Mind Over Matter: Attitude and mindset

This is the fifth in a series of blog posts called "Mind Over Matter" that explore the importance and relevance of the psychological aspects of dancing.

In the last posts in this series, I discussed the importance of self-awareness for learning and improving. Having knowledge of your body, how it moves, and the corresponding effects of that movement is what helps us work towards our dance goals.

At the same time, it is important to maintain the right mindset when assessing or analyzing our own movements. When working with students, or sometimes even just dancing with them, I noticed they'll suddenly make a face of disapproval. When I ask what the matter is, I get a response along the lines of, "Oh, I messed up" or "I did that wrong." My partner is chastising herself for doing something other than what she wanted or meant to do.

The problem with this self-reprimanding approach is that it infringes upon our own progress. Our attitude and state of mind are directly associated with our ability to learn. This has been examined with respect to students in other countries who are studying English. One study of students in northern Malaysia found that attitude was significantly correlated with performance in English classes (motivation, however, was not a significant factor in performance). In fact, the more positive their attitude, the better their grades. A similar study also found that attitude was positively correlated with learning English, and even revealed that anxiety significantly and negatively affects learning. So not only does a positive attitude help, but stress and anxiety hinder one's learning.

Carol Dweck, a professor of psychology at Stanford University, studies people's self-conceptions (mindsets) and how they affect their behavior, their achievement, and their success. In her book, Mindset: The New Psychology of Success, she describes two different mindsets: the fixed mindset and the growth mindset. In the former, people believe that their traits and characteristics are fixed, and failures and incompetence are reflections of their deficiencies. In the growth mindset, however, people believe they can develop their traits through passion, education, and persistence, and they see failures as opportunities to learn and grow. They also pursue learning for its own sake, rather than seeking achievement to prove their skill and worth.

When we chastise ourselves for mistakes, we are adopting a negative attitude, and when we get negative about improving, we run the risk of reinforcing a fixed mindset - especially if we focus on our ingrained habits.

The trick is to adopt the growth mindset. To do this, we should first observe our movements objectively, without judgment. Recognize what you did as if it were matter of fact, rather than classifying it as good or bad, right or wrong. Then accept that whatever you observed can be done differently the next time - that the way you've done it in the past is not reflective of who you are or what you are capable of. After all, the truth is that while we may not learn as quickly as we would like, we can in fact learn and improve, with the right combination of motivation, instruction, and perseverance - and mindset.

A negative attitude and a fixed mindset can quickly become a self-fulfilling prophesy, whereas a positive attitude and a growth mindset can accelerate our learning. So stay positive, remember that you have the capacity to grow and improve, and enjoy the process of learning.

When you observe your own dancing, are you positive, negative, or objective? What do you do to stay positive about your progress and adopt a better mindset? Teachers, how do you talk to your students in a way that reinforces a growth mindset?

Mind Over Matter: Know thyself

This is the fourth in a series of blog posts called "Mind Over Matter" that explore the importance and relevance of the psychological aspects of dancing.

In the last two posts in this series, I discussed the challenges of focusing on what not to do and trying to focus on too many things.

Of course, any instruction is ineffective if the student is not in tune with his or her own body. If you can't tell if or when you're doing something right, how can you consistently maintain or practice it?

Self-awareness is vital to self-improvement. Self-awareness informs us when we're doing something wrong, helps us work towards developing a new habit, and hopefully helps us distinguish between the two. Feedback from your partner can be helpful and informative, but it can also be misleading, and it may not help to fix problems. Knowledge of yourself and your own movement provides a different kind of independent feedback that allows for self-correction.

Self-awareness is tied to being present or being in tune with what your body is doing and how it feels. Even if you can't identify what exactly is happening, recognizing how different positions or movements feel is important for making adjustments. And, as with any physical movement, self-awareness requires practice to improve and become more comfortable with it. 

Of course, self-awareness can be a very internally-focused endeavor in a dance that involves a lot of external activities: leading and following, floorcraft, the music, etc. Finding the right balance between internal and external focus can feel schizophrenic. This is why I often suggest students practice self-awareness when practicing by themselves or in class, where the external distractions are limited.

How aware are you of your own movements when you dance? How has this changed over time? What has helped to improve your self-awareness? Teachers, how do you help your students become more self-aware?

