Be true to yourself and to others
This is a sort-of sequel to a previous post "Why you should be Professional even if you're a Beginner"
Mainly because I want to reference "How to Train Your Dragon," again. I can't help it. The second film is coming out this summer! I want to see it, dang it!
A little backstory, the main character, Hiccup, is not your typical Viking. In actuality, no matter how hard he tries, he cannot live up to the expectations of the Viking culture. It's just not who he is. He still tries though to win his father's pride and acceptance and love. Eventually, when he accepts himself as the person he truly is, he gains respect from his tribe. He also influences his culture to evolve in such a way that improves everyone's livelihood. So another moral taught in this awesome movie is that a community is better off when people are honest with themselves and to others. Mira Betz has mentioned the same idea in her workshops, lectures, and in her interview with Shimmy magazine. If you get a chance, purchase the back issue and read that piece. What the community needs is you and the art you want to contribute. The community doesn't need another Rachel Brice. We already have a Rachel Brice.
Tribal belly dance wouldn't exist if students like Masha Archer and John Compton and Katarina Burda didn't share what they genuinely wanted to create. It takes a lot of courage and a lot of patience to discover who you are and the colors of your dance. If you want dance as a form of genuine expression, you need to take this journey. Otherwise, when you dance, we don't see you. We instead see Rachel's sidewinders or Zoe's kick spins. We can congratulate you for your skill, but we may quickly forget who you are. Why? Because you didn't share a piece of yourself.
One thing we never like to acknowledge is the fact that people don't stick around forever. Sometimes, people have to change the directions of their lives. The dancers closest to us move away or follow new opportunities, and then they're gone. The same can happen with our pioneers of our art form. They are getting married, having kids, and retiring. They are human beings, too, and sometimes humans need to change. Those who do stick around and continue to live their lives happily involved will still leave us eventually. That's life.
One day we will discover that we, the students, have become the masters. We will be responsible for the future generations of our dance.
I think this is why I've been told that I am too serious (or have a stick up my ass) when it comes to the dance and all of the other business related to it. Yeah sure, I get a lot of personal benefits from it that draws all of us to belly dancing. I love practicing and performing, but it's not about personal indulgence for me. I'm concerned about what my students will pass on to others when they start performing and teaching. I'm concerned about establishing belly dance as an art form that deserves respect. I'm concerned about building creative communities that inspire people to work together and make positive changes in our world. That's what I'm all about.
The beauty of our tribe is that there is a place for everyone: the career dancers, the hobbyists, the fan girls, male belly dancers, musicians, photographers, videographers, graphic artists, web designers, event coordinators, spouses and significant others, and everyone else who loves belly dance and/or is directly involved with it. Together, we form a community, and our talents benefit everyone. Not everyone has to be a dancer and not all dancers have to dance. So whenever life seems a little stale, take the time to acknowledge your talents and passions, but more importantly your goals. Again, they don't have to be dance related, but if they are then your dance community is blessed.
Mainly because I want to reference "How to Train Your Dragon," again. I can't help it. The second film is coming out this summer! I want to see it, dang it!
A little backstory, the main character, Hiccup, is not your typical Viking. In actuality, no matter how hard he tries, he cannot live up to the expectations of the Viking culture. It's just not who he is. He still tries though to win his father's pride and acceptance and love. Eventually, when he accepts himself as the person he truly is, he gains respect from his tribe. He also influences his culture to evolve in such a way that improves everyone's livelihood. So another moral taught in this awesome movie is that a community is better off when people are honest with themselves and to others. Mira Betz has mentioned the same idea in her workshops, lectures, and in her interview with Shimmy magazine. If you get a chance, purchase the back issue and read that piece. What the community needs is you and the art you want to contribute. The community doesn't need another Rachel Brice. We already have a Rachel Brice.
Tribal belly dance wouldn't exist if students like Masha Archer and John Compton and Katarina Burda didn't share what they genuinely wanted to create. It takes a lot of courage and a lot of patience to discover who you are and the colors of your dance. If you want dance as a form of genuine expression, you need to take this journey. Otherwise, when you dance, we don't see you. We instead see Rachel's sidewinders or Zoe's kick spins. We can congratulate you for your skill, but we may quickly forget who you are. Why? Because you didn't share a piece of yourself.
One thing we never like to acknowledge is the fact that people don't stick around forever. Sometimes, people have to change the directions of their lives. The dancers closest to us move away or follow new opportunities, and then they're gone. The same can happen with our pioneers of our art form. They are getting married, having kids, and retiring. They are human beings, too, and sometimes humans need to change. Those who do stick around and continue to live their lives happily involved will still leave us eventually. That's life.
One day we will discover that we, the students, have become the masters. We will be responsible for the future generations of our dance.
I think this is why I've been told that I am too serious (or have a stick up my ass) when it comes to the dance and all of the other business related to it. Yeah sure, I get a lot of personal benefits from it that draws all of us to belly dancing. I love practicing and performing, but it's not about personal indulgence for me. I'm concerned about what my students will pass on to others when they start performing and teaching. I'm concerned about establishing belly dance as an art form that deserves respect. I'm concerned about building creative communities that inspire people to work together and make positive changes in our world. That's what I'm all about.
The beauty of our tribe is that there is a place for everyone: the career dancers, the hobbyists, the fan girls, male belly dancers, musicians, photographers, videographers, graphic artists, web designers, event coordinators, spouses and significant others, and everyone else who loves belly dance and/or is directly involved with it. Together, we form a community, and our talents benefit everyone. Not everyone has to be a dancer and not all dancers have to dance. So whenever life seems a little stale, take the time to acknowledge your talents and passions, but more importantly your goals. Again, they don't have to be dance related, but if they are then your dance community is blessed.
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