Are We Losing Our Essence to the Mainstream?
By Taaj
When I first started dancing nine years ago, there
weren't many places to find costumes. Workshops were a
rare and special treat. Videos were available but high
priced. Shows were virtually non-existent and the
audience was almost solely populated by other dancers.
Most people I knew had never seen a belly dancer. Those
who wanted it had to seek it out.
Belly dance attracted so many women to it because you
didn't have to start as a child to be accomplished at
it. You didn't have to be wafer thin to look good
doing it. It had the power to enhance self-esteem. It
helped dancers connect to their inner feelings, their
femininity and each other. It could be a bonding
experience and a celebration of real womanhood, not
some unattainable ideal. As we reach the mainstream,
all that seems to have taken a back seat.
Now people flock to it to learn how to shake it like
Shakira. Hakim and Belly Dance Super Stars have
brought the dance to the masses and now it's rare to
meet someone who has not at least seen a belly dancer
on tv. Multiple restaurants have dancing. The audience
is mainly the general public. Instructional videos can
be bought at Walmart for $19.99, and classes can be
routinely found in dance studios, YWCAs, recreation
centers, and yoga studios. It's a booming business,
but there are some drawbacks. I see the
commercialization and mainstreaming of belly dance
eroding away some of what attracts women to the dance.
As a teacher, my job is to provide technical, cultural
and historical instruction. I nurture the student so
that she feels comfortable expressing her art and
feelings in the style that fits her. As a talent
agent, my job is to provide the client with the type
of entertainment that she desires. This is where the
conflict begins.
More and more I get calls where the client asks three
things: how old is the dancer, is she pretty, and how
much does she weigh? There is no getting around it.
The market wants young, thin, attractive talent. If
she looks Middle Eastern, that's even better. They
never ask, "Is she a good dancer?"
I understand the reality of business, but how am I
supposed to go back to my student and say, "Sorry
sister. You can't dance with us this time because
you're too fat, not pretty enough or are too old"?
That flies in the face of all we are taught to believe
about belly dance being good for the soul. I like that
there is a place in the world where women can go
without fear of being judged for their looks, age, or
ability. The mainstreaming of belly dance has opened a
lot of doors, but I hope that being popular never
means that we sacrifice our acceptance and respect for
womanhood in all its glory. What a shame that would
be.