Kids miss out on romance of the dance

It's summer again, which means many things. It means the temperature is more than adequately hot and humid. It means the days are long and the nights sultry. It means kids have time off from school, and adults wish they did, too. It means the Annual Summer Swing Dance is about to happen.

Every year I ask myself why I organize a swing dance. Why do I spend the money to rent the facility• Why do I take the time to design invitations and send them out• Why do I shop for cups and napkins, spend hours decorating, and endlessly collect music and organize it into categories on my computer• Why, on the night of the dance, do I fly around, making sure everything is perfect and everyone is having a good time?

On one level the answer is simple. I like to organize, and a swing dance seems like fun. After all, dressing up for a dance makes any girl excited, and the boys tag along because either they were forced to or they're putting on their 'gentleman' faces. Why not a swing dance?

Coming from a generation that has all but lost the art of dancing, that isn't quite a logical question, but that is where my generation has much to learn. Dancing -- a man with a woman -- is one of the oldest and most beautiful forms of mingling. In the 19th century, dancing was one of the easiest ways of getting to know someone. Often I am amazed at how easy it is to talk with a boy while dancing; there you are, just the two of you, dancing together. You're touching, but the touch is structured, allowed, and it's a friendly touch. A dance allows ample time to speak, but when the dance is over you can leave the conversation without feeling awkward or embarrassed.

It's sad that people no longer know how to dance as our grandparents and their parents did. Swing dance, the waltz and rumba all seem outdated in our society, but those structured dances have so much grace and fluidity to them. There's a sense of accomplishment to learning the steps and being able to improvise. The air of dignity that pervades a dance floor -- boys asking girls to dance, girls acting like ladies and boys like gentlemen -- is refreshing, if only for a little while.

Ballroom dance brings back the romance to dancing. Not romance in the sense of a boy and girl in love, though dancing is very romantic in that sense too, but simply in the sense of the feeling of romance. It's romantic to be young on a dance floor. It's romantic to be dressed up, and have the excitement of having partners. It's romantic to watch the couples spinning and stepping in time with the music. It's romantic to lose yourself in the breathless, giddy steps of a swing dance, or the dignified swirling of a waltz. The romance of dancing is something everyone can share -- from my parents to my teen friends.

There is a current perception of ballroom dancing as being boring and prudish, only fit for our grandparents. That, my friends, is a myth. Learn some swing steps and laugh, cheeks flushed, as you try to keep up with the rollicking music. Learn the cha-cha and feel the music creep up your legs and tingle in your hips. Ballroom dancing is not only fun and romantic, it's satisfying.

That is why I do the work. Every year, at the end of the Swing Dance, I know why I go to the trouble. It's because I want to share the romantic delight of dancing with others.

Ruth Snoke, 17, is homeschooled in Regent Square.

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