Mind Over Matter: Staying focused

This is the third in a series of blog posts called "Mind Over Matter" that explore the importance and relevance of the psychological aspects of dancing.

The previous post in this series looked at the danger of focusing on what not to do. Another common problem with the way we're taught is that we're often given too many things to focus on.

Focus is a critical skill needed for advancing our dancing. It's how we train our bodies to develop new habits that replace the old ones. By focusing on continually and consistently doing something new, we learn to retrain our bodies, building muscle memory and a higher skill level that makes the new behavior become a habit - something we don't need to focus on any longer. However, without focusing on new behaviors, we're bound to continue repeating our old ones.

At the same time, the human brain can only focus on one thing at a time, and multitasking has negative effects on our ability to pay attention, control memories, and switch between tasks. So how can we make progress on any one thing when we're trying to work on several at once? How do we focus when there are half a dozen priorities?

It's hard enough to focus at all, given all the distractions while we're dancing. It's too easy to just revert to our usual dancing and not focus on anything. So imagine the challenge when we're given a laundry list of things to work on.

Learning to focus is important for progress, as is knowing what to focus on. Getting to the root cause of our problems and finding the right solution is sometimes difficult but makes learning and improving so much easier. And a good solution is something that addresses root causes while being easy for the mind to focus on. After all, if we can't focus on it, then we can't do it consistently enough to make it into a habit.

How do you stay focused on building new skills? How does staying focused affect your dancing? How do you prioritize what you work on? And teachers, how much do you consider your students' ability to focus when giving feedback or things for them to work on?

Detachable feet

Last week I wrote about how we become pattern dancers and the effects that has on our relationship to our partner and to the music. Just as we tend to get locked into patterns, we also get locked into specific rhythm patterns with our feet.

A rhythm pattern is a specific sequence of doubles and triples that forms the foundation for patterns. For example, the rhythm pattern for a six-count pattern is double-triple-triple. These rhythms are fundamental to our dance and are closely tied to the execution of patterns.

However, we spend so much time working on rhythm patterns that we can have difficulty breaking out of them. When we attempt syncopations or a change of rhythm with our feet it can be disruptive to our movement and to our partnership. Our bodies become highly dependent on our feet, sometimes to the point that we are moving from our feet instead of our centers. This isn't entirely surprising, given the strong emphasis on when and where to put your feet in dance classes. After all, how we talk about the dance influences where we focus our dancing.

Learning to decouple footwork from movement frees us up to be musical with our feet without interrupting the flow of the dance. It allows us to take advantage of our feet as instruments of expression, particularly when the partnership demands attention of our bodies and a continuity of movement. Besides, being able to separate our footwork from our movement is indicative of a higher level of dancing, where the center drives the body and we don't need to be mentally focused on our feet.

Do you find that you have to focus on your feet when breaking out of a standard rhythm pattern? Are you able to let your feet play without disrupting your movement or the partnership? What have you learned about footwork and rhythms that has made things easier or more difficult for you? Teachers, how do you talk about footwork in your classes and how do you help your students get comfortable with their footwork?

Choose Your Own Adventure

When we learn patterns, we learn them from start to finish. We're shown the beginning, the middle, and the end and how they flow together. We learn them with a set rhythm, a set timing, a set progression.

And that's the problem. Patterns are taught as whole units with a prescribed beginning, middle, and end. Once a leader starts, he moves towards the end that he was taught follows the beginning. And followers in the same class also develop the same expectation, which is only reinforced when the leader does as he was taught. In this way, both leaders and followers become what we call "pattern dancers."

And so we usually know the end when we get started. As a result, we lose a sense of spontaneity and we take away creative opportunities - opportunities to engage with our partners and to respond to the music. If both partners know the set pattern, it's all too easy to disengage from your partner and just go through the motions. After all, you don't need their guidance or assistance because you already know the end of the story. And of course set patterns may or may not fit the music well, but if the partners aren't open to new endings, then they each take away the chance to adapt to what they're hearing.

