Thursday, October 8, 2009

Christian Conversion and the Challenge of Dance

As a youngster I was told when you sing or dance you praise God twice as much. However in Christian Conversion by, P. Sterling Stuckey states the idea of dancing and/or simply moving in the Christian faith was considered taboo and shunned by whites of the 19th century. Growing up in the south I remember sitting in a small church house and not really paying attention to all that was going on until the rare occasion someone “caught the spirit” (which in our 100 person mixed race church was ad-libbing to a song). I recall on these rare occasions jolting into an alert inquisitive consciousness and being intrigued as what exactly was going on within them. When I moved to New York, I remember the excitement of witnessing tambourines in church, drums, the organ, the choir and the weekly spiritual mountings. The environment became one where the custom of praising God in music and dance was the norm. My Roman Catholic church (which at this point was predominantly West Indian) had liturgical dancers who performed on all holidays and other church high holy days and it was an exciting event. Ironically around the same time I became involved in my church I began to attend an independent school on the Upper East Side that functioned in the Catholic tradition. When I joined my school’s liturgical dance group, I was told my way of dancing was to provocative and street-like- and I needed to “tone it down.” This critique is one I took personally as an attack on my faith and custom.
The article for me brought to light the difference amongst people who share the same religion, but different traditions. In the realm of right and wrong I do not think one exists. I believe that faith is a person endeavor and discovery and if one shuffles their feet while doing or stands erect both need to be respected. Nevertheless, this article brings to light just how much the African Diaspora has shaken and penetrated almost every aspect of what we now call the American culture.


- Mona Quarless

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