How do you tell the difference between an 8 count move and a 6 count move?

Well, how?
This is one of those questions that comes up in the Teaching Lindy Hop fb group over and over again. I hear people asking it in classes and workshops all over the world. It’s like asking ‘can I take knitting needles on a plane?’ It will always get a lot of social media traction. It’s a good idea for a banging post.

But I think it’s also a good case study for examining some of the problems with out lindy hop is taught these days. So let’s go there.

I’ve taken a number of workshops where the best teachers in the world teach 6 count and 8 count moves, and explain how a follow might know which is which, and how a lead might lead the difference. But I’ve figured out that it’s also a bit of a straw man question. Why?

It begins with the premise that lindy hop is a series of moves. And to paraphrase Adrian Warnock-Graham from Montreal, lindy hop is movement, not moves. It can take any number of beats to move from point A to point B, and in any rhythmic combination. We tend to favour blocks of 4 beats because swinging jazz is in 4/4 time (4 beats to the bar), and 2 beats because we have two feet, and swinging jazz usually has the emphasis on every second beat. But even a fairly canonical figure like the swing out needn’t be restrained by an 8-count (two bar) timing. It can be as many or as few beats as you like (or can make happen).

So why are people obsessed with this question of knowing the difference between 6 and 8 count versions of a figure?

Because that’s the way they’re taught. It is routine to see lindy hop classes all over the world marketed as ‘8 count swing’. Teachers talk a lot about ‘8-count swing’ in class, distinguishing it from ‘6-count’. There are a range of reasons for this, some rooted in the 1990s, some to do with the wider modern-day partner dance community.

Kenny Nelson has written a very good blog post about it, Social Dances Have Names, where he points out that white dance teacher repackage and market lindy hop (in the USA) as ‘jitterbug’ and ‘East Coast Swing’ as a way of explaining a dance product (lindy hop). Gaby Cook argues in a facebook post that ‘east coast swing’ is a product of the Arthur Murray company (she provides references in that post).
What is East Coast Swing?

  • A dance product created by Arthur Murray, a white American male dance businessman;
  • A repackaging of Black dance (lindy hop) to make it palatable for white sensibilities (an issue I’ve taken up in this blog a million times before, and which is the topic of a chapter of my PhD dissertation);
  • Predominantly 6-count;
  • Marketed to newer dancers.

The history is a little different in Australia. Yes, all the above holds true for this country. But the link to Arthur Murray and even the phrase ‘east coast swing’ has largely fallen out of use. It was definitely how I was sold lindy hop in my very first classes in Brisbane in 1998. But you rarely hear it used today.
Instead, the emphasis on 6-count figures is tied to the popularity of 1950s rock n roll dancing, which was huge in Australia in the 1980s, heavily promoted by large dance associations (like the VRRDA), and provided teachers for the very first lindy hop classes in the country.

In Sydney in particular, rock n roll classes (and rockabilly) are very popular, bolstered by a healthy (and very fun) 50s live music scene and vintage/goth culture. So it’s not uncommon for a new dancer to take beginner lindy hop classes and beginner rock n roll classes at the same time. The two dances are further conflated by:

  • The same types of music used on both classes (or at least a lack of real swinging jazz in lindy hop classes);
  • A lack of attention to timing and rhythm in swinging jazz, and how that affects the way lindy hop works;
  • A lack of distinction between 6-count rock n roll figures and 6-count lindy hop figures in these classes;
  • Teaching mostly 6-count figures in beginner lindy hop classes, which then leads to the idea that rock n roll is ‘easier’ than lindy hop, and lindy hop is therefore ‘much harder’ than rock n roll;
  • An almost uniform belief that the swing out is ‘a really hard move’ in Sydney lindy hop teachers, and consequently a reluctance to teach it to beginner lindy hoppers.

So you can see how newer dancers, dancers who aren’t plugged into an international lindy hop community, or dancers who don’t know much about the history and music of lindy hop draw a very deep line between 6-count and 8-count moves in lindy hop.

Other factors contributing to this strange way of thinking about lindy hop include:

  • An emphasis on teaching figures in classes;
  • Class content composed entirely of set sequences of figures (ie ‘mini routines’);
  • Teacher-centered classes, where these set sequences of figures are called by the teacher, students are ‘counted in’ by the teacher, and the music treated largely as a metronome for marking out ‘the beat’.

In this class environment a ‘successful’ dance is one where the follow gets all of the figures correctly, and the lead leads all those figures correctly. There is no room for improvisation, no room for counting yourself in or experimenting with different timing for a figure, and a very strong emphasis on the leader and leading. We also see language like “What is the lead for this move?” as though there is only one, fixed way for a lead to move a follow through a figure, and only one figure matched to each set ‘lead’. This approach tends to create an anxiety in follows about ‘following properly’ (ie executing a figure perfectly, and exactly as the leader wishes), and a complete inability for students to count themselves in, understand or predict musical structure (like phrases, choruses, bridges, intros and outros, etc etc), swung timing, or improvise with shape and timing.

One of the most annoying consequences of this approach to teaching (for me, anyway), is men who usually lead all the time wanting me to dance with them, so they can ‘try following’. I’m generally not a fan of this, and often say no. I’m not a fairground ride. But the part that really fricking irritates me, is the way these men don’t actually ‘follow’. They feel what they assume is ‘the lead’ for a figure, then execute that figure, completely independently from me. You feel it most in a circle (where it feels like they’re running backwards, pushing your right hand around), swing outs, where they send themselves waaaay out past the limit of my arm, execute a made version of a swivel, and then run back at me, and of course as they move themselves through under arm turns with no reference to me.
I do try to be sympathetic to these men who just want to try something new, and only feel comfortable dancing with women because GAYPANIC. But I don’t. I’d really rather dance with someone who only follows, or who has never danced at all. Sorry not sorry.