I don't often teach patterns anymore, but when I do, I try to teach at least two or three similar "patterns" but each with some unique variation. (Think of whip variations.) It helps the leaders to disconnect beginnings from ends and see that each is an element that can be pieced together in different ways. It also tests their ability to lead - both in terms of thinking on their feet as well as seeing the options and executing clearly. For followers, they are programmed to pay attention, expect the unexpected, to not know the ending, and therefore to be open to more possibilities. This makes them stronger followers and better partners.

For me, much of the joy of West Coast Swing is in the spontaneous creation between the partners with the music, but to have this we need to break down patterns into elements of movement and to be open to piecing them together in different ways. That way together we get to choose our own adventure as we go along.

How have you been taught patterns and how has it affected your dancing? Do you notice pattern dancers while you're dancing, either in yourself or your partners? Teachers, do you pay attention to how the way you teach patterns affects your students' dancing? Do you have methods to help avoid training them to become pattern dancers?

Mind Over Matter: Don't not do that...

This is the second in a series of blog posts called "Mind Over Matter" that explore the importance and relevance of the psychological aspects of dancing.

In my first post in this series, I discussed the amazing influence of the mind over the body, particularly in how the mind can interrupt what we might otherwise do well.

An important element that affects the way we dance is the way we learn to dance. In recent months I've been thinking more and more about how the way this dance is taught in our community is often detrimental to our mastery of it. Our bodies know how to do some things naturally and yet the way we talk about the dance sets up a mental frame of reference that gets in the way of that. 

One key component to this mental paradigm is our focus on what not to do. We all know this line of thinking. We're told to not do something that we're doing wrong, and the focus is on undoing a bad habit. A prime example is tight arms, the solution to which is to relax them.

There are a two main problems with this method of instruction. The first is that when the mind is focused on a particular body part, we tend to engage that part most. Think about exercising. If you've done any weight training or yoga or Pilates, you know that where you concentrate is where you will work the hardest. This is especially true of compound exercises, where more than one muscle group is engaged. The muscle you think about while exercising is the muscle you will engage the most. It's not because you're doing anything to consciously engage that muscle more. Rather, it's a subconscious reaction to where your mind is focused. So when you think about relaxing tight arms, you are actually more likely to perpetuate the problem rather than solve it.


Another problem is that knowing what not to do doesn't always tell you what to do. If I said, of all numbers from 1 to 100, don't pick 56, that's helpful to a point, but it doesn't tell you which of the other 99 numbers to choose. Likewise, telling you to relax your arms is somewhat helpful, but in essence, it's the same thing as saying "don't be tight" - it doesn't tell you what you should be doing differently in a constructive way.

I've found that good teachers will redirect your attention to solutions that help you develop new habits, rather than simply telling you to not do something. And good students ask their teachers for constructive problems, trying to understand, "If not 56, then which number is it?"

What habits have you tried to overcome with the instruction of "don't do that" and did it work? Was there some other helpful instruction that allowed you to undo your bad habit? Teachers, do you provide constructive advice that helps your students develop new habits to replace the old bad ones? How do you communicate that advice to your students? Post your responses below!

Leading and following naturally

My apologies for the long silence, but as many of you know, my life has gone through a lot of change over the last few months. I'm happy to say that I'm back online and I've got a backlog of posts awaiting your reading and feedback! - Eric

Anyone who has ever walked somewhere with someone else already knows how to lead and follow. And if you've ever walked down the street holding someone's hand, then you know how to lead and follow... while holding someone's hand.

If you've done this you know how to move in a way that guides the other person and in a way that responds to another person - without forcing them, without manhandling them, without hanging onto them. You already know how to move yourself in a way that communicates with someone else without using words.

It's my belief that the reason so many people struggle with lead and follow is because we as dance teachers give them all sorts of information that distracts from what they already know. We focus you on how to hold hands, how to hold your arms, where to lead, and where to put your feet. Plus, we teach classes focused on patterns, where the leader learns how to move the follower and the follower learns to do what he wants. The result is a mindset in which "leading" becomes equated with "dictating" and "following" means "being forced."

