requirements for a gig. I know we'd all prefer to just be able to send in an mp3 and be done with it, but some gigs want the music on CD, and may even want a CD with that song and that song only on it.
• When sending digital music, make sure that it's in a format they can actually play. You don't want to accidentally send a song that can only be played on your iTunes, for instance.
•  Always. Have. A. Backup. But maybe also have a backup plan. For instance, if someone else is dancing to your song, have a different song you can perform to instead.

Why Open Stage?

I spent MINUTES working on this graphic, you bet I'm going to use it more than once!

Tomorrow is our monthly Open Stage at Sky Bar here in Tucson. Yep, we're having Open Stage even on 4th of July, because we like routine.

It's my opinion that every decent-sized dance community should have a regularly occurring open stage or hafla, whether it's monthly, every other month or quarterly. And let me tell you why: a dancer who has been bitten by the performance bug and has no appropriate performance outlets will start to make questionable decisions. We all know the logic: "I really need more practice performing so I'll go see if the manager at Chateau de Kebab will let me perform for free just for the experience" or "Sure I'll dance at your event, but since I'm just a student you only have to pay me $10."

The truth is, once a dancer has decided that she loves to perform, those once or twice a year student recitals don't cut it, especially for the dancer who wants to be a soloist but isn't given the opportunity to at recitals (because if everyone got to solo the recital would be 5 hours long!). If she hasn't been told about proper behavior and undercutting, she'll naturally start to have these thoughts (I know, because I did), and even if she has been told she might try to rationalize it by saying "Oh, it's OK because they don't normally have dancers so I'm not taking work from anyone..." etc etc etc.

Even if a dancer isn't directly taking work from someone, if she goes out performing on her own before she's ready, she can make a lot of mistake, get taken advantage of, and make the dance look bad. If the audience at Chateau de Kebab doesn't know that they're watching a student, they're going to think that they're watching a pro and they're not going to be impressed. They're not going to want to hire a bellydancer for their next big party.

Open stage and all-level haflas give those eager students an appropriate place to get their dance fix. And when the emcee says "Jill is a student who has been dancing for six months" and "Jane is a professional dancer with ten years of training" the audience can see the difference. They can see that Jill loves what she does but needs more work, and that Jane is a polished performer who would be ideal to dance at their company's New Year's Eve Soiree. Jill gets to dance, Jane gets to advertise, the audience gets to see what the city has to offer by way of dance (because in my perfect world, Open Stage spans the entire community, and tribal, Egyptian, and AmCab dancers perform, maybe with the occasional guest who does hula or tango or hip hop). Everybody wins at Open Stage!

A Feminist Message from Liora K and Sophia Ravenna

While I was at Liora K Photography's studio on Saturday she asked if I would like to pose for a feminist photo too, and I said yes! It was something I'd wanted to do for a while, because I really love what she's doing, but I also wasn't sure what I wanted to say. She'd already covered a lot of my hot-button issues, but she came up with a new twist for me. Hooray! Here's what she said about it on her Facebook page:

Wait, aren't all the feminist photos naked?

Not this one. Sophia Ravenna is a good friend and talented dancer. I used to dance with her in Skirt Full of Fire Dance Company and Fire & Gold Belly Dance. As a bellydancer, she and her peers frequently have to correct the misconception that during their performances, key parts of their costumes will be removed, and that this is done for the purpose of pleasing an adult male audience.

Stripping and Burlesque are amazing forms of performance. It's entirely possible that in those acts, performers may draw on bellydance moves. Fusion dance is amazing, and it's great to watch!

This should not give anyone permission though, to assume that they have the right to see a performer take their clothes off, or ask a performer at an event advertised as "Bellydance" if they will take their clothes off while they perform. It's disrespectful to their craft, and can make performers worried for their personal safety.

Admire the hard work that goes into costumes - many are made by the dancers themselves! Ask questions about the craft, learn, educate yourself. Enjoy the performance! But never assume, and never approach, that a dance is always done to titillate.

#teardownthepatriarchy

Even with that comment in the middle about stripping and burlesque being amazing, at least one person still thought we were trying to slut-shame strippers, which was absolutely not our aim, so I'd like to reiterate: I am 100% cool with stripping, burlesque, and pole. I know lots of great ladies who perform in those styles and I love what they do. But it is not what I do, anymore than I do tap, line dancing or traditional Israeli folk dance. I am a belly dancer and I do belly dance, which happens to not involve taking my clothes off. I don't leave my clothes on because I think it's wrong for other women to take theirs off, I leave them on because they are part of my dance. I am not ashamed of my body, but I am proud of my handmade velvet bra adorned with Afghani coins and Turkoman buttons.

The important thing is, a woman should never be asked or told to take her clothes off just because she is dancing. It is our choice whether or not we strip, not yours. Even in arts like burlesque and pole, there's no guarantee of a "reveal." Many pole performers choose to stay fully clothed. Many burlesque acts only do a partial reveal, or no reveal, instead focusing on a cheeky sense of humor. Even some performers who do strip may not do so at all events, if it's not appropriate for the audience or they just don't feel like it.

So in conclusion, the only people who I want to shame are the people who think they deserve more control over my body than I have. I won't take it off, and you just have to live with that.

It's important to be professional

Sometimes I can't find a picture to go with the topic of my opinion pieces, so I made my own. Graphic designer I am not.

It's important to always be professional. Note that I didn't say A professional; it is perfectly awesome to be an amateur dancer for your entire dance life. But even if you never want to dance for money, you should still always have a professional attitude. It makes everything flow more smoothly, from class to haflas to traveling to events with your fellow dancers.