But this approach to ‘following’ makes very clear the way these dancers understand lindy hop: as a series of moves (not movement), with set ‘triggers’ or leads for those figures that are performed at set times. There is no understanding of leading and following as a mutual process, where both dancers are communicating all the time, not only through those ‘leads’, but through every point where they touch, through looking at each other, laughing, smiling, talking, calling out, demonstrating jazz steps or rhythms, adjusting the way they move or groove in response to the music, and so on.

Surely you can see how all this sets dancers up for the idea that 6-count moves and 8-count moves are completely different things. And when they ask “How do you know the difference between 6 and 8 count moves?” they’re really saying “Give me a fail-safe, objectively neutral and fixed list of indicators so I can always follow/lead this move perfectly.”

So what do we do when students ask this?
I’d like to channel Sylvia Sykes here, who famously responded to the question “How do you dance lindy fast?” with “You do the same thing, only faster!” If Sylvia was asked “How do you know the difference between a 6-count and an 8-count version of this move?” I like to imagine her saying “The 6 count finishes earlier because the 8-count takes two extra beats.”

Because honestly, that’s the difference: one figure takes 6 beats, one takes 8 beats (and is therefore 2 beats longer). The 6-count figure is faster.
The follow up question, then, is ‘How do you know if it’s going to be a 6-count move or an 8-count move?” Because that’s really what people mean when they ask about knowing the difference between the two.
And my answer is: you don’t.

All sorts of things can change the length of a figure on the floor. A drunken random careering into your pass. Your partner losing their balance. A sudden urge to dance an iconic jazz step halfway through a bar. Random choice.
As a follow, you can’t ever know what a lead will do. And if it’s me leading, there’s no way I’ve planned any further ahead than the next beat.

As a follow, I just try to be mostly present in the moment. I feel that physical contact with my partner – their hand holding mine, my arm resting across their arm and my hand touching their shoulder, their arm around my side and back, their hand on my back. I look at their body and face to see how they’re feeling, whether they have a fun jazz to show me. I listen to the music and let it take me from point to point. I take care of the rhythm I’m doing (which is usually what the lead has suggested, but not always). I try not to fall over or run into anyone. I don’t know if this move is going to be 6 or 8 or 10 or 20 beats long.

But I do know if the lead is accelerating our movement, and I try to stay in contact with them so it can happen. Unless I don’t want to. Or can’t. So they may have aimed at a 6-count move, but it might become an 8-count move because I’m just too fucking tired to make it happen that quickly. Or because I need to add a couple of beats to make my logical-awesome jazz step work. Or because I missed the build up of energy. Maybe the lead thinks they’re increasing energy, but they’re just yanking me about? Who knows. And that’s why we can’t really know ahead of time whether a figure will be 6 or 8 count. Not if we’re actually dancing.

As a leader, I can choose to lead a 6 count version of a figure instead of an 8 count version. Maybe the music is telling me it needs a nice sharp BAM at the end of a phrase. Maybe I’m full of beans and dancing like a manic crazy person. If I do happen to be moving towards a shorter, faster shape, I need to start getting my shit together well before that point. I need to be properly connected to my partner, knowing exactly where their weight is, whether their torso and limbs and everything are safely under control. I have to have enough room on the dance floor, and be aware of the directions and speed other people are moving. You know, social dancing skills.
The magic thing about lindy hop and improvised social partner dances, is that all that stuff is happening usually outside your conscious awareness. If I had to consciously measure all these things, I’d die of stress and mental fatigue. I certainly wouldn’t enjoy dancing. When I’m dancing, there’s no planning. No thinking. Only feels. Which is why I need to practice if I’m going to dance on a busy dance floor in Seoul :D

There are lots of things that tell you, as a follow, if the lead wants to change the figure you’re doing at a certain point in time. They might have their hand over your head as you turn, and then bring that hand down in a comfortable arc to suggest and ending to your turn. Of course, you don’t have to do this; you can spin on forever. Or not spin at all. You are an independent, free and capable human being.
Or you might be in closed, and the lead uses the triple step after a step-step to make a send out from closed to open a faster movement, where that triple step is followed by another triple step. That’s a very standard way of feeding energy into a 6-count figure. Triple steps are, as you know, a very useful way of adding energy to movement, because you are adding an extra step, and you’re playing with the timing (making the rhythm slow slow slow quick slow) which makes it feel snappier and also swingier. This is, incidentally, why I RAGE OUT when I hear teachers tell students that they should drop the triple step when they lindy hop to faster music. What the actual fuck? That’s something a lead would say. A follow knows they need that extra step to haul arse. And we know that the triple step is the part of a swing out where we feed energy into the movement.

But I digress.

In sum, then, if you are asking ‘how do you teach the difference between 6 and 8 count moves?’, perhaps you should stop and look at your teaching, and consciously move away from focussing on moves, and towards movement. Move away from set sequences of figures, and towards ‘Try it in your own time’ sessions in class. And for the goddess’ sake, stop counting them in. Let them start ‘when the music tells you it is the right time’.

Could you just fuck off? Being a professional DJ when the DJ bros will NOT fucking leave you alone to do your job.

Hello!
As you may or may not know, I had some issues with a DJ bro pulling acts of Massive Sexism in my work place at Herrang this year. Despite our managers’ best intentions, the Herrang DJ team is still home to extremely bro bros. It’s also home to some of the very nicest reconstructed men in DJing, but let’s put them aside for a minute.

What about these DJ bros? Why don’t we just ditch them completely?
Mates, if it was up to me (and it has been in the past), I would. You hassle a sister? You’re out. That’s it. And all the time and energy we put into dealing with these jerks can be put into fostering new DJs and new DJ cultures.