I started working with my students last month to shift the current paradigm, attempting to define "leading" and "following" as something other than "move" and "be moved." For the leaders, we looked at the physical change in leading that results when you think of it as "inviting" - invite the follower to go down the slot, invite the follower to go under your arm, invite the follower in and back out. The body movement is the same, but nature and feel is more relaxed, more natural, and, well, more inviting. For the followers, we looked at just going where you were being directed. The followers assume the responsibility of moving themselves, which improves their posture, balance, and ultimately their body flight. It also takes the mental focus off of the leader and puts it more on what they feel, which helps to avoid anticipation and anxiety about what is being led. The result for both partners is more in line with what we do naturally when we guide and are guided through physical contact.

It never ceases to amaze me how much our mindset affects and influences how our bodies move and react. By returning to what our bodies already know, and adopting a different mindset about what it means to lead and follow, we can establish a more relaxed, trusting, and stable partnership, which opens the possibilities for collaboration and creativity.

How do you think of leading and following based on what you've learned? How does this new paradigm above make you think about your role in the dance? Teachers, what do you think about leading and following and does the way you teach reinforce that idea or something else?

Mind Over Matter: Walk This Way

This is the first in a series of blog posts called "Mind Over Matter" that explore the importance and relevance of the psychological aspects of dancing.
 
As any of my students can tell you, I often say that dance is half mental. Well, I'm not sure if it's actually half, but I do believe that the mental aspect of the dance is as important - if not more important - than the physical aspect.

I think one of the most basic illustrations of this idea is how difficult it can be for students to master some of the fundamentals of movement. I have yet to encounter someone who walks into class leading with their feet, or leaning back, or walking from her hips. Even when asked to walk backwards, while they may lead with the feet, most people rarely lean backwards while doing so. So why is it that when dancing, people often have so many problems with posture and movement?

I often feel that my job as a dance instructor is to remind people how to walk. After all, my students already know how to walk - to move from their centers with good posture. They don't need to learn anything new; their bodies already know the basic mechanics of the dance. And let's be honest: there's no dance closer to walking than West Coast Swing.

What then prevents the student from successful dancing? I would argue that the mind gets in the way of the body doing what it already knows. Because students have expectations of what dancing should look and feel like, they make changes to their body mechanics in an effort to achieve certain physical feelings, or they make changes to how they move because they are distracted by a partner or the music. The mind, in short, interferes with and overrides what the body does automatically, distracting it and redirecting it in ways that it often doesn't even realize.

How important do you think the mind is in learning to dance? What experiences have you had with conflicts between brain and body? Have you been able to use your mind to help you improve your dancing? Teachers, how do you tackle this challenge and what has been most successful for your students?

Round and round

People just can't get enough of turns. Guys lead 'em all the time (some more than they should) and ladies are fixated on them - learning them, working on them, mastering the really difficult ones (like the ubiquitous yet frequently unnecessary one-footed skater spin).

With so much turning going on, and so many spins and turns classes, and so many private lessons dedicated to the subject, it's a wonder that so few people really excel at turns - either following them or leading them. Sure, there are plenty of naturally gifted dancers, or those who somehow get it right, or those who have years of classical training under their belts. But there are lots of people who don't have these advantages and still struggle to follow or lead turns comfortably and satisfactorily.

In pretty much every spins and turns class I've seen, I've watched as the instructor explained in great detail where to put your feet, how to turn on the ball of your foot, and how to execute the timing of your footwork. The thing is, we don't turn from our feet. We turn from the same place we always do: our centers. And so teachers make lots of corrections - to your posture, to your arms, to your hips, to your shoulders, to your knees, etc. And then we as teachers expect you to make all of these corrections, even as we pull your brains in half a dozen different directions. Doesn't that sound easy?

It's not that your footwork isn't important. It is. Along with all the other corrections any good teacher will make. It's just that focusing on the center can in and of itself fix a lot of the other problems that dancers have with their turns: incorrect posture, being off balance, tension in the arms and shoulders, not traveling down the slot, slowing down during turns, and many more.

So how do you focus on your center when doing turns? Thinking about the preparation, execution, and finishing of turns in this dance, I would suggest three key pieces of advice:

1. Move your center down the slot to make sure your weight is forward over your feet and to establish linear momentum that will carry you down the slot while you turn.
2. Turn your belly button around during the turn to ensure you're turning from your core and maintaining your momentum through the turn.
3. Take your center back at the end of the turn to fix any misalignment of your posture, secure your center over your foot, and prepare to anchor.