One of the best things about a professional attitude is that unlike pro costuming, nice props, and weekend intensives, it doesn't cost you anything. The most inexperienced, broke dancer can still be the nicest, most helpful person backstage and thus make a better impression than the professional in a custom dress from Egypt and the diva attitude. When you respect your fellow dancers, event coordinators, helpers and audience, people remember you and want to work with you in the future. By the same token, getting snotty about some minor problem at a student showcase can leave a sour taste that will linger well into your career.

So how do you develop a professional attitude? The first step is to always be polite! Don't trash-talk your fellow performers (if you do need to complain about something, save it for later). Be gracious when giving and receiving compliments. Don't take up more than your fair share of the dressing room or mirror. Be willing to help your fellow dancers make last-minute costume adjustments. Thank people for allowing you to be part of their show, for dancing with you, for taking pictures, for coming to the show, whatever. Smile, or maintain a pleasantly neutral face.

The second step is to always be reliable. Be the one who sends her music on time, shows up early, stays after to help, promotes the event, is willing to carpool, always comes to class, etc etc etc. When people see that you are dedicated and can be counted on, they tend to take notice of you.

The third step is to be positive. This was a struggle for me and still is on some days! Being positive means not complaining when something in class is difficult (or if you do complain, make it good-natured, "Oh, I'm going to feel this tomorrow! At least I burned off that pizza I ate for dinner!"). Being positive means that when you show up for a gig and there's only three people in the audience, you put as much energy into it as if there were three hundred. Being positive means that your social media presence is always upbeat, that you post nice comments on others' wall posts and YouTube videos. Being positive means that if you have a problem with a teacher, student, venue, event organizer or workshop instructor, you take it up with them privately rather than airing it on Facebook.

The fourth step is treating every gig like a professional gig. No more "Oh, it's just a student hafla, I'll just wear these old things and not bother with lipstick." You do full hair and makeup for every show, and you wear the nicest costume possible within your budget. And when you step out onto the stage (which is actually just a little empty spot in the dining area of a coffee shop), you turn on your mega-watt personality and you dance with your whole heart and soul.

 

The fifth step is to own up to it when you fail. Everyone has off days. Sometimes you get some bad news right before a gig, or you just feel cruddy in class, or something else in life is bothering you and you slip up and say or do something mean. When this happens, apologize. Don't make a huge big deal that draws more attention to it, but contact the people affected and say "I realize that I was really off last night and I was pretty rude backstage. I feel awful about it and if I hurt or offend anyone, I sincerely apologize."

There are other steps you need to take when you want to be an actual professional, but I'm still learning those as I go so I don't feel qualified to give much advice on them. For now, start with the things in this post, and I have a feeling you'll find yourself very popular at your local events, and as a bonus, the more positive you act in class and on stage, the more positive you feel inside. And that comes from a card carrying sarcastic cynic, so you know I'm not just making it up.

We're not dumb, and we do have jobs

There's a blog post making the rounds about the "etiquette" of what to do when there's a surprise belly dancer at the restaurant you're eating at. I'm not going to link to it because I don't want to send more traffic to the author (because I know I have HORDES of loyal followers) and I don't want to give in to the urge to give a point-by-point refutation of what the post says. Besides, there is a chance that much of what she said was firmly tongue in cheek and she's not really that ignorant or mean (though there's an awful lot of judgmental language from her commenters, too). Most importantly, I do get tired of how every single time there's something that says something even slightly negative about bellydancers, people flip the heck out and inundate the person who wrote it with strongly worded letters, which just makes us all look way over-sensitive.

But there was one point I wanted to touch on, something that stood out to me more than the usual comparisons to strippers and the body-snarking. It was the fact that there were a couple of times where the writer seemed to suggest that the poor, poor dancer was only shaking her thing in public because clearly she had no other choice, no better career to fall back on, and maybe she should go to technical school.

The author is clearly wrong about two things: That most of us make money at this (hahahahahahaahHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA), and that we're doing it because we're incapable of doing anything else.

She clearly has never met a real bellydancer. Because I am a dancer, and I take classes with a lot of dancers, I've learned that we come from all walks of lives. There are mothers and single women, grad students and high school dropouts, massage therapists and school teachers. We get people who have never danced in their life, people whose only dance exposure is Zumba, and people who have been dancing forever. And yes, sometimes we also get people who teach pole, stripping, and burlesque, and there's nothing wrong with that either. We have neither graduated from nor failed at exotic dancing, any more than a tango dancer is a failed or graduated ballerina -- they are doing two different dance forms.

Oh, and did I mention the smart people with incredibly demanding careers? I know not one but many bellydancing astrophysicists. ASTROPHYSICISTS. They didn't go to a trade school for that. I know people with jobs so technical, I couldn't even explain them to you, but they also belly dance. I know bellydancing accountants, college professors, and physical therapists. I know dance teachers who can tell you every muscle that you're using and point it out to you on an anatomy chart. I know dancers with high-paying, high-stress jobs who bellydance as a way to relax and make friends after work. I know a dancer who pulls 24+ hour long shifts as an air medic.

But you see us doing a little shimmy at the Shawarma House and you assume that there's nothing inside our pretty little heads and it must be either this or starve. Well let me tell you something, if we didn't have dayjobs, we would starve. Most of us attend class several times a week to keep our skills fresh, take a few workshops a year to hone our skills even more and network with our fellow dancers, and then there's the constant investment in new costumes and props and makeup. The few dancers I know who make a living off of our artwork are those who also teach and/or do costuming. We don't dance because it's either dance or starve. We don't dance because McDonald's laid us off. We dance because we love to dance. And if you don't want to watch us, well, there's plenty of other restaurants where you can eat dinner. We'll be waiting for you if you ever change your mind.