Anyway, because I’m me, and I can’t stop thinking about things (ruminations are us), I started working on a way to develop a healthy DJing culture at a big event like Herrang that also draws on cultures from all over the world. Now, local DJing in many countries is not male dominated. Godddess bless the young man whose response to my story about being told ‘Women DJs can’t handle the pressure’ was honest befuddlement. He’d grown up lindy hopping in the Melbourne scene, where almost all the organisers are women, and most of the highest profile DJs are women. This generation of young people (ie the 20 somethings) is doing quite well. And we DJs in Australia have put a LOT of effort into getting rid of rapists and misogynists, and pushing women into DJing. As a result, we have some truly excellent (and definitely world standard) DJs.
But it seems the rest of the world needs to do some catching up. In my week as staff DJ in Herrang, I was the only woman on staff. Which SUCKS BUTTS. I love men, I really do, but I also really need to NOT WORK WITH JUST MEN. Because I need someone who can do the proper in-depth chitchat that non-bros do as a matter of fact. I don’t know want to know who broke up with who, I want to know the when, where, why, what, and how of it. I want anecdata. I want speculation. I want personal commentary. I want backstory. I also want at least one other person who’d shout “THAT’S BULLSHIT” when told women can’t handle the pressure of DJing.

Anyway, if Herrang has a safe space policy, and a general (though not terribly well articulated or publicised) anti-racist policy, how is it enacted at a departmental level within this sprawling organisation (that has about 300 people on staff each week)?
In the DJing team: not very well.
There are:
– no posters on the walls about it in the DJ office
– no paper flyers on it
– no social media campaigns or content
– one or two somewhat unexcellent pages in the DJ handbook
– a passing comment in one meeting.

No practical tips for:
– not raping or harassing or disrespecting people
– making reports
– trusting your own judgement if you think a bro just disrespected you
– dealing with unsafe situations
– making spaces safer
– intervening if you’re a bro watching a fellow bro go fully dodgy.

So of course, I decided to make some. Because fucking hell, mate, this is not brain surgery, and the rest of the world has been doing this for ten years now.

I also think that a good safety policy should involve:

1. an organisation-wide policy
That is publicly available (that’s usually a mission statement or set of values that says things like ‘We are trying to be anti-racist. And we don’t tolerate racism or sexual assault.”) This big picture policy guides the decisions individuals and managers make at lower levels or other places in the organisation.

2. A transparent reporting process
So you know what’s going to happen if you make a report. NB this is my example from Jazz BANG, and it’s out of date. We need to update it. But since we haven’t run an event since 2019… we are behind. This lets people know what will happen if they make a report. Most people make reports because they don’t want to be near the offender again, and want to know if he’ll be at the event. The other common reason is that they want to protect other people from him. I’ve never heard anyone say they want him punished. Except me. I FUCKING WANT THEM PUNISHED.

3. Visible safety staff, with photos in public place everywhere uniforms or badges, contact phone numbers, emails, and social media addresses, as well as physical offices!
this one is super important, as most people eye off the safety staff before making a decision to speak to them. They might even save reporting til well after the event (for safety’s sake), when they’re sure the safety people are actually safe.

4. A clear guide to what is considered sexual assault, racism, etc.
This one is especially important for letting everyone know what the event’s policies and ideologies are, and whether they take this seriously or are just cutting and pasting a random document. It’s very important for newer dancers who aren’t familiar with the way these issues play out in the dance world, and it’s essential as information for potential offenders, so they know what we count as harassment or assault or racism.

This info also plays a key role in dealing with offenders: if you kick them out of your event, you can say ‘you broke the code’, they can look at the code and see ‘oh, touching boobs is not permitted’, and they learn not to touch boobs if they want to go dancing. Well, that’s the goal. I don’t think it works that way. In fact, I know 99% of offenders know they shouldn’t touch boobs without permission, but they do anyway because they legit think they can do whatever they like because MAN.

I do know that it’s more likely to go: person has boobs touched by man, person sees the code on the website and thinks ‘fuck that; i was RIGHT to be shitty that he touched my boobs’; person speaks to safety person, saying ‘i saw on your website that boob touching in lindy hop is not ok!’, and the safety person says ‘you are CORRECT’; and then that unsafe creep gets kicked out.

5. A solid policy communication strategy.
This is basically a strategy for telling everyone – attendees, staff, randoms reading on the internet – all about your policy. It should also outline processes (eg how to make a report), identify safety staff, etc etc. It should be practical, and on-brand for your event (eg it should sound like you and the voice of your event, if you want it to sound authentic and real and trustworthy, not just cut and pasted and a token effort).
I like this stuff to be super simple, engaging and possibly funny, positive and empowering, normalising this stuff (eg the tone should be ‘of course we kick rapists out’ not ‘omg rapists?! how even? what ?!’), using photos and images rather than words. Fewer words. A catchy slogan or mnemonic is helpful.

It’s worth noting that the way you communicate your policy to staff is not always the same as the way you communicate to punters. eg staff will need to know exactly what to do if a banned man comes to the door, but customers don’t.
So you might divide your communication strategy between internal communication and external communication.

6. A solid process.
You have great ideas and policies, but what will you actually do? So, in my case, a guy spent a week pushing me about, challenging all my actions and thinking, making very sexist comments, and ultimately making me feel like shit. So I spoke to my managers. Who…. didn’t know what to do.

In this case, they clearly weren’t trained, and there was no internal documentation for practical responses to a report. I wasn’t sexually assaulted, so we didn’t need the cops or a doctor. All my managers and the rest of the team were men, and they hadn’t experienced or even noticed any of this shitty behaviour, so they didn’t really understand, or even know what I meant.
Because I’m experienced, and I am so fucking DONE WITH THIS SHIT. I refused to just leave it with my managers so they could quietly ignore it and move on. I spoke to the camp’s safety officer. Who also didn’t know how to deal with this. And now I am bloody well developing documentation, because if I’m dealing with this, imagine what it’s like for a new DJ who doesn’t speak English, in Herrang for the first time, dealing with a bossy white man (who isn’t a boss, but likes power) who keeps telling them what to play and that they aren’t actually capable of DJing under pressure?! Somebody needs to fucking well get this shit done.

I JUST WISH THE OTHER DJ MEN WOULD DO THIS WORK SO I COULD GET ON WITH BEING AWESOME.

Anyway.

