Hip Hop Horrible
So I thought I could dance. I was wrong.
I’m currently on vacay and have been filling the days before the holiday doing two-a-days at the pool. Goal: drop 3 pounds so as to regain it on Christmas Day. Brilliant. But I gave my goggles a rest yesterday evening to take a Hip Hop dance class taught by the one and only, Katie M.F. Anderson (aka: sorority little sister #1).
I felt pretty good about it going in: I have a bit of rhythm, I am half black (wow, not offensively stereotypical at all, Linz), and I took a nap beforehand (key). Not to mention, I’ve danced under the direction of Katie before . . . dressed like these guys. Embarrassing.
Just as we were getting started, I quickly learned that I’m horrible at Hip Hop. Every time I tried to roll my torso, pop my hip, or glide my feet, I looked . . . like a cheerleader. Like the way this guy describes cheerleaders:
It pains me to say this, and I’m POSITIVE my brother has opinions on this, but I think the years of cheerleading and coaching have stripped me of my dancing ability – if I even had it at all. I mean, I can break it down on the dance floor. I’m flexible enough to get “a little bit softer now” and coordinated enough to “step in the name of love”. But dancing without counting, not sure I can do it.
Now, I took tap dance my freshman year of college (that’s right, for 3 whole credits). I got an A in the class so there must be some dancing skill. Either that, or I talked my way into the grade (wouldn’t be the first time).
But the biggest revelation: during my quarter-life crisis a year and a half ago, I decided that I needed a new hobby. I thought this new hobby should rekindle something that I’m already relatively good at. My choices: competitive swimming or cheerleading (read: dancing because I don’t have time to coach any more).
Soooo… Glad to see I made the right choice.
That said, I’m en route to the pool now for part one of two (and in preparation for Sunday’s Double Chocolate Cheesecake – thanks Lesley!). But first, allow me to recap what I learned:
- Obvi, I wasn’t born to be a Hip Hop dancer.
- Regardless of skill, Hip Hop is SO much fun when you have a great teacher like Katie (sign up for her class here)
- My cheerleading style has some merits: I can choreograph (winning!) youth routines like this!
- I have a reason to publicly share this priceless photo (circa 2005):
Hey, at least I look the part. Or like a man…