Spotting your leader will also help (I suggest a soft spot as opposed to the whiplash-inducing hard spot), as will prepping with the center (reaching the sternum forward to expand the ribs in a way that moves your arms outward). Both of these techniques amplify the movement of the center through the rotation.

The center should also be the focus for leaders. At the start of the pattern, leaders should provide a clear linear body lead down the slot before leading any turns or rotation. The prep should then be led from the center, and while the turn will be executed using the arms, the arms should gently guide and shape the follower's movement rather than changing or disrupting it. In short, the leader should do the least necessary with the arms, always guiding the follower down the slot with his center, and always paying attention - to her feet, to her balance, and to her timing for multiple turns.

What do you think of focusing on the center instead of other areas for improving turns? What issues do you face with your own turns and how might focusing on the center improve them? How were you taught to turn or to lead turns? Teachers, what is your approach to teaching turns? What techniques or exercises have you found most effective for your students?

You wanna know the Big Secret?

What's the difference between an average dancer and a really good dancer? If both do the same patterns and movements, why does one look smooth and graceful and the other less so?

Sure, one is more technically proficient than the other, and one makes nicer lines than the other, but if you ask me, the difference is really rooted in one particular aspect of technique: moving from the center.

In the past, I have often tackled multiple aspects of technique that I believe make for better dancing, but I have found that each of these can draw the student's mind in a different direction, making it more difficult to achieve any significant progress in one's overall dancing. It's like moving one part of a Rubik's cube, only to discover that you now have to move even more pieces into place. However, in recent years I've found that getting the student to focus on the center produces much faster results and tends to improve many different aspects at once.

Earlier this week, I taught a class designed to enhance the students' connection by working on moving from the center. We looked at how to improve body lead and follow at the beginning, middle, and end of basic patterns. At the beginning of the pattern, we focused on both partners moving from the center first. For leaders, this means moving the center before the hand, moving backwards from the center. For followers, we worked on moving the center forward before the foot. In the middle of patterns, we looked at continuing the motion initiated at the beginning of the pattern. For leaders, this translates to pointing your center where you want the follower to end up, and for followers, it means continuing down the slot, keeping your center ahead of your feet, and making sure your center is following your hand. And at the end of the pattern, we looked at moving backwards into extension, where both partners move their centers back while maintaining correct posture.

The idea is simple; the execution is not. Of course, nearly all students walk into class with the right technique. And so, as I often say, it is our job as teachers to remind the students how to walk, that dancing is really just "walking... with style" - and no dance more so than West Coast Swing.

What do you think about moving from the center being the root of so many issues? What problems does this not fix? How have you improved your ability to move from the center and what have the results been? Teachers, how do you work on this with your students?

What is "better dancing"?

Lately I've been thinking more about what to teach in order to help my students become better dancers. This, of course, leads to the question: What does "better dancing" mean?

If we think about what "dancing" or "partner dancing" means, I think we can all agree that we want to be someone that everyone enjoys dancing with - someone with whom people feel good dancing, with whom people want to dance again and again. Sure, there's a lot involved in that - partnership, musicality, technique - but it is a good North Star towards which we can orient our learning. (And also a goal that is both noble and, in some ways, measurable.)

In our effort to become "better dancers" we set lots of different goals for ourselves. It's good to have goals, both immediate and long-term. In fact, it's not only good, but I would argue it's necessary if you want to improve. After all, if you're not working at getting better, then you're just doing more of the same, which is only maintaining the status quo. If you want to change something, you have to actively do something about it.

But equally important is knowing what to do to reach our goals, and what to do is wholly dependent on what your goal is. If you know what you're aiming for, then you can set some concrete long-term goals and determine some specific and immediate steps to get you there.

Sometimes we set broader, long-term goals, like "be really musical" or "be a champion dancer" or, sometimes, "dance like [so-and-so]." Sometimes we work on more specific and immediate goals (which are often suggested by our instructors), like "stand up straighter" or "relax my arm" or "practice this footwork variation."

Yet I sometimes find that there is a disconnect between our immediate focus and our ultimate goal. As a teacher, I ask students in private lessons what their ultimate goals are, because I believe that should inform the more specific "homework" I give them. For every goal there are certain steps I would recommend to getting there. So if you want to be a better dancer, you should first think about what that means to you.