7. Solid documentation.
Processes have to be recorded somehow. How do we handle reports? What’s the process for dealing with a rape versus a week of sexist harassment? What happens when the DJ managers change over at the end of the week, or resign from Herrang forever? Where are the reports stored? How do we measure the success of our response? And for me, specifically, how do I know this man won’t be on staff again next year the same week I am? Can I be sure he hasn’t read the report and correspondence? Will I be safe from his reactions? What if it happens again? At this point, neither Herrang nor I can answer any of these questions.

8. Retraining and retention or kick that fucker out?
You can see my position on this. I don’t think they’re worth the effort. These men know their behaviour is fucked up. But they keep doing it, because they think they’re fine. And retraining them takes SO MUCH WORK. So much time. And who’ll do that retraining? PLEASE don’t tell me it’s a woman (it’s always a woman). What are the metrics for gauging his ‘retrainedness’? What’s the time line? Where will he be trained? How do we deal with the effects of his mistakes (he will make mistakes)?

I would much rather spend all these resources on supporting those young women from China or Korea, that young Black man from the US, that clever and attractive middle aged feminist from Australia WHO JUST WANTS TO DJ FUCKING MUSIC AND NOT HAVE TO FEND OFF UNWANTED MANSPLAINING AND OTHER PEOPLE TOUCHING THE FUCKING SOUND DESK.

But that’s not the end!
What else do I look for in an event, to be sure its safety policy is both legit and 4real?

Other stuff:

  • A diverse staff cohort. eg if it’s all straight white bros, shit will not be safe there;
  • The organisation communicates about safety stuff. eg they have social media posts on the regular, talking about what they’re doing, introducing safety staff, marking milestones, etc;
  • Responding staff are trained in practical responses;
  • Staff making responses can access help and make reports quickly and easily;
  • Staff know how to make reports and are happy with the responses they get;
  • Workers feel safe enough to make reports;
  • Data is collected and used to improve policy and practice.

[all this stuff is from this pdf called ‘Good Practice Indicators Framework for Preventing and Responding to Workplace Sexual Harassment’ from Respect at Work.

So here we are. I’ve been at an event, had a moderately good time, dealing with the irritation and stress of making a report. And I’m going to make bloody sure no one else has to go through this again. I go through the DJ handbook (which the most excellent Yana developed in previous years), and I see some room for improvement, specifically in terms of safety stuff. So I write up some recommendations.

Here is a… probably third draft? It is just in what I call the ‘raw script’ form. From here it needs to be written and simplified, changed into pictures and photos, translated into at least Korean, Mandarin, and French, and then inserted into the relevant documents. To make this really work, it needs to be:

– In the official handbook in a ‘serious’ official form (that is still on-brand for Herrang);
– Made into a funny and accessible comic on a paper flyer to hang out in the DJ office, and in each of the four DJ booths;
– Made into a funny and accessible poster to be stuck up in the DJ office, in the DJ booths, in the staff lounge, the tech lounge, and music department offices (with extras for replacing them);
– Actually printed, then stuck up everywhere;
– Monitored for vandalism and graffiti (this tells what people are thinking about the issue and initiative) and replaced when it’s torn down or damaged.

All this, and it also needs:
– A script for managers to present it in meetings and revisit during the week;
– A script for DJs who are responding to harassment;
– A script for DJs who are intervening in bros’ behaviour.

And this is just one document that basically says ‘DON’T BE A FUCKING ARSEHOLE, ARSEHOLE.’
Anyhoo, here is the first draft.

Additions for DJ Handbook

Being a good colleague
DJs come from all around the world, and are all different ages, ethnicities, genders, sexual identities, and personalities. Hoorah! But this means we can occasionally miscommunicate or confuse each other. Here are some tips to make your work week extra smooth and fun.

Respect your colleagues. 

  • Assume every DJ is as capable as you are. That means you treat every DJ (even brand new ones!) as your equal. They will know things you don’t!
  • Don’t lecture or offer advice without first having enthusiastic permission (“Yes please!”) Had permission before? You need to ask every time.
  • They don’t need to tell you what song they’re playing now, what song they’re playing next, or what song they played last night. But if you’re a good colleague, they’d probably love to tell you!
  • Don’t like a DJ’s song choice? Keep it to yourself.
  • Love a DJ’s song choice? Tell them! Tell everyone!

Don’t twiddle someone else’s knobs.

  • Don’t adjust the mixing desk or sound gear unless you are DJing, or the current DJ has asked you to. Exceptions: the booth will catch on fire if you don’t.
  • Don’t tell another DJ what to play, or what to do with their set. They’re DJing, not you. Yes, even if they’re a brand new DJ. Step back.

Sex and the Herrang DJ.
Attracted to your colleague and want to take it further? Stop and think a minute.

  • They’re working, asleep, drunk, high, or injured: The answer is no. Nope. No way. Someone in this position cannot give you consent.
  • You’ve asked once, and they did not say “yes please!”: Back off. They’ll tell you if they’re interested.
  • You’ve had sex with someone once, and you’re keen for more: Use your words, ask respectfully, and if they don’t say “Yes please!” it’s time to back off. If they do say “Yes please”? Wonderful news – enjoy!
  • You want to ask someone about their sex life, relationships, body, sexual preferences: Not while we’re working, buddy. You might get to ask once, politely, and if they don’t want to answer, you stop! And don’t ask again.
  • No touchy! Don’t touch another DJ’s breasts, bottom, groin, genitals… without enthusiastic permission (“Yes please!”) And not while you’re working, please.
  • What about touching the rest of their body? If you have power in this situation (eg you’re a cisman, straight, white, an experienced DJ, on staff, older, and they’re not), you need to back off. If you’re equals and friends, maybe it’s ok? Remember that different cultures have different rules about touching other people, and always use your words if you’re not sure. It’s ok to say “Hey, I just patted your shoulder. Are you ok with that, or should I use my words next time?”
  • You’re a manager and you’re hot for a staff DJ or guest DJ: Think carefully about this. Let the person with less power (not you) make the first move. Check in with the Safety Boss Daphna to get clarification.
  • You’re a staff DJ or guest DJ and you’re hot for a DJ manager: Think carefully about this. Check in with the Safety Boss Daphna to get clarification. But if you make a move and they don’t say “Yes please!” say “No problem!” and back off.
  • Someone touched you/said something sexy/showed you sexy pictures or video/asked you about your sex life or sexuality, or did something that made you feel ‘urk! No! Unsafe!’: If you feel safe, say “Stop! I don’t like that”, holding up your hand like a stop sign. If you don’t feel safe to do that, leave the room straight away. Find or call Daphna and the Safety team straight away, even if you don’t think it’s important enough.
  • Someone said “Stop! I don’t like that!” to you, and held up their hand like a stop sign: Stop what you’re doing immediately! And you need to back up so that person can leave. Then you need to go to Daphne and the Safety Team and figure out what you did. If you’re not sure, they’ll help you figure it out! 

