Blog post written by Hunter Amo
A student club flyer has been consuming my thoughts since the first day of August. Located in the Social Sciences building, posted on a little corkboard in the hallway of the second floor, there it was: The Swing Dancing Club.
“Wednesdays from 6-8 p.m. Every other Tuesday from 6-8 p.m. University Center, Kochoff Hall A. No experience or partner needed!”
It’s now October. I was a dancer for ten years during elementary, middle, and high school, but I had no idea what swing dancing was. To quell my curiosity, I stalked their Instagram page. I looked at videos and highlights of people my age gliding to music, dipping each other, and being lifted gracefully into the air—and thought, hey, I could do that.
I decided that I had stared at the flier for long enough, and that some part of me is obviously interested in going. Despite not needing a partner, I texted my best friend and fellow dancer, Amilia, to beg her to come with me. She agreed, in exchange for a chicken shawarma.
It was settled. My brain, for some reason, can’t tell the difference between being sentenced to death and attending a dance class, which Amilia and I had done every week for a decade. Regardless of our shared nerves, we both expressed enthusiasm at the prospect of moving our bodies to some music for the first time in a long time.
The days passed by quickly. It was four in the afternoon, and I brought the shawarma over to Amilia’s house. The weather was ominous. Rain poured heavily, and the skies remained gloomy all day. We discussed whether or not this was an omen or simply a Michigan Autumn. We held our hoods over our faces as we ran to my car, and the windshield wipers worked overtime as we made our way to the Renick University Center. We meandered our way to Kochoff Hall A and peeked our heads through the doorway. We had only brought a bottle of water and full black outfits meant to help us blend in—or so we thought.
Two people stood in the large, carpeted room. There was a projector on the far wall, with a playlist titled “Swing Dancing” ready to be unpaused. One was dressed in a Renaissance-style outfit, with a corset and frilly dress, and the other was in an Indiana Jones costume. Amilia and I exchanged worried glances, wondering if we had come at the wrong time.
We worried for nothing, however. They introduced themselves, and we exchanged pleasantries. “It’s costume night,” said Indiana Jones, who we learned was actually named Mark. “For Halloween. The instructors should be here shortly.”
During our small talk, the room started to fill. The club's President, Shivani, and another instructor, Jared, joined. Most people forwent shoes, which they explained helped them dance freely. A couple of them started warming up, swaying and twirling to no music at all, and yet I could feel their energy thrumming with each gliding footstep.
“We typically like to start by teaching the basic moves,” Shivani told us. “A basic step, then we get into some more technical ones. We also learn line dances and play dance-related games during each meeting.”
We broke into pairs, forming a circle around Shivani and Jared. They taught us the basics: one person is the lead, and the other is the follower. The follow goes with whatever moves the lead guides them into. I took Amilia’s hands into mine and waited for further instruction. Our palms were clammy from sweat.
Suddenly, we hear Jared’s voice projecting through the room, “Let’s begin by learning the basic step of swing dancing. First, step with your right foot to the right side of your partner.”
We stepped and stared. He looked around the room at all of the different dancing pairs and nodded.
“Now, with your left foot, step in place slightly to the right. Yup, just like that. Bring your right foot back and rock on it, moving your body to the right, then the left. Now that your weight is back on your left foot, you can repeat the full step again.”
And so Amilia and I tried. We were a little stiff at first, to which they gave gentle corrections: loosening up our arms, shifting our weight onto our feet, and slightly pointing our toes. This, Amilia and I knew. It was like our old dance classes, but without counting out the steps. Rather, in swing dancing, we learned to move with the music rather than following numbered choreography.
After we danced, I took a moment to step aside and speak with the dance instructor, Jared. He asked me if I enjoyed the session, to which I explained that I didn’t simply enjoy it; I found it exhilarating. I asked him about what the average class session looked like, and if this was the norm—the dressing up, and the relatability for beginners.
It turns out that they do enjoy theme nights, other than Halloween costumes. They also do things like cowboy night, where they wear western-style clothes, as well as games like freeze-dancing, blindfolded dancing, and other activities that encourage you to socialize and dance with new partners.
“We usually start out with a lesson,” Jared said. “There are often two lessons going on at once: a beginner and an intermediate lesson. We teach moves, style, and sometimes different styles of dance. Some basic moves we may teach are the window, pretzel, and a basic dip.” He encouraged us to come back on Wednesdays, which are more popular than Tuesday sessions, and “...typically get anywhere from 20–40 people, sometimes more!”
Dance is an extension of one’s expression—in that way, it’s an art. I’ve always loved that form of social expression you can share with others. And frankly, the feeling of being lifted off your feet and spinning in the air is pretty cool.—Jared
As someone who has helped teach choreography for multiple kinds of dance, I also asked Jared about his teaching philosophy, or style. I was thoroughly impressed with how easily he weaved in and out of dance partners, showing new moves and giving kind critiques. He helped create such a compassionate and beginner-friendly environment that my friend and I felt completely comfortable making mistakes in.
“My teaching style adapts to every situation,” he replied. “If I am in the middle of the room teaching everyone at once, I must be direct with my verbal communication and body movements. If I'm teaching in isolation, I can adjust to what they need specifically. I put myself into the shoes of those I teach and ask myself: How would I want to learn this move myself? The key is to adapt to someone's dance experience.”
Swing dancing is about more than the physical activity. It’s about the community and people, and the connections that you build through a shared love for something. I thanked him for his time, and when Amilia and I got to the parking lot, we took a minute to practice our new moves between the cars, weaving and twirling underneath the stars. I can’t wait to attend another meeting and continue to learn new things about this style of dance.
Interested in viewing the club, but hesitant to join a meeting? The Dearborn Swing Dancing Club is hosting a performance in Kochoff Hall’s A and B on November 22nd at 2 p.m.!