So, what do you think it means to be a "better dancer"? What are your goals and how do you plan on getting there? What are you working on now and how will that get you towards your goals?

Words, words, words

Hi all - Sorry for the long silence, though as many of you already know, I recently relocated from Boston to the San Francisco Bay Area. This post is one I've been meaning to finish up, but my next one - as promised to my students in Boston - will discuss the material I presented in my last classes at Arlington. Appropriately enough, I'm posting this Tuesday night, when I would normally be teaching... I hope you enjoy this blog, and please share it with other dancers! Thanks, Eric

The role of a teacher is not simply to share information, but to ensure that the information is absorbed, processed, and acted upon in the right way. Teaching, then, is all about communication - conveying a message in the appropriate manner so that the audience not only receives the message but understands it as it was intended.

A big part of communications is picking the right language to package and transmit the message. Good teachers know that students are coming into class with a preexisting understanding of the world, with preassigned meanings to certain words or concepts. For instance, students have a preconceived notion of what good posture is, what the word "connection" means, and even what it means to dance. To effectively teach the student, you must first understand what the student knows - and how s/he knows it. This is difficult for experienced dancers, given that they have the curse of knowledge.

Nevertheless, teachers throw around words like "frame" and "posture" and "step" without ever clearly defining what these terms mean in dance. It is particularly important to define terms for which the students may already have a preconceived notion or definition. When you ask a beginner student what he thinks of when he hears the word "frame," odds are he will think of something like a hard, stiff, outside border. Unfortunately, this is contrary to what the student is aiming to achieve in dance - relaxed, soft arms.

Even worse, I've seen great dancers and admired teachers use words like "pull" and "push" to describe how to lead. Not surprisingly, I see the leaders in class use their arms to pull and push their followers through patterns. It's not what the teacher meant, but because he used the words "pull" and "push," and because the students already had their own meaning of what those words meant, the students interpreted the teacher in their own way. The result? Arms leads and an uncomfortable follower.

The trouble is that in dance we use certain words or phrases that have a meaning outside of dance, and if the two conflict, it is up to the teacher to help the student understand the meaning in dance - and how it differs from the standard definition. This is critical to the student's ability to succeed, since how we understand the dance determines what we set out to achieve.


What words or phrases did you struggle with while learning to dance? What terms does your instructor use now that you don't fully understand? Teachers, how do you ensure that your students understand what you say the way you meant it? What terms do you think teachers should do a better job of explaining to ensure the student learns properly?

Contradiction in terms

It happens more often than it should, to the detriment of the student, that two conflicting pieces of information are presented by two different teachers. This presents the student with a dilemma: in the pursuit of the "right" or "best" way of doing things, which one to choose?

I would argue that these types of conflicts are really simple misunderstandings. Contradictions are often either 1) two different ways of approaching the same fundamental idea, or 2) complementary rather than contradictory, usually a difference between technique and style.

For example, consider the notion of two centers. Skippy Blair is a prominent instructor who has done more than anyone else to create effective teaching tools for important technique and mechanics. Personally, I think she's fantastic, and I think she has a gift for being able to communicate complex topics into easy-to-apply exercises (though I should note that I don't always agree with the technique or ideas she teaches).

Skippy teaches that there are two centers: the Center of Mass (CM), located somewhere around the hips, and the Center Point of Balance (CPB), the point from which we move, located higher near the diaphragm. Like any good teacher, she helps the student to understand these concepts through practical exercises.

On the other hand, Mario Robau, an amazing dancer and an incredible teacher with a real gift for breaking things down into information people can readily digest, argues that there's only one center, since, after all, it's the center, which logically means there's only one.

So who's right?

I would argue that they both are. Mario is technically right: there is only one center to a given object, human or otherwise. And it is from this center that we move. However, we move from our center with forward pitch, meaning that our upper body is set slightly in front of our lower body (this is true both forwards and backwards). Thus, the two center explanation has great value as a teaching tool for people to mentally understand proper posture and pitch and translate it into a physical response. One teacher gave the straight truth, the other gave advice to produce a specific desired outcome. Both are being effective teachers in their own way.