Be helpful.

  • Your colleague’s forgotten their record, the DJ phone, a bottle of water, a power cord, an adaptor: Offer to fetch it or find it. Team DJ: activate!
  • Finished your set (and your beers, dinner, and snacks)? Take all your junk with you. The only thing a DJ should leave in the booth is a bad smell.

———————————————–

You can see as you read through this that the beginnings of catch phrases are emerging: “Yes please!” is a good example. Here we’re trying to get people thinking about and practicing enthusiastic consent. So we practice saying ‘yes please!’ and ‘no thanks’ long before we get to the sex stuff. Hopefully. It’s important to practice these little scripts in non-stressful (safe) spaces, so when it comes to a stressful situation (300 dancers high on adrenaline staring up at you at 3am), you can say ‘no thanks’ and that DJ bro will FUCK OFF BACK TO THE DJ OFFICE and quit asking you what you’ll play next, and you can get on with being fucking awesome.

You should know that while I’m typing this up, I’m also assisting my male partner in making dinner (how could he not read the recipe? I don’t know. We will have a little fucking talk after this), booking a physio appointment for that goddamm sore hip, planning a balboa party, corresponding on this incident, asking a music friend to trust me with his CDs the way I trust him with mine, and trying to get it all done before I do my weights workout.

References:
This document ’Sexual harassment: practical resources and tools’ from Disrupting the System (a pdf https://championsofchangecoalition.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/05/Disrupting-the-System_Sexual-Harassment-Practical-resources-and-tools.pdf) gives a good overview of things to look for to see if your workplace is enabling sexual harassment and sexism. Much of it applies to assessing workplaces for racism as well.

This document ‘Everyday Respect: it starts with understanding’ from Champions of Change (a pdf https://championsofchangecoalition.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Champions-of-Change-Consult-Australia-Everyday-Respect-Report.pdf) gives a good overview of understanding exclusionary behaviour in a workplace (including sexism and racism).

And the Champions of Change coalition also have this guide ‘Building confidence and trust in workplace responses to sexual harassment’ (pdf https://championsofchangecoalition.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/Building-confidence-and-trust-in-workplace-responses-to-sexual-harassment-1.pdf) which is very helpful.

This document ‘good practice indicators framework for preventing and responding to workplace sexual harassment’ from the Aus gov body Respect At Work is also useful (pdf https://www.respectatwork.gov.au/sites/default/files/2022-12/Attachment%20B%20-%20Good%20Practice%20Indicators%20Framework%20for%20Preventing%20and%20Responding%20to%20Workplace%20Sexual.pdf)

On being a woman in public

Dear friends, it was so nice to meet so many people in Herrang this past fortnight who said they read my blog, and that they liked it! It really made me feel good. It’s a little weird and kind of creepy to have so many people saying they’ve been reading things I generally think of as private thoughts, but it’s also reassuring to know you like it. And, after all, this isn’t private. It’s a blog.

It was especially nice to hear all this after thinking about that interview with Ryan for the Track podcast I did a few years ago. At one point Ryan was pressing me to explain why I wrote a public blog when I knew I’d be dealing with the hate mail I get. That little exchange really bothered me at the time (read: shat me to fucking tears), but I remember struggling to answer why.
Now, of course, I’d shout “WHY THE FUCK SHOULD I STOP WRITING JUST BECAUSE SOME ARSEHOLE MEN WILL SEND ME HATE MAIL? YOU THINK THAT IF I STOP BEING A WOMAN WRITER IN PUBLIC MEN WILL STOP HATING ME?!” With a follow up tirade about straight men tone policing women from the safety of their own international fucking platform.

After this week meeting a trans woman from China who read my blog, and then rereading her comments about how important it was to her to read something from a woman about gender in lindy hop, I am extra angry at Ryan for that rubbish. For her, it was enough to know at the time that she wasn’t the only one thinking about gender. For me, it’s hugely humbling to think that my rambling reached someone who could make use of it. After all, isn’t that why we all publish our writing – to make contact with other people?

One of my favourite ‘I read your blog!’ comments was from a bass player to muttered it in an aside, seconds before I introduced the band he was in in the late night jam. I do love using the mic, and it’s nice to have someone say “I like what you have to say!” seconds before I turn on the mic and say a whole bunch of silly things to a room full of people.

It’s also very lovely that you are all still reading it, even though I haven’t written anything new in… years. Yes, years. Friends, I can’t believe it’s been so long. But there was that pandemic. And I turned my attention to facebook, and to instagram. In fact, I moved into that area professionally. It turns out I love making ridiculous videos of myself speaking to camera as much as I like speaking into the mic.

Did you know I also send voice messages to my friends on messenger, and as texts? Of course I do. And my very favourite thing is to send recordings of me singing fruity versions of christmas carols and pop songs to my besties. If you ever need cheering up, remind me to send you a recording of me trying to remember the words to a Taylor Swift song in real time. It’s very quality. This point is pertinent because I am always tempted by the jams in Herrang. But not that tempted. I did a LOT of singing in school, from primary school to high school, from choral groups to musicals, and I can honestly say it traumatised me. All the joy I had in singing was squeezed out of me. I did go on to do other choral work, but eventually I gave up on that as well. My voice has also changed a lot since then (it’s definitely lower than that very high soprano of my adolescence), and much rougher. I also have a real problem finding a key and sticking to it :D That doesn’t stop me sending voice messages to my friends, but it does stop me getting on stage with a band and actually singing into a microphone. Ah well, perhaps I will give it a go for next year?

