We Need More Junior High Dances
In An Age of Fight or Flight, What if We Risked Some New Moves?
It’s a familiar “boom,” followed by the dramatic silence coursing with anticipation.
And then Whitney Houston blows your soul away: “And I-y-I will always love you.”
Shivers every time.
It was during an 8th grade dance that I remember listening to those words more closely for the first time. Barely teenagers, we had just finished romping around to Green Day’s latest when the soft sounds of Whitney’s hit emerged from the speakers.
Everyone knew what that meant. Anxiously, fearfully, and a bit hopefully I looked for a girl. At previous dances I largely hung out in the gym rafters, stunned by those brave enough to venture onto the dance floor.
On this particular night the ranks of rafter-fearful kept thinning with each passing song. Clearly courage was the new ‘in,’ and so I went for it.
“Do you want to dance?”
“Sure,” she responded.
And then we engaged in that incredibly awkward moment where you try to figure out where to touch and not touch. Generally, these first number of times, it’s pretty much like the two of you are making four bridges with your arms. If preschoolers were present they might assume it was some kind of game where they were to run under the bridge before it collapsed or something.
Like I said, awkward.
And also…a dance.
Back and forth.
Sometimes a slow circle is made.
Occasionally a hint of rhythm.
Continually, a genuine concern that the sweaty hands are going to be noticed.
“Whoa, they’re good.”
The easiest way to divert attention from the sweat and the fact that the two of you have never stood nearly this close before is to talk about was everyone else on the dance floor. And besides, they were good.
There was always one or two of those couples that picked up dance moves during the early middle school years when the everybody else was busy playing wall ball or eating Fruit Roll-Ups. And whether it was a slow ballad, upbeat hip hop, or old school pop, they knew how to…
Move.
Sway.
Give-and-take in that fluid way that dancers do.
Meanwhile, we stared. Under the anthem of eternal love.
When I think back to those moments, I’m usually prone laugh, cringe, or shake my head in mild astonishment that I made it alive through that level of awkwardness. But recently a new thought has crossed my mind:
What if we adults could use a few more junior high school dances?
My questions does not mean to make small of the significantly divided moment in which we live these days. Quite the opposite, I think junior high school dance dynamics may illuminate some of the essential elements at work in our society today - and even point a way forward that avoids the fight (for my side) or flight (with my side) preference that so predominates and perforates our social fabric.
Because here’s the thing about those dances: they occur during a life-stage of significant transition. In times of significant transition, the most natural thing in the world is to look for safety.
“To the rafters! With my people!”
At this point, most folks in this country are fairly entrenched in one of two rafters. They face one another with a great chasm in between. Certainly we see this in our country. But also, we see this kind of thing play out in our workplaces, neighborhoods, families and faith communities.
Sometimes the best we can do is get close enough to make arm bridges.
Like, “Ok, I will try and connect if you try and connect, and let’s pretend we don’t look like middle schoolers meeting for the first time.”
Except, that’s where we are.
Many times, things have gotten so separated and entrenched that whatever it looks like to connect with or understand them (let alone learn from or befriend them(?)) requires a troubling level of vulnerability.
Honestly, it’s probably too much for most people. The rafters are too comfortable and the amount of sweat likely induced on that dance floor too much (What is everyone on my side going to think?! What should I say?! How can I listen without somehow standing up for my side/thing/belief?! Plus, anymore, I haven’t been close to that side of things in so long that I’m not terribly attracted to the idea of a dance with them.).
Like I said, sweat.
Maybe, then, the best place to start is with the vision.
What if we turned our heads to watch one of those couples that someone picked up on how to dance with one another while the rest of us have been busy playing politics ball and eating high fructose feeds.1
You know, the rare people who are different from one another and yet, fluid.
Entirely their own person, and also somehow more themselves in rhythm with the other.
What’s the secret to the truly great dancers? In the workplace? In our families? In politics? In marriage? In life?
One answer is super practical - they’re likely not dancing with people who are their complete opposite in every way. The jock does not usually make their first dance someone with the goth crowd. And vice versa. It’s more like I like baseball. She likes softball. And we take the bridge of commonality already built.
That sounds obvious. But in our time where we are prone to use the most extreme examples from the other side and paint that on all of ‘them,’ it seems wise to remind ourselves that many potential bridges do, in fact, exist.
