I never would have guessed my son would be in hip-hop – yet, here we are! Yesterday I attended the year-end performance, with around 43 different routines of which he was in only one. My congratulations to the organizers and trainers: the show was magnificent.
Hip hop dance entered popular culture when I was around the age my sons are now. Following disco, it was new and hard to define – except that it was totally different from what I’d seen before. Doubtless, in the big American cities, it was much better understood. I saw it on a few videos, which themselves were “new”.
I never received any dance training as a kid; I played piano instead. When my eleven year old son joined hip-hop last fall, we didn’t know if he’d commit to it. True, he did dance at home, sometimes for hours.
Well, at first, his interest seemed lukewarm. A couple of times I went along; my younger son, my wife and I would relax in a room with plush couches and colourful walls while my older son had his dance class. We could hear them working out the routine, but couldn’t see; their studio was a few doors down the hallway.
I loved hanging out in the lounge. Dancers would come and go, paying us no attention; they’d practice their routines or talk about school and such.
Paul’s interest vibrated between “a little less” and “a little more” until sometime in the spring. Eventually I was able to go along more often. As the nights got warmer and brighter, he’d come out for water, panting and sweating. Sometimes his teacher would talk to us. Paul, it seemed, was finding his rhythm.
Around a month ago, Paul tried out for next year’s competitive team (this year was recreational) and made it. Away we go.
To all the dancers in the year-end performance: thank you for the amazing show. Your professionalism was truly impressive.
Here’s a generic performer.