I can hear some of you saying that I should do it as a challenge, but friends, I’m not short of challenging and potentially humiliating things to do in public. It’s funny how I have no problem getting on a mic with zero prep to talk and make jokes, or getting up in in front of a crowd to dance. But ask me to sing? Yikes. That’s some scary shit. I still have nightmares about it.

Let me talk more about me for a second. I do love the mic. I don’t really know why. I do know that I try to speak slowly and clearly, and only get on the mic if I have a particular thing to say. I like to pause and wait, making eye contact with as many people as possible. Maybe mentioning them by name. I like to make jokes, but they’re more puns or plays on words. And I never try to prep and memorise a speech. That always goes badly (I have the worst memory ever), and always feels flat. When I get up there, I imagine that I’m standing with my friends (I am), about to tell them an excellent story (I hope). Something that I thought was funny, and which I hope makes them laugh. Or maybe something useful. Or perhaps a chance to say something reassuring that will make them feel a bit better in a trying moment. It could all go terribly wrong (it often does), but isn’t that also the point of it? The risk is what makes it so delicious.

I find that there are certain patterns and rhythms to public speaking that make it work. Repeating a theme, or returning to a topic about three times is one. You might not do that all in a single speech, but you’ll come back to that topic over the course of the night or the week. I don’t do it deliberately, but I’m the type of person who can’t leave a good topic alone. I can’t help going back to it, giving it another probe. Looking for another joke or something else interesting. I also really like the way we set up connections between topics when we read or talk or think or move. That intertexuality is how we make meaning in the world, after all.

There’s something about repeated rhythms and elements that humans like. We love patterns. I guess that’s why we love the AAAB structure so much. Or the ABAB structure. I know I really like to use AAAB, where the A is a familiar topic or line, and B is a twist on that same topic. Like the punch line, but not that obvious. But I definitely don’t plan this out in advance. I just start talking. But I do think that learning jazz routines has helped with this sympathy for rhythmic pattern. Learning the step-step-triple-step rhythm (aka long long long short-long rhythm), which we do first on one foot then the other has certainly set me up for enjoying a nice bit of repetition. But there’s also something lovely about returning to a theme. We start to expect it, anticipate it, enjoy it, and then feel a bit of explosive HA! when there’s a final twist on it.
And of course, this is why reading Shakespeare, or dancing Frankie Manning choreography is so satisfying. They’re both just so good at rhythms, and making combinations of sounds and movements that are very satisfying in the body and mouth. Think of that last rhyming couple at the end of a scene in Will’s plays. The stomp off as Frankie finalises a phrase. Predictable, invariable, but also wonderfully satisfying.

Herrang? Oh yes, I was there again this year. It’s been five years or so, since 2019 since I’d been. I went this year because the administrative board has changed, and it’s as though a sudden wild wind has blown in, knocking vases off tables, billowing curtains, and getting in people’s eyes. Some things are the same: the organised chaos, the propensity for long, slow jokes and gentle pranks, the way we all slowly melt into relaxed bodies and slow talking after a week on staff. But many things are different. No more sexist jokes in films, no more misogyny in the meetings, no more relegating Black culture to the past (and the power of white men).

This isn’t to suggest that all is well in the camp. Misogyny and white supremacy still exist. This is still a strange and manufactured moment in the Swedish countryside. But now there’s music other than jazz all over the place, and people feel free to talk about Issues. Sex. Sexuality. Gender. Race. Antiracism. Racism. Power. Exploitation. Fear. Excitement. Kindness. And there are so many young people. In the first week there one hundred and fifty children and teens. It is as though the changes have reminded everyone that jazz is fun, and improvisation means taking new risks as well as remembering the past. I enjoyed it a great deal. And we must remember that these changes were not easy, are ongoing, and are the result of some very hard work. There are people who’ve been struggling to make things better there for years, but have given up. And there are people who will come along and think this is how things have always been. So we will have to work very hard to keep that steady improvement happening.

Speaking of how things usually go, what music am I listening to? Well, my obsession with Talking Heads goes on and on and on. Especially that song Home. It makes me feel enormous feelings. I did DJ a lot this past week (week 2), on staff, and that was a lot of work. I hadn’t prepared properly, and I felt out of practice and clunky. But I also had one of the best compliments on my DJing ever. No not as good as that time the child of Russian friends shook my hand very seriously and thanked me for the music. But nearly. A woman I didn’t know took time to say thank you for DJing, and that she really liked my music because “It feels so playful.” This is quite the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me about my music (except for that solemn handshake, of course).

I don’t understand why DJs insist that they are ‘educating’ or ‘pushing’ dancers. That doesn’t sound any fun at all. As I said on facebook this week, this conversation reminds me of something Ramona said once: when she’s in the studio she works very hard, practicing and training. But when she’s on the social floor, she just lets it all go and enjoys herself. In the moment. For me, this is the point of it all: to let it all go. To be present. For just a moment, there’s nothing but the way I feel, and that feeling is all major keys and swung timing, easy going home. For someone with a very busy brain, this is a real gift. A treasure. And I definitely don’t want to start messing with that feeling for other people. To paraphrase an Anthony Bourdain quote, I’m not there to be people’s task master or teacher. I’m in the pleasure business. And if we are talking about the Black heritage of lindy hop, we are, as Albert Murray says, stomping the miserableness and difficulties of everyday life in an ecstatic, cathartic moment of the body.

I suppose this is partly why Herrang felt so much better this year. In the past there had been this blind insistence (from the straight white patriarchal Board) that the camp only celebrate the good parts of Black dance. Not the real lives of Black people. Black dance mattered, but not Black lives. And now that it’s ok to talk about those everyday difficulties (and horrors and despairs), the sweet moments seem so much sweeter. A man respectfully address an older woman as ma’am. A young woman dancing with her friends, thoroughly enjoying being the center of attention. People’s bodies relaxing and melting into that perfect, sweaty happiness.

