Belonging

I can't recall when I remarked how beautiful the word 'belonging,' was to me.  The word is lacquered with ownership's corrosive connotations.  Like layers of toxic paint, to belong to something simultaneously includes some things and excludes others.  At the heart though is a beautiful word and one that inspires me. 


It's approximately 5 years since I first stepped through the doors of the Big Apple Ranch.  I count this as my dance anniversary.  I had taken a few two-step classes at a lesbian bar in Brooklyn, but it wasn't till I arrived at Dance Manhattan Studios that I discovered what would become a second home for me, the dance-floor.

In the years leading up to this discovery, I had spent my early 20's doing what most gay men do in New York City: clubs, bars, and boyfriends.  I never really enjoyed the club or bar scene.  I wasn't exceptionally hot or extroverted or flush with cash.  I didn't enjoy the 'see and be seen,' scene mostly because I didn't relate to it.  To add to the list, I had just ended a long term relationship (for me) of 2&1/2 years.

It took me about 6 months of awkward two-stepping before I felt truly comfortable on the dance-floor.  Then I took off.  I was quickly recruited to join the Manhattan Prairie Dogs, the flamboyantly entertaining dance troupe of the Ranch.  I competed at the annual Hoedowns, eventually becoming the advance line dance champion in 2011.  Jon and Susanna who run the ranch asked to help launch their blog, and I profile dancers in the community for them.  I wanted to capture the spirit of the community somehow.

In early 2011, I noticed a group of new dancers and something felt wrong.  Rob Counce, an extremely charismatic and handsome man who usually taught newbies how to do the barn-dance, was not here.  The barn-dance is a social mixer dance we do after the intermission to get people back on the dance-floor.  Dancers quickly get to dance with a lot of people, and it's often the highlight of the evening.

These new dancers didn't have a teacher for the barn dance.  Without thinking I rallied them into the practice room to show them how it was done.  I couldn't let them leave the ranch without having done the barn-dance, it would be like going to Disney land and forgoing all the rides!  After the barn dance, as they headed out, they sincerely thanked me.  I've been leading the barn-dance lesson since, and it's a wonderful feeling for me: sharing my sense of belonging at the ranch with people who might be on their way to belonging there too.