When you’ve been doing something for a long time, it’s difficult to remember what it was like to be a newbie. Once time has woven the once-unfamiliar into the fabric of your being it’s hard to recall when it wasn’t part of you – or the struggle to get there. It is usually (hopefully) those that have been down that road who are teaching the newcomers.
As instructors, we regularly stand before an eager group of women ready to try bellydance for the first time. We demonstrate hip drops and basic Egyptian walks. We explain and count and cue, and often watch them flounder to find the beat and step on it. Do you remember when that was you?
Getting some “beginner perspective” every once in a while is a good thing for an instructor. This past weekend I was one of a group of workshop presenters at a bellydance event. I dropped in to a Bhangra/Bollywood workshop for fun. I picked up a few moves, but the most valuable thing I got was the opportunity to stand in the beginner’s shoes.
The rhythm count was unfamiliar, the hopping around was not my style – I’m not a “bouncy” type. The wide low stance felt weird and un-dancelike to me. The arm movements and hand gestures were hard to remember. I felt awkward and self-conscious. All this might make it sound like I didn’t like the style or the class but that wasn’t the case at all. I did enjoy it and it’s also a style I enjoy watching. If I decided to learn it, it would clearly be a long time before I looked Bollywood-cute or like anything more than a spastic marionette.
I do consider myself a patient teacher and my students’ comments back that up. However, tonight as I started a new session with a large crop of total beginners I had both patience and a renewed connection to how awkward it can feel to stand in their place. I’m always excited and proud to watch new students execute their first steps, but as tonight’s students hip twisted their way across the floor it was just that much better.