“I myself am made entirely of flaws, stitched together with good intentions.” - Augusten Burroughs

When I was ten, I had the misfortune of growing too tall too fast, which meant I was a clomping, stomping, klutz-o-matic machine. My mom put me in tap dancing classes, which played to those strengths. I soon learned that different stomps made different sounds when wearing tap shoes. A simple flap-ball-change-brush-heel-toe-heel was the threshold into a world where my klutziness became a power – I reveled in all of the delicious sound I could make with my feet. It was something I really enjoyed and was a competitive tap dancer until I turned 15 and discovered track.

Dancing went on the backburner until I moved to Melbourne, Australia, and worked part-time for a dance studio to cover rent while going to graduate school. As I sat at the front counter, I heard music from seven different studios, and saw people go in and then come out of class with the hugest smiles on their faces. During those 2 years in Melbourne, I was able to learn a little French Modern Jive, or Ceroc.

Dancing again went on the backburner until I joined the Ke Kai O’Uhane Outrigger Canoeing Club and took hula lessons. Hula is pretty much showing your heart and soul through the movement of your body. There is no shyness or hiding - as a late bloomer, it was the best thing I could have done. Then one of my friends told me about dance classes in Pacific Grove where you could learn Tango, Foxtrot, Waltz, Cha-Cha, Rumba, etc., for only $10 a class. This led to the discovery of a larger dance community and the $5 dance nights at Chautauqua Hall in Pacific Grove every Saturday night.
 

I am the youngest person there by at least 30 years (as someone who has always felt more comfortable around people older than I am, this is pretty much perfect). The Big Band music echoes around the old hall and it is especially nice when they open the barn doors and the cool, sea breeze fills my lungs. Dancing with strangers isn’t without its quirks - there are those who serenade their partners perfectly word for word all of the Frank Sinatra songs during the Foxtrot dances, and there are a handful who bypass the conventional lead methods; they are the wrist-clutchers with the death-grip of Colossus who steer their partners around the dance floor against the flow of traffic. Leading should be a proposal, not a demand (much like steering a canoe – demanding always brings out the worst stubbornness in any vessel, human or not).

But just to be able to dance and learn something new with the familiar music I grew up with - that is what I like most. And sometimes I can feel the young klutzy me smiling inside, because my feet feel as light as my heart as I fly across the floor in a spinning waltz.