My history with dance

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My history
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by James Morley
W
hen you’re alone and life is making you lonely
You can always go, downtown…
Just listen to the rhythm of the traffic in the city
Linger on the sidewalks, the neon lights so pretty...
How can you lose?
“Downtown,” Petula Clark’s musical hit of the 1960’s, was played in
my honor by the host of a New Year’s Party. The host knew that I was
probably the only boy, now or since, to sing that song for “Show and Tell” in kindergarten, in front of
all my classmates. Privately, I danced to it, playing my Aunt Kathy’s 45rpm recording over and over
again, the first song I remember dancing to. I call this part of my history with dance the “Petula” phase,
during which I was free to express myself and did so. How wonderful and exciting to be singing and
dancing to “Downtown” in Mountain City, Tennessee!
The next period I term the “coolot” phase. Do you know what coolots are? They are baggy, dresslike shorts. The coolot phase—about third grade—was a time in my life when my Presbyterian parents
joined a Southern Baptist church, which then rebaptized me, since, according to them, my infant
baptism was not valid. Those Baptists also believed that women should not wear clothing that was at
all similar to what men wore. So the answer for gracious, athletic southern women—like my
mother—was to wear coolots. Coolots for the women of the church softball team. It made
them distinct. I remember as a young boy, being awed by the blatant Catholic women who
wore PANTS (of all things) while playing softball. They were the arch rivals, those, those
PANT women!
During my coolot phase I also received the message that dancing was wrong, which didn’t
make sense, given that there were home movies of my parents doing the Watusi and Limbo.
Too much fun. One of the most shameful episodes of my life was when I was in the
fourth grade and dancing ( privately, I thought) to the Archies hit tune, “Sugar, Sugar.”
Spinning around I suddenly faced my Aunt Nancy who was watching with pride.
However, I was embarrassed. The little caught boy said, “I’m sorry. Don’t tell
them I was dancing.” The coolot phase was when I internalized the rule and
subsequent shame for a natural expression.
The next phase in my history of dance was the ecclesiastical
one. Let’s just call it the “church” phase. In my position as
minister one Sunday morning in 1996, I preached on
the Old Testament story of David dancing as the Ark
of the Covenant was brought back to Jerusalem.
While reading the story from the Bible, standing behind the pulpit in my black robe—I
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must have moved (danced) just a little too noticably. A month later,
in a church business meeting, a Presbyterian elder who happened to
be a woman of my age then (mid-thirties) said, with eyes squinting and
a condemning, sarcastic tone, “I saw you when you read the story of
David dancing...you were, you were sexy in the pulpit!” I knew at that
meeting my time in that church was limited. I could not move there. Literally or figuratively. The joy of the movement and story was soured. At the time
of the accusation, I was too shocked to understand the compliment not intended
by that woman. As a gay minister, today I relish and understand it.
I am 40 years old. I have been out to myself and loved ones for three years now.
In my fourth year of living as a gay man, my connection to dance is central and a
point of pleasure. I am fortunate to have friends who love me and try to set me up
with the most interesting and healthy men. A favorite activity is to invite these men
to our local club and dance with them. I’ll never forget one date who had never danced
with a man before. How honored I was to be his first dance partner and to later witness
his crooked smile explode with gorgeous teeth as we moved together on the dance
f loor. Later that evening, we walked to the Rotunda and Lawn, the center of the University of Virginia grounds, and waltzed under the winter moonlit sky. Historically, the
Lawn could be considered the center of the Virginia universe. So for me, dance has come
full circle, surviving periods of shame to once again being an expression of joy. I call it the
“universal” phase. How happy I am that what was once considered shameful is at the
center of my universe. As Petula sang,
Just listen to the rhythm of the gentle bossa nova. You’ll be dancing with them too, before the night is
over (ovah). Happy Again.
James Morley is a chaplain at West Virginia University Hospital in Morgantown, W.V.
2000 Calendar of Events and Programs
Available
this November:
July 27-30 Yoga intensive with Tias Little
22" x 30" silkscreen prints
of original artwork
from Be Here Now,
pages 1, 7, 12 & 77.
Aug 3-6 Archetype Design with Vishu McGee
Aug 10-13 Tuning of the Heart w/Bilal Hyde, Allaudin Ottinger & Asha Greer
Aug 13 Visitors’ Day
Aug 17-20 Gurdjieff Movements with James Tomarelli
Sept 1-4 Gay & Lesbian Spirituality Renewal
Sept 4-16 Vajra Yogini Retreat & Pilgrimage
Sept 17 Closing Visitors’ Day
Lama Foundation
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PO Box 240
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NM 87564
(505) 586-1269
[email protected]
www.lamafoundation.org
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