The Reflection Of The Dance

Almost everyone in the world feels a need to belong. When searching for one’s own identity, the questions of where power lies and who disperses it derive. The choices to separate, conform and individualize play the most significant role in identity because those choices refer individuals to the people they associate with. Deirdre N. McCloskey’s “Yes, Ma’am” and Alice Walker’s “Beauty: When the Other Dancer is the Self” relate in finding an identity and self-accepting oneself.

A music box like sound twinkled with a bright tune throughout the hospital. Its tune was heard from the quiet and calm patient rooms, through the long white hallways, and to the comfortable hospital lobby where I stood waiting. I wonder what that sound was? Well, who cares? I’ve got other things to worry about. It was my first day of volunteering at the Fountain Valley Regional Hospital. The first tasks I was assigned were to greet, to help, and to escort visitors to their destination. My shaky hands were clasped together in an attempt to stay calm. Jeez I hope I don’t get lost while escorting a visitor.

“Right this way,” the nurse ahead of me was prompting me to a brightly lit hall that was completely foreign to me. I couldn’t help but be terrified by the sights and sounds around me: people chattering, machines methodically beeping, gurneys rushing past. It was my first time in a hospital and my eyes frantically searched each room looking for any trace of my father. She stopped suddenly and I turned to the bed in front of me but I could not comprehend what I saw. At such a young age, I idolized my father; I had never seen him so vulnerable. Seeing him laying in a hospital bed unconscious, surrounded by wires and tubes was like witnessing Superman encounter kryptonite. My dad’s car accident not only made him a quadriplegic, but also crippled

Feelings of desperation and worry flourished my body as I watched my mother with tubes in her mouth getting rushed to the operating room. “Is mommy going to make it out alive?”. “Will I become an orphan?”. These are the exact thoughts that were running through my mind. In life one minute you could be decorating your Christmas tree and the other you're sitting in an uncomfortable chair of the

The female dancer re-enters the stage sans the blue shirt/shorts and repeats the gestures with a bit more feeling, and the male does the same thing after the female exits. The next time the female enters the stage, she is only in the colorful bra and black briefs. The male enters the stage in a black bra and colorful underwear. The color in the costumes sends a message of the differences between males and females, but the black undergarments lean towards blurring the lines of gender. The lights get brighter as clothing is shed. The two performers fully embody the gestures now, and seem to have more of an intimate connection with one another. The music constantly seems to be an underscore of the dance, but does not add much to it. The dancers share weigh and partner with more sensuality, and eventually are silhouetted with blue light as they return to gesture and awkward ballroom partnering. The lights fade as they continue to move.

I had been instructed to introduce myself to the patients, so I started with the first room and began to work my way down the long and dimly lit hallway. Popping my head into each room, I quickly muttered my name and half of a greeting before rushing over to the next one. Many of the patients in the unit didn’t acknowledge me, and for that, I was grateful. It wasn’t until I had gotten to the last room, in fact, that I was even met with a

My hospital bed was ice cold and the bleak and empty white walls depressed me as the uncomforting thought that I would have to stay here for maybe another week brought tears to my eyes. The usual and oppressive smell of disinfectant lingered in the room as I recalled that night in my head, trying to convince myself it wasn’t my fault, as I had done everyday since the accident. It was the day everything changed and my life was turned upside down. Forever.

My personal aesthetic in the terms of dance extends far beyond mentioning what I like and what I dislike. It unfolds the layers of my personality, my style, and my past experiences. I tend to think of aesthetics in the form of a jigsaw puzzle. Within a puzzle there are hundreds of important pieces that fit together to make a grand image and each puzzle piece requires a process of development and self-discovery. My aesthetic puzzle pieces include confidence, vulnerability, dynamic, high energy, illusion, and emotional connection. Most of my aesthetic is initiated by personal preference or a significant event in my life, but I will start with the foundation of my dance training first. I was raised in the dance studio where I regularly practiced ballet, jazz, tap, musical theatre, and contemporary. I was blessed to have the opportunity to explore multiple genres of dance at a young age and as a result of this, I began my aesthetic development with a very versatile palette of movements and interpretations.

While waiting, I yearned for answers; I wanted to know structure of the hospital, the reason for the constant beeping sound, the number of surgeries scheduled, patients that were being treated nearby, and the quickest way to them. Being sly, I would sneak off and try to get a glimpse of an actual chart. After his surgery, my grandfather was quickly escorted to ICU; “ICU, ICU, what could this mean?”

I watched as my family said goodbye as a I lay in my hospital bed, breathing raspily. I told them that I loved them. I tried to reach out for my mother’s hand, but was stopped by the short slack of all the tubes and wires connected to me. She comes closer so she can hold my hand, so she can comfort me in my last moments.

Dance has been a natural movement form since the beginning of time. The origin of dance is unknown, just as the knowledge of the benefits of dance are unknown to many in our society. Many people do not enjoy dancing and also do not fully understand the positive benefits that come from dancing. Researchers such as Edwards, Duberg, and many more have found countless mental and emotional benefits of dance that originate from movement patterns, brain connections, and even expressions of emotion. Many are aware of the physical benefits of dance, but beyond the physical benefits of dance, there are also emotional and mental benefits that come from dance as well.

I must say that my hole spring quarter has been dedicated to deepening my overall understanding of West-African dance alone. In preparation this to study with the Urban Bush this summer I wanted to make sure that I was able to develop a stronger foundation in my West-African dance technique this quarter. My Mondays and Wednesday from 2:00-6:30 were dedicated to Professor Parker's ( Makeda- Kumasi) West-African dancing and drumming classes held at UCR. I also seeked outside the classroom to gain a community experience of this dance genre so that I could compare and contrast the similarities and differences I found. My goals were to truly embody the many elements that are associated in this dance genre. In my discoveries I was able to

My supervisor, one of the head nurses, hurriedly pulled me to the corner of the bleach white hospital room and directed me to put on gloves, an eye mask, and a face mask. I felt as if I was preparing for war as I put on all of the required gear. The sound of expensive shoes click-clacked down the hallway indicating the arrival of two doctors who rushed into the room and shouted out orders to the staff while pulling the doors to the room shut along with the curtains. Two doctors, eight nurses, an intern, and a dying patient squeezed into the already claustrophobic ten by fifteen-foot room. The machine monitoring the patient’s vital signs continued to beep incessantly as my heart rate accelerated. Throughout my internship, I had never seen a patient in critical condition until that moment. I remembered my teacher’s advice if we were ever in a situation such as this: take a few deep breaths and sit down if you feel like you’re going to pass out. In that

It was an unpleasantly early morning in the hospital waiting room. Nurses buzzed around, busy attending to their patients while a faint beeping sound could be heard in the background. I was starting my second shift of the day at the hospital, just finishing working a shift in the dark, grimy morgue. Groggy, I sat down at my desk to begin another four hours of labor. My position was to assure that the paper work was properly completed and that all patients were attended too. While being a supervising nurse was a great responsibility, it left time to day dream.

This fall dance concert was filled with joy, darkness, torture, culture, and women's rights, right when you sit down and observe through all 8 dance performances. It would have been 9 dance routines but the dancer who was suppose to perform Hart Broken had an injury, which made a putt off. Nevertheless the show must go on, it starts off with the first and second performance, Xtra Xtra and Scar Tissue. Revealing that both performances were different themes because Xtra Xtra had the dancers in radiant colors and seemed to be energetic, whereas the performers in Scar Tissue were clothed in black attire, such as tutus, dresses, and tights, yet still energetic. This brought to my attention that the whole dance performances were contrast to each other. Throughout the routines of the dance concert, the