accessibility · fitness · inclusiveness

Moving back into the world but who are we leaving behind?

Today I posted on Twitter.

And then Pandemic Dark Dance posted to Facebook, “Tomorrow Night… Hopefully the last online Pandemidarkdance for a long while. I fully expect all 600-some members to login for it. We can’t take 600 requests, but we can take a few. You got any? Next Thursday (17th) we’ll be back in the Owls club, like olden times… Like nothing had ever happened… save for the vax check, tea-light squares, and the entry and exit wearing of masks…”

So we’re moving our fitness lives back into the world and the online options are closing down. Mostly (see above) I’m thrilled about that. I’m back at the gym I’m doing in person yoga again.

But who is being left behind?

I’m struggling with this in the university context too, trying to balance accessibility concerns, with wanting to be back on campus for in person learning.

It’s not just about being high risk for covid, or having perfectly reasonable concerns about social gathering when the pandemic isn’t over. There are also disability access needs that have been met during the pandemic. In addition, there’s the rural/small town/big city divide. I remember, in the early days of social media, when online friends in big cities would talk about getting off LiveJournal or Friendster or Facebook in favour of in person friends in the real world. I’d point out that their real world looked different than mine. I didn’t have the same access to in person events that they did.

So too with Dark Dancing.

What is Dark Dancing anyway?

Elan blogged about it here.

From the No Lights, No Lycra page:

“WE DANCE IN THE DARK IN MORE THAN 75 LOCATIONS AROUND THE WORLD AND WE’VE BEEN DOING IT SINCE 2009! We turn off the lights and crank up the tunes to release our inhibitions, move our moods and work up a wild sweat – all completely sober. We are mums, dads, students, lawyers and baristas, from 12 to 100 years old. We all have one thing in common; in the dark we come alive, shake the blues away and get lost in the music….We grew from a small gathering in Melbourne into a global community, simply because joy is contagious, and people love to dance. Lights Out, Let’s Dance – there’s room for you on our dance floor. 

When the pandemic hit, dark dancing took off in peoples’ homes. If you use Spotify there are more than 300 No Lights No Lyrca playlists. I can’t dance due to my knees but these playlists have saved my life on the bike these past two years.

So as Dancing in the Dark returns to clubs, that’s great I guess. But what about those of us who don’t live in Toronto, New York, or London or who are choosing to stay out night clubs until the pandemic is gone for good? Or what about those people who dance in bed, or in their wheelchairs, for whom the night club, even sober, might never have been a real option?

I was happy to see that some dark dancing groups are running hybrid dance parties, in the club in whatever city they are in and on Zoom and or YouTube as well.

And I’ll be curious to see where we land in terms of hybrid forms of participation.

Dancing gif

How is this working out in your online fitness world? Are you losing online fitness options? What do you think we ought to do to keep online and in person fitness communities going? How is hybrid working out, if your communities are going that route?

covid19 · Dancing · fitness

(Remote) Dark Dancing (Guest Post)

By Elan Paulson

“Man, I’m just tired and bored with myself
Hey there, baby, I could use just a little help.”

“Dancing in the Dark,” Bruce Springsteen

After months of being house-bound due to the COVID19 pandemic, folks may be searching for new ways to break up the monotony of their indoor exercise routines. Dark dancing has been there all along, just waiting to be discovered.

Chorophobia is the fear of dancing, which stems from feeling judged as other watch us move our bodies, and it is apparently more common than people think. In the video documentary, Fear of Dancing (2020), director Michael Allcock talks about how chorophobia is something we grow into as we get older.

The documentary features a Toronto-based group whose members “meet once a week to dance together in a darkly lit room.” During the pandemic, some of these dark dancers moved from in-person twilit sessions to dancing together in the dark…in their own homes.

On Monday nights, the Dark Dancing TO DJ sends a Zoom meeting or a Youtube stream link to the group. Requests may be taken in advance; a playlist is made. Then everybody logs on around the same time and just dances to the curated music–together yet apart–for a little over an hour.

cat in front of two computer screens that are lit up by a background display
Pets can see you dark dancing. They don’t count.

I’ve been twice now. One week they used Zoom, and I turned on my camera but draped fabric over the camera for privacy. The next week, with the Youtube stream, there was no “room” to log into. Both times I did turn dance in the mostly dark…for authenticity.

For exercise, I find it fun. I can’t fail to score points like I do with Just Dance, and I won’t forget the choreography like I do in a live or recorded dance class. I get to wear comfortable clothes and have the whole floor to myself (except maybe other than my cat, Theo). And I hear music that I would never find on my own.

shadow of a woman on a door
Dancing with myself…

Both me and another dark dancer agreed that we prefer dark dancing in Zoom to the Youtube stream. You can’t see anyone either way, but there’s something about being with other people dark dancing, even if it’s only in a virtual room.

In addition to Dark Dancing TO, there are other social media groups and streaming sites that provide music and live DJs from around the world for listening and dancing. If you have chorophobia, or are just looking something different, this may be it!

Have you tried dark dancing? What do you think?