Don’t cringe when you hear the word marketing.

I know we all cringe when we hear the word ‘marketing’, particularly ’email marketing’ in lindy hop talk. But if we think of things like ‘audience segmentation’ and ‘tags’ for organising our huge list of contacts, then it’s less horrible. A lot of us work with about 2-3000 email contacts after a couple of years, if we run a smallish school. Less if we’re doing something more boutique, like an event (there we might work with 200-300 for a small local event). More if we’re lucky (diligent).

But not all those contacts want to hear about the 10% discount for returning students signing up for level 1 classes. And not all of them need to know that workshop registrants for Special Exchange should enter by the side door at the venue. This is why we use special email management tools like Mailchimp. They allow us to divide our email contacts into specific segments (or markets, or audiences).

It’s funny that there’s still this reluctance to think or talk about bringing people into lindy hop classes as ‘marketing’. We may have 100% good vibes, offering free classes to the local community youth. But we still need to get those yoofs into the class room somehow. And we need to keep in contact with them somehow. So good marketing is part of that, even for nonprofits and charities. And it’s even more important when you develop a list of contacts or benefactors for your charity, start doing tag-on services like health checks for adults who drop of kids.
I do want to note that we all know that the best way to keep a network of people or customers, is to use face to face, in person contact. An email is powerful in some situations. But it’s never as good as stopping to see if Mrs X has the time and date for the next potluck, and asking her, then and there, to commit to bringing her special meatballs.

As a dance organisation or business, we need to combine all these ways of communicating. A website. An email list. Speaking to people in person. A paper flyer. The tools we choose will shape our community: if we’re all digital, we’ll lose Uncle Z who doesn’t own a computer. If use all face to face, Mz G from out of town won’t know that the next party is on Saturday. So we need to make sensible choices about how we’ll speak to our audiences.

I also think that it’s ok to charge money and make a profit from your dance business. Most of the unpaid work (and paid!) in lindy hop is done by women. And I’m always a bit suspicious when I hear people argue (even implicitly) that those workers shouldn’t be paid/businesses shouldn’t make a profit/earn money. Because you’re essentially arguing that women shouldn’t be paid for their work in lindy hop. Only DJs or judges or teachers should be paid. All roles dominated by white men…

We can’t do equitable stuff if we don’t have cash flow. That’s the sad fact of patriarchal capitalism.

What of issues of race, ethnicity, and cultural appropriation? Is it ok for people who aren’t Black to make money from Black art?
That’s a tricky one. My first response would be ‘Be sure of your values. If you don’t feel it’s ok to make money this way, don’t start a business that makes money from it.’

I wouldn’t say ‘do the work for free’, because doing the work for free could undercut Black businesses and workers who _do_ charge for their labour. As an example, you may not charge for your DJing, white bro, because you don’t want to benefit from Black art. But if that means you’re then hired before a Black woman who _does_ charge, because you’re free, then you’re fucking over Black artists and workers. A better option might be to accept pay, but then to donate that pay to a Black arts or community organisation (this is an option I like, as a white DJ and worker – I often donate any pay to a good cause, or ask the person I’m working for to donate to a cause like a women’s refuge or Child Literacy fund).

Be mindful of how you enter into economic and cultural relationships. Understand where your power and privilege lies. As a middle class white woman, I don’t need that $20 DJ pay. But a Black teenager might. So instead of encouraging unpaid labour, I might opt out of the labour system (ie not DJ), or I might take that money and then send it on to someone who _does_ need it. That might be via charities, but it could also be via spending the money on CDs for a swing club’s library, or donating the money to a contest prize.

The revivalist narrative will not die.

I keep coming across white organisations telling a ‘history’ of lindy hop that gives ‘the revival’ pride of place. ie white people claiming the modern lindy hop world as their own altruistic work.
So the term ‘revival’ is problematic because it implies that lindy hop was dead (replaced by rock and roll and/or bebop) before white people came along and brought it back to life. In this narrative, white people are heroes for saving ‘this wonderful dance’ and bringing it back to life.

Black people are totally absent from this story, except as venerable elders who teach eager white people. The white people are also credited with bringing these elders ‘out of retirement’ and back to the dance floor.
It’s all very problematic.

1. Lindy hop wasn’t dead. There’s a whole family of Black social partner dances that are thriving (Tena Morales’ event the International Swing Dance Championships showcases them every year, but white people don’t go to that and aren’t involved, so it must not exist).

2. Because it wasn’t dead, it didn’t need reviving. Declaring lindy hop ‘terra nullius’ (ie no people living in this territory) was white people giving themselves permission to take lindy hop. So the white people who ‘went looking’ for Black elders were pretty much just out on a bit of a colonial expedition. Just like Captain Cook expanding the British Empire, ‘discovering’ a huge big southern continent (‘Australia’).

3. Those Black elders, like Frankie Manning and Norma Miller and so on were still dancing, but in their families and homes and community spaces. Black spaces, to which white people did not have access. The story told most often about Frankie Manning, that his working in the post office was somehow less important or lower status than his dance career is classist and racist. The US Postal Service has a long history as an important employer and union locus for Black communities. It was good, solid work. Norma, of course, was running a dance business (managing troupes), Mama Lou Parkes was still dancing professionally… and so on.

4. The Black dancers who were involved in lindy hop in the 1980s tend to disappear in these revivalist narratives. Angela Andrew and other Black women have lots to say about the number of Black dancers out there lindy hopping in the 1980s, but they somehow disappear when white people tell the stories.

5. The white ‘ownership’ (appropriation) of Black lindy hop in that 1980s period is not only about selling places in classes and workshops (and thereby ‘creating community’ via economic relationships), but also about the exploitation of Black dancers working for white troupe managers (we won’t go into some of the more troubling accounts from that period).

RE the USPS:
I came across references to the importance of the postal service in Hidden Figures and the way it provided a pathway to the space program for Black women (SUCH a good book).

