DANCING FOR OUR MANY MOTHERS

 

Ouled Nayl women, Algeria

 Whether your mother is biological,  someone who adopted you, or a mother within the realm of dance, use this time to honor her.

I watched my beautiful friend Alli Ruth, a  belly dancer from Finland,  as she performed.  She’d grown up in Southern California, and was trained by the late, great Diane Webber, a belly dance pioneer who influenced hundreds of dancers.  Diane’s troupe, Perfumes Of Araby, begat many strong solo performers who taught and influenced many others. Her classes at Every Woman’s Village in the San Fernando Valley of Los Angeles spawned many accomplished dancers, in the LA area and beyond, including Jillina.

But back to my pal Alli Ruth: in the middle of her show, the woman sitting next to me burst into tears.  She clutched at my arm and  sniffled,

“I’m so sorry… but I see Diane in her dancing!”

It was a profound moment; I’m getting goose bumps right now just writing about it.

People have told me that they can see my teachers in my dancing, and I have also been told that students of mine reflect my own movements and essence.  While I was always proud of both statements, the point was never quite really driven home to me, until the other night…and then I began to think in an even broader scope.

In the very act of dancing, we are honoring our forebears in dance. Belly dancing has been handed down from mother to daughter, from teacher to pupil through many millennia and hundreds of generations. It is a song of the soul, and a celebration of beauty, femininity, power, and strength.

In the very act of dancing, we are honoring women   past and present, all over the world.

The women who gave birth to our physical beings, and/or raised us throughout our childhoods  are obviously very special… but there are so many other women to pay homage to; the women with no blood ties who selflessly gave birth to us in different ways.

 Our Dance Mothers nurtured us and raised us in art and beauty. They helped us through our baby steps to grow into strong performers, sharing our triumphs and our woes, advising us, seeing us through the ruts and rough periods. They understood our discouragement, our passions and helped us fulfill our goals.

No matter what style of dancing you perform, take a moment to think of all those who came before you, those  who  pioneered the way for us, those who taught our teachers.

Give silent respect and love to  the myriad women whom we never even knew in our lifetimes, women from your country and many other countries all over the globe who all have a hand in what we are doing today: practicing the gift of dance that we might sometimes take for granted, grumbling in a class or competing in an audition for a gig.

 On Mothers Day let’s dance… let’s dance for the mothers, grandmothers , great grandmothers and great  great grandmothers of our dance. Let’s celebrate the lives of Biblical temptresses, harem slaves, dirt-poor villagers,  the women in tiny dark apartments in Cairo in the 1970’s, the Romany women of the defunct Sulukule ghetto in Istanbul. Let’s dance for Mata Hari, Gypsy Rose Lee, Ruth St. Denis, Ginger Rogers, Isadora Duncan, and the nameless women of  every chorus line  that ever existed.

Let’s dance for  women of the stage and silver screen who dared to dance when they were forbidden to.

Let’s dance for the women who supported their entire families by dancing, even if it meant they were shamed by society…and the very families they supported!

 Let’s dance for women in Beirut when the bombs fell, for the women and girls of blood-torn Syria, for the veiled women who can’t drive in Saudi Arabia, and for all the  female children in Afghanistan who were denied education. Let’s dance for Malala Yousafzai, the Pakistani teenager who crusaded for women’s rights in the Swat Valley, who was shot in the head by the Taliban.

Let’s dance for the  276 girls who were kidnapped in Nigeria.

 Let’s dance for all the women whom we will never even know in our lifetimes…

Let’s honor our mothers by dancing for those who can’t, and  then let’s all close our eyes and hear their voices.

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This post was originally published in May 2013

#BRINGBACKOURGIRLS

The Belly Dance Handbook: A Companion For The Serious Dancer  is available on Amazon.com or you can purchase a signed copy from my website:

http://www.princessfarhana.com/shop.htm

GOING PRO PART SIX: HAVE YOU GOT A DANCE MAMA, BABY?

Even if you have some performance experience, it doesn’t mean you’re fully prepared to embark on a solo professional career without at least some guidance.

There’s a vast difference between “paying your dues” and learning the hard way, so you it would behoove you to seek out a mentor.

A mentor is a role model who’ll show you the ropes, answer questions, offer advice and support, and help you through any rough patches or any dance dilemmas you might have. Most importantly, your mentor should be willing to be completely open and truthful with you concerning your growing career. Your mentor could be your primary instructor, or basically it any dance professional you admire whose opinion you trust.

Some people have such a close relationship with their mentor that they affectionately refer to her as their “Dance Mama”… but there can be Dance Papas or Dance Babas, too!

My own mentor was a male dancer named Zein Abd Al Malik. He was a terrific dancer who'd danced in San Francisco and Morocco before coming to LA. He was also a lanky six and a half feet tall with sea green, kohl-rimmed eyes peering out from under his expertly–wrapped turban. When he balanced a tray as big as a table-top on his head, all the women in the audience lost it! He took a shine to me early on, bringing me to Arabic night clubs and introducing me around, answering my endless questions, making me belly dance mix tapes - yes, on cassettes! He gave me technical and stylistic hints, helped me select my first professional costume, and he’d have me over for mint tea and Egyptian movies once in a while. He really nurtured me as a baby dancer at the very beginning of my career…in fact, he got me my first job! Zein has been deceased for years, but not a day goes by that I don't think of him, or his extensive professional knowledge and his exquisite generosity.

One great way to learn from your mentor is to accompany her to gigs and festivals as an assistant. Usually you won’t get paid for doing this, but if you consider it like an apprenticeship, you’ll gain invaluable insight into the way everything works. You won’t just be seeing the show, you’ll see what it’s like backstage and behind the scenes too. You’ll see what it’s like to teach for three to six hours a day, and then get ready for a show in under an hour. You’ll also be able to see the way she interacts with the producers, with other dancers, and the general public… and you will also have the opportunity to make contacts yourself, because you’ll be meeting everyone she knows!

If there are no likely candidates to mentor you within your own community, seek out someone online. You won’t have the face-to-face interaction, but you’ll still gain knowledge and insight. I can’t even tell you how many dancers from all over the world I’ve mentored over the years via email. Don’t be afraid to reach out to someone you admire and ask questions. Worst-case scenario? You don’t get a reply. But chances are the person you’ve chosen will take some time to answer your questions. Nobody was born with this knowledge, and most people will be happy to help. You may even develop a friendship.

...and with any luck, in a few years, it will be you passing on your knowledge to an eager protege!