The Spirit of Lindy Hop

Anyone who has been a part of the Lindy Hop community for long enough will have heard of Ryan Francois. Many of us may have met him or had dance lessons with him. Not quite so many of us will have had the opportunity of spending a two-hour car journey with him. This happened to me at the end of a dancing weekend workshop when I found myself giving the great man himself a lift from Southampton to Bristol.

We had fascinating conversations. The most memorable, for me, was one where we discussed the subject of beginners being afraid to dance with the top teachers. He told me that the problem with being at the top was that everyone was afraid of dancing with him. Therefore, who could he dance with? He summed it all up by saying this:

Levels are only for classes. When we are on the dance floor, everyone is equal. If someone says to me, “I’m sorry. I don’t know many moves,” I tell them, “That’s ok. What’s your name?”

This is what our community is about. It’s not just about getting better at Lindy Hop or the social side with friends you have already made. It’s also about helping and encouraging those who are finding their feet (in more ways than one) in, what can seem initially, to be a daunting new world.

I can remember being nervous about getting close to the girls (I’m very conscious of social rules regarding personal space), being nervous about appearing inept and I was conscious of letting other people down by not being able to give them a good dancing experience. We all have to start somewhere. Every experienced dancer you see out there was a beginner once – even Ryan.

For me, part of what I enjoy in our community is helping out the beginners. I’m just as happy (possibly more so) with helping out new starters and showing them some footwork or teaching them the principles behind leading and following, as I am with having a great dancing experience with a well-seasoned dancer. The regular dance class that I attend has a beginners’ class to start with, followed by an intermediate/advanced class. I almost always turn up early enough for the beginners’ class just to help them along the way. I remember how valuable it was for me when I was at that stage. I can remember almost giving up.

Between the two classes, there is always some music being played so that people can practise moves. I can remember a new member who was struggling with the basic steps. I took her aside and we repeated the steps over and over for about ten minutes until she completely grasped them. She told me that I had saved her from going home and crying. It’s possible that she may never have come back. I remember feeling that same despair when I first started. I see her regularly now and her dancing is developing very nicely. This is what our community is about. People don’t look down their noses at the new starters (well, I suppose there are always one or two, but that’s life I guess, and they find themselves not being popular in the community). Instead, beginners are always welcome, with all their inexperience and ineptitudes, as a part of the community.

I’m not a natural dancer, and I’ll never be a top class lindy hopper, but I can give a girl a pretty good spin around the dance floor on most occasions. And I can adapt to other people’s levels if they are below mine. I recognise that I don’t even need to be a top class lindy hopper. Not everybody can be. But I love to pay back into the community what was given to me when I first started.

Ryan encapsulated the spirit of Lindy Hop when he said that on the dance floor we are all equal. It is what it’s all about. It’s all about having fun, and you rarely see a lindy hopper who isn’t smiling.