Fast forward. The summary is that most dance training is quite toxic – and it is so by default. Let’s dive in!
The core of artistic/dance training is actually not the technical learning, but the interpersonal learning and lessons about self and identity. Most dancers will not become full-time professionals, but they will take with them the lessons they learned about their self-worth, their belonging, and their ability to be loved.
All dance classes and artistic education, by default, have an insidious (dare I say “toxic”) background that says “you are not good enough”- even when it is not our intention. In every class we lead, we at the helm of leading artistic education, have the beautiful opportunity of being able to alter that paradigm by attending to our “students” as people first.
Basic Principles I Propose for Addressing Default Toxicity:
- Collectively naming and presencing ourselves to the emotions in the room is not a distraction but a core part of artistic learning and development.
- Communal practices to develop trust, belongingness, and connection are critical for creating a “safe” classroom environment.
- The development of the instructor’s compassionate ways of being and thinking is a core part of instructor development.
For myself, I was not raised in the dance world (I started dancing in college), and therefore I feel I was able to escape the idea that I needed to completely conform to others in order to be accepted. Still, I struggled with not being good enough and not being technically perfect. But mostly what I struggled with was toxic dance environments, on top of a lifetime of toxic “microsystems – the daily, interpersonal spaces we inhabit throughout our lives.
The Origins of The Toxicity. Let’s talk about the default toxicity of the classroom environment. When I say toxicity, it is important to know that it is “not our fault” that it is there. An instructor may be actively abusive and derogatory towards students – for example, making derogatory comments about dancers’ bodies, comparing students to ideals, etc.. An instructor might also unknowingly encouraging insecurity by encouraging competition over collaboration and community. Even in the case where an instructor is compassionate, warm, and perhaps even divine-like presence, what is in the room will still be “I am not good enough.” This is because the society we have grown up in (and its corresponding systems of conditioning and disconnection) – encourages us to shame our bodies, to stifle our self-expression, and to distrust others. Adding in the way in which people of different bodies, races, etc. are treated, and the toxicity is akin to psychological warfare. At 32 years old (oh my gosh, I wrote this four years ago and am publishing it at 36), I can tell you why I don’t frequent most classes anymore and it is because the toxicity is rarely addressed. We as students do not care who put it there, but we know it is uncomfortable.
Our Responsibility. Though we (often) do not create this toxicity, it is our responsibility to address it. While the toxicity may be due to a variety of factors, it remains. But how can it be addressed? Is what we are doing enough?
What Dancers Need if We Look at Them As Humans. Dancers must at all times, in all ways, know that they are imperfectly perfect, that they’ve done nothing wrong, and that they are good enough as they are. For these reasons, it is not good enough to avoid abuse. It is not good enough to be nice. A transformative practice is collectively naming the feelings and emotions students are experiencing and developing practices that encourage belongingness, trust, and connection to emerge over time. Transformative practices include instructors and class participants actively making amends when covenants of trust are broken, restoring the sense of safety in the class. Transformative practices include all participants actively engaging in this practice of seeing the “default toxicity” of the space so that they can begin to understand what might be changed and how.
Many of us are understanding that we have gone so much of our lives believing that there was something wrong with us – when in reality, it was our spaces that were not meeting our needs. When we enter spaces that are not a fit for our needs, spaces where our body is overwhelmed, we can call that space toxic to our body. Because systems of disconnection and conditioning pervade our society, many spaces have “by default” not met our needs and, therefore, have been toxic to us. Taking on the toxicities of all spaces we have inhabited through our lives, these toxicities “clog up” our bodies, often leading us to be “chronically overwhelmed”. This process of recounting the toxicities of our spaces is critical. Collectively and rigorously seeing the “default toxicity” within our past spaces (what I call “microsystems of disconnection”) provides us with intimate understandings of space elements that we can use to design or redesign our spaces of deep connection.
And there is so much more that we are learning we must unravel. What we often overlook in our spaces when we talk about designing spaces of deep connection where our needs are met is that which is much less obvious, the energetic space. To see all toxicities contributing to our spaces, we must be able to “see” and measure all of the energy of spaces (e.g., mental toxins created by racism, patriarchy; toxicities in our light, sound, air; patterns of disconnection that individuals bring with them). Fully seeing all toxicities, we can begin to understand where exactly our spaces (and our bodies) have been “clogged up”. Then, we can begin to experiment with moving that energy and unclogging our spaces (and our bodies).
Collective (movement) practice, which focuses on how we collectively move energy, then, is a powerful approach to designing spaces of deep connection. It is an often-hidden, ancient approach that many of us are seeking, studying, or drawn to, though we call it different things. I define collective (movement) practice as the collective practice of moving physical energy in a space to create the energetic conditions necessary for deep connection to be possible. I believe there is gold in the rigorous study of collective (movement) practice and these ancient wisdoms are here to teach us how to do our Work of designing spaces of deep connection. As we step into our full power to build spaces of deep connection that meet our needs, as we slowly uncover ancient wisdoms of collective (movement) practice, we all deserve the opportunity to learn the truth and the power of collective (movement) practice. Zooming out, we can see that, within this study of collective (movement) practice, there are thousands and thousands of years of ancient science, art, design, culture, and medicine guiding us as we build our spaces of deep connection. May we find each other, study together, learn together. May we fully step into our power as builders of spaces of deep connection. Join us at our Open House to collectively practice seeing the “default toxicity” of the microsystems of (dis)connection we’ve left behind and to co-learn, reflect, and share about how we use collective (movement) practice to design/redesign spaces of deep connection.
These ideas and questions are central to Raw Movement, an approach to inquiring about and experimenting with co-creating spaces of deep connection through collective (movement) practice. If you’re in the practice of creating grounding, deep connection, home, family, and desire to experiment with co-creating spaces of deep connection, find out more about Raw Movement at: www.rawmovement.org.
This writing is a part of my Conversations on Deep Connection series. If you’re also in the practice of creating grounding, deep connection, home, family and would like to get notified of new conversations, click here to get notified of new conversations.