So you think you can (break)dance?

When I first noticed that Belmont would be hosting a breakdancing class, I have to admit I was pretty darn excited. Despite being aware that I lacked coordination, agility, balance and other skills I knew were essential to learning even the basics of breakdancing, I was nevertheless eager to try my hand at this totally new activity. If Belmont was hosting a breakdancing class, maybe it wouldn’t be that hard to pick up. I tried to resist the unrealistic visions of myself expertly breakdancing in my head, but they were overwhelming. I had to try this for myself.

Arriving at the first breakdancing class in the Beaman group fitness room, it took me about five seconds to realize I was in trouble. I guess I should have known that a dance class of any kind would attract people who could actually dance, and not just people like me, with zero dance talent and little drive to learn choreographed dances. Unfortunately, the only dance experience I had was a year-long class I took when I was in kindergarten. And to be honest, that wasn’t so much a dance class as it was a “creative movement” class called Imagination in Motion, taught by a sweet elderly woman.

Much to my delight though, this breakdancing class was taught by a charming Frenchman, Djamel Toubrinet, who just happened to be a two-time world champion breakdancer. The class began with a fairly simple warm-up, followed by a not-so-simple (at least not for me) choreographed routine. We were told what we were learning was “top rock,” which to the best of my knowledge is breakdancing that involves very little time on the floor.
By the end of the first class, I was tired, sore and fairly convinced that I would not be returning to next week’s breakdancing session. For reasons I cannot explain, however, I was back the next week. Something just told me I couldn’t give up this class without a fight. (Plus, it was almost worth going just to see Djamel show off cool and impossible-looking breakdancing moves before class.)

The second class was similar to the first, but more crowded, so it was difficult to see the steps I was supposed to memorize. This new dance was also more challenging, and no amount of determination would allow me to keep up with the experienced dancers. By the end of class, though, we got to try something I was really eager to attempt: freezes—those cool, contorted positions breakdancers freeze themselves into on the ground. Amazingly, more than half of the class was able to perform at least some kind of freeze. I, of course, was not.

The second breakdancing class of the semester would turn out to be my last. The moral of this story is that there is no shame in giving up when you are truly terrible at something and have no desire to improve.