Another seeming contradiction: heel first or toe first when walking forward. From a strictly mechanical perspective, as far as I'm concerned, this is a no-brainer: heel first. Why? Because that is how your body naturally moves, was designed to move, and how your body facilitates forward movement by rolling through the foot.

So why would someone teach toe-first? Simple: styling. Some people think it makes a nicer line to have a straight leg, others may think the music calls for it. The truth is that as long as you're moving from your center and your feet are underneath you when you transfer weight, it doesn't really matter whether you go heel first or toe first. They aren't contradicting - it's just two different ways of moving, one being the basic mechanics of walking and the other a stylization.

What other contradictions have you come across while learning to dance? Where does there seem to be a contradiction that is really two ways of approaching the same thing? Where does there seem to be a contradiction that is really the difference between fundamental technique and advanced style? Teachers, how do you reconcile the difference when asked about contradictions?

Looks aren't everything... right?

Ever notice how good looking people tend to become better dancers faster? Or maybe it's that better dancers are just better looking?

Could be just me, but it seems like young, attractive people move up the ranks pretty quickly - more quickly than others, sometimes more quickly than perhaps they should. Sure, there happen to be a lot of young, attractive dancers with a lot of talent, but it still raises some questions about how someone gets better and at what rate.

One could argue that attractive people get better faster because more people ask them to dance. Or maybe they have more confidence and thus are willing to take risks and try new things and become more expressive. Maybe they gain more confidence as they improve, and their confidence is what makes them seem more attractive. Or maybe as they get better they adopt the fashion trends and dress themselves better. Or maybe they just look better or our eyes are drawn to watching them simply because they are more attractive.

The flip side is that people who are better dancers may just be more attractive. A study was done demonstrating just that, and how dancing can be used as a demonstration of genetic fitness, helping us to choose a mate. So maybe the better you are, the more attractive you seem. The pros all seem to be pretty good looking, but maybe we just think that because of their dancing. Would the pros be as attractive if it weren't for the way they can move?

In competition, looks can certainly play a factor: how you dress, how you present yourself, your attitude, your level of confidence - all of which can also make you more or less attractive. Studies have shown that the part of the brain that ultimately makes decisions is the primitive brain, the part that makes decisions based on primal needs related to survival. We know that while judging is based on certain criteria, there is also a high degree of intuition and emotion that goes into deciding what's good dancing and what's not. So despite our rational thoughts about technique and artistry, are judges letting their primal interests sway their judgment? Are judges ultimately making decisions based on their primal desire to procreate? The pretty ones get chosen because we would like to mate with them? What about judges who are the same sex as those they are judging? Are they also judging based on primal instincts, but making decisions not out of a desire to procreate but based on a fear of competition? The pretty ones are competition for mates, so they should be punished/eliminated? And if both forces are at work, shouldn't they balance out so that attractive people do no better or worse than less attractive people?

Thinking about the last competition I went to, it's probably just an illusion. If physical attractiveness were objectively measured, there's probably just as many unattractive people in any division as attractive ones. Still, in a world as social as that of the social dances, attractiveness is likely to play as strong a role as it does in the rest of society. The "halo effect" is a cognitive bias whereby the perception of some positive quality (like attractiveness) gives rise to the perception of similar positive qualities. In this case, people who are attractive may be perceived to be "better" or more qualified than they actually are. Is this same principle being applied to dance? To what extent? What can or should be done about it, or is this just part of the world we live and dance in?

The mystery of frame

(Hi all - Apologies for the silence these past few weeks. My day job was eating up a lot of my time and I had to put this aside. However, I am now back and will post new entries more frequently, at least once or twice a week. Thanks for reading and responding! - Eric)

How many times have you heard an instructor use the word "frame" in a dance class? No doubt, plenty of times.

And how many times have you been told to "maintain your frame" or "don't break frame" by an instructor? We all have at some time or another.

Now how many times have you heard a dance instructor actually give a definition of the word "frame" in a dance class? Think carefully. My guess is, for most of you, the answer is: never.

Think about what "frame" means to you, then post your best definitions here on this blog. What is the definition you know? What is the definition you use to dance? What is the definition of frame you use to teach? Share your answers here!

New Year's Resolutions

It's that time of year: time to think about what we hope to achieve by this time next year.