The other thing that makes for truly great dancers? They’re big on questions.
Good questions open space for another to offer a thought. Why do you think that? How would that work? What would that look like? Why is that important to you? How to consider that in light of this other thing/person/point? What do you fear most? What do you hope most?
The questioner is like the one in the dance who takes a step back while the other steps forward, leaning into a response. The questioner is the follower, the responder leads. Of course, in a good dance, that dynamic needs to be fluid. The responder now needs to open space with a question(s) - a back-step that allows the other person to now step forward and lead.
Follow-Lead. Lead-Follow. Awkward at first. Yes. But ask enough questions and a fluidity starts to emerge.
To be sure, not just any questions will do.
Leading question where we are driving the other person into a corner…
Accusatory questions where we don’t want to hear an answer but actually just make a point…
Questions that arrive not as curious but calculated…
Those are dead on arrival. That’s like pretending to step back in the dance when in fact you are pulling the other person forward and very much taking control.
It not only fails to work, it makes things worse.
Sure, we say. But at this point that is where we are. We’re too divided! Too different! And we’re simply no longer interested in trying. The dance-of-questions is something we should have practiced twenty years ago, but now the time is passed.
The critique is fair. Perhaps a dancing unto new bridges, new learning, perhaps even new kinship - it might be far too idealistic.
Unless… unless both parties believe they can speak and actually be heard on their own terms. Unless there were some way for both parties to trust that the whole dance is unfolding under an anthem of love.
Do such spaces exist? Spaces where Whitney’s truth sings like a benediction over each person and all that unfolds?
Sometimes we call them safe spaces.
Sometimes we call them circles of trust.
And sometimes we don’t have a name for them but we know it when we feel it: I can trust these people and speak raw, searching, still-trying-to-figure-it-out-truths from the heart.
Recovery groups of every kind know exactly what I am talking about. Yes, they ascertain. We know about that kind of space. And it saves lives. It saved mine.
And truth be told, I think if there is one unique, critical way that the church in North America can offer a timely contribution to the state of our country, it is this: the church can be this space.
At its best, the church lives and moves and has its being under a banner of love. Love is the heartbeat of the church.
Sacrificial love.
Forgiving love.
Just love.
Reconciling love.
Love for the wrong people.
Love for the enemy.
Love for the other side.
Love for ourselves.
Because the church believes that is how God loves.
Imagine that:
Want to come to our church?
What’s it like?
We dance a lot. It’s awkward. Sometimes sweaty. Occasionally so surprising and beautiful the whole thing floors you, and you think maybe there is yet hope for our world.
Whether in a church, a recovery group, a coffee shop, a family room, a classroom, a workspace or otherwise…have you known spaces where it felt like the whole thing unfolded under a banner of love?
Searching questions were asked.
Honest responses given.
Hard things probed.
Minds changed… Maybe. Maybe not.
But hearts somehow closer, perhaps?
You know, like a dance. Where maybe the most fundamental thing achieved is a deeper sense of genuine connection. Sometimes even an accompanying joy. And as most couples who’ve been together for some time can testify: even if you still can’t agree, it’s rather stunning how much you feel is possible if the connection is real.
—
Again, I get it. Honestly, it’s idealistic. Childish perhaps, when rumors of violence and revolution swirl, spin, and grow.2
But some may also point out that one of the more significant Revolutionaries of our world would probably reply to that by saying, “exactly.”
Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.
My guess is, for him, courage is the new ‘in.’
So…
Do we go for it?
Shall we dance?
The critique here is not with politics in the sense of weighty, significant matters that affect our collective well-being and deserve thoughtful, due consideration from multiple perspectives. The critique is the way that politics reduces too easily into teams, slogans, jeering, and entertainment. Which is to say, sports.
Of course, if life’s a dance, it might be argued that camping out in the rafters is its own version of childish (masquerading as strength).
Growing up in a small rural community, We had these dances in different family homes until high school. Also, the American Legion and VFW would sponsor dances as fund raisers. A lot of the High School students, recent graduates, and young couples would attend. I think this and the lack of cell
phones greatly improved personal communication and socialization.
Very true and emotionally touching. Those dances were quite memorable and can teach us quite a bit. Thank you!