I've had dance resolutions before, some I've met and others I haven't. They are all personal goals and they are all personal goals related to competition: making finals in my division, placing in the top three, moving out of a division, etc.

When making New Year's resolutions, it helps to have "SMART" goals: specific, measurable, attainable, realistic, and time-bound. I mean, I can say I want to be a world champion in three months, but odds are that's a foolish resolution that will not be achieved. So we strive to set some goals for ourselves that can be met, that can be measured, and that can be achieved within a year's time.

Which is why, I suppose, I set my goals based on competition. It's hard for me to say, "I'll be better at whips" or "Add more level changes to my dancing." I suppose I could find an objective way to measure that (tape my dancing and record the number of "good" whips or level changes) but in many ways these goals remain subjective and/or difficult to measure. Competition, however, provides concrete measurements of my progress. Or does it?

Competition itself is subjective, and there's a danger in judging our own dancing based on such an arena. Competition is another animal altogether, separate from social dancing, with a particular required skill set and its own set of values, all based solely on how you look. Does it provide some benchmarks? Sure. Do we aspire to be better competitors? Perhaps. Should competition be our only goals? I hope not.

Some people set specific goals like, "Be able to do 3 finger spins in a row," which is specific, measurable, and perhaps realistic. But do these skills alone capture what we hope to be as dancers? I mean, what about feeling good? What about making our partners feel good? What about being better leaders or followers or being better at covering mistakes and making the dance work? What about being nicer, on the floor and off? What about fostering a greater sense of community, helping newcomers and reaching out to people we don't know?

I offer this challenge: make resolutions for 2010, but keep in mind what kind of dancer you want to be and what kind of dance you want to create.

For me, sure, I want to be more expressive, I want to dance more through my patterns, I want to play with level changes, I'd like to discover some new "wow" moves, and, for goodness' sake, I want to make finals in California some day. But I also want to dance with someone new (or someone I haven't danced with in the last month) every time I go out, I want to dance with more newcomers, I want to dance with more people from different cities when I'm at events, and I want to make my partner smile at least once during each and every dance.

What are your dance resolutions for 2010?

The Curse of Knowledge

I recently picked up "Made To Stick" by Chip and Dan Heath. The book explores why and how certain ideas "stick" and others don't. One of the obstacles they cite to creating simple, sticky messages is the Curse of Knowledge: "Once we know something, we find it hard to imagine what it was like not to know it.... And it becomes difficult for us to share our knowledge with others, because we can't readily re-create our listeners' state of mind."

I vaguely remember being a non-dancer (it was about a decade ago). I have this faint memory of watching people dancing in a swing class and thinking, "Wow, that's awesome! I wish I could do that!" but I had no idea what exactly they were doing. I remember too the first time I watched top dancers and could actually identify what they were dancing: a whip variation, a tuck variation, etc. My perspective would never be the same again.

Oftentimes during my dance career I have taken pause - either out of frustration with my own dancing or the scene as a whole - and tried to recall why it is I started doing this crazy dance thing in the first place. I wanted to have fun, to express music with my body, and my objective with each dance was simply to make the follower smile. Ah, those were the days. Of course, with time, my knowledge changed, and with it, my perspective and my objectives. Nothing wrong with that - it's part of the natural learning curve and evolution of any dancer - but now I have the Curse of Knowledge.

I've seen many teachers - usually fantastic dancers who don't teach regularly but others too - who teach well beyond the level of comprehension of their students: a symptom of the Curse of Knowledge. They are so knowledgeable that they fail to see things from a beginner's perspective, and they don't speak in a manner appropriate for beginners. They assume their students have the same knowledge and understanding of the dance that they do and they miss the simple, basic points that the students need to hear and learn most.

We all have the Curse of Knowledge - and the curse cannot be undone: I cannot unlearn something I've already learned. Can you remember what it was like to be a beginner? What were your perceptions? What was difficult for you to understand? What do you think are the key ideas and messages teachers should be focusing on for beginners?

Teachers, are you really looking at your lessons from the perspective of your students? Do you get trapped by the Curse of Knowledge? (Don't we all, sometimes?) How can you reshape your lessons to focus on just one or two simple, key messages in each class?