There’s also Philip F. Rubio’s book ‘There’s Always Work at the Post Office: African American Postal Workers and the Fight for Jobs, Justice, and Equality’ (which I haven’t read, but have read _about_.
This all makes the US govt’s cuts to the USPS a matter of institutional racism and white supremacy, rather than a push for smaller government generally (though I’d argue the two are the same thing).

The more I learn about the USPS as a site for unionising, civil rights activism and Black community empowerment, the more troubled I am by white histories of lindy hop that devalue the USPS in Manning’s life. If the civil rights elements of this workplace are ignored, then white ‘historians’ can continue with their bullshit about ‘Frankie never talked about racism in lindy hop, so it didn’t happen’. I’d say that Frankie, as with any other Black worker in America then and now, was very much aware of racism in the entertainment industry and in America generally, and was very careful about what he said to white people about it, and when.

As with the workers who continue to go back to places like Herrang, despite unsafe or inequitable working environments, when you don’t have the financial and personal safety of white privilege, you have fewer choices about the work you can do. And teaching middle class white kids to lindy hop might have suited Manning.

A practical covid management plan that is socially responsible

I’m currently working on a covid management plan for a dance school. I’m quite enjoying the process.
Here’s the process:

–The Plan–

Restating the org’s values

  • Which helped me understand how and why the org would develop a covid policy, what issues to focus on, and how to implement it,
  • Which ensured we were all on the same page.

Stating the covid plan philosophy

  • In this context, a philosophy is theoretical or ideological model for addressing concrete issues,
  • Which is basically applying the org’s abstract values to a concrete issue (covid),
  • Phrasing the philosophy as a list of clear applications of values to a specific issue (covid)
  • This could be a list of a hundred items, or a list of two.

Developing two goals for the plan

  • These are deliberately limited in scope (ie this isn’t a govt department managing the health of a whole city or state, it’s a small dance school),
  • They are very focussed and practical.

Putting all this into practical actions

  • There are four ‘actions’ which cover four general areas of covid management,
  • These actions can be phrased as ‘guidelines’ (ie covid rules) for the org, but they can also guide procedures.
  • They deliberately limit the scope of the plan to keep it very local and very practical.

So that’s the whole Covid management plan.
From here, I use the plan to develop:

  • Guidelines (or rules)
  • Procedures (eg if a rule is ‘you must provide proof of vaccination’, who does this checking, where do they check, what do they do if someone doesn’t have proof, what constitutes proof, etc etc)
  • Social media strategy to communicate all this, and also to provide information about covid that will encourage people to participate
  • Website materials (eg a public statement of the guidelines)
  • A handbook that contains all the procedures, contact info, covid facts, etc.

–Developing the plan–

At this point I have a first draft, and it’s been to the org’s boss for comment and approval to go ahead and develop it.
After some tweaking, I’ll send it off to the rest of the org (teachers and staff) to get their feedback, impressions, comments, suggestions, etc.
I’ll also do a model for public comment.

This Plan development process, and the plan itself, are guided by:

A key part of this process is an ethos of community strength, and collectivism. My experiences working on sexual harassment in dance has made it clear that top-down solutions are a) not effective, b) burn out the people doing the work, c) maintain existing power structures that _enable_ injustices like sexual harassment. As I learnt working on Melbourne Lindy Exchange (MLX) for years, you need to develop work practices that allow any one person to drop out or take a break at any time. Which is, of course, what flexible, healthy workplaces are all about.

–A final form?–

A key part of this plan is to be agile. It must be able to change and respond to social changes. Covid will change. The community changes.
An Important thing I learnt from working on sexual harassment stuff, is that we can’t just develop a code and leave it at that. That doesn’t work. We need to update it, to change and develop our approach, as we learn more, and as our communities change.
So putting this plan together, I’m assuming that it will need to be changed and updated regularly; I can’t just post it on the website and forget about it. There’ll be feedback from staff about the processes, there’ll be changes in covid, we’ll see things like the development of new vaccines and healthcare strategies.
This means that the Plan itself, and where it lives needs to mutable.
This is a very exciting idea. It’s a lot like lindy hop itself: you have basic structural elements, but it is, fundamentally, about innovation, improvisation, and responding to the needs of its users.

–Why am I doing all this work?–

I have a long history of writing and researching and lecturing, but I am rubbish at presenting my plans and projects in ways that make it easy for the audience to take my work and do their own projects with it.
So I’m deliberately learning how to:

  • Develop a plan
  • Present a plan to stakeholders who have different types of engagement
  • do good community/group consultation and engagement.

I’m also really interested in how social media management can be employed in social justice work, so I’m quite keen on using things like instagram, facebook, etc etc in new and interesting ways. Which, bizarrely (unsurprisingly?) circles back to my doctoral research and academic research, which was all about how small communities use media in unique ways.

–What have I learnt so far?–

One of the most exciting things I’ve learnt so far, is that if a project like this is equitable in design, it actually fights racism, misogyny, homophobia, etc. I think one of the most exciting things about the Camp Jitterbug covid plan, is that it came from the experiences of people of colour, people of a range of genders, people with lived experience doing activist community labour. It’s proof that anti-racist work is good for all of us.

Black European Dancers

I’ve just realised I missed the latest BlackLindy HoppersFund intensive (BOOO) so i thought I’d share this here, so we can all have a look. There are two more left: Dee Daniels Locke on the 30th April, and then Helena Kanini Kiirur on the 25th June.

We all love Dee, right (yes), and if you haven’t seen Helena dance, you need to follow her on instagram right now. RIGHT now.

Anyway, BLHF is one of the very few organisations in the lindy hopping world which hires only Black artists (and pays them real money, not ‘exposure’), and makes it easier for Black dancers to attend the workshops. They are fucking legit on this. And intensives (ie workshops) are really top shelf. I’ve only managed to be involved in three, but they are just the best.
As a student, I had fun, but as a teacher, I learnt that Black teachers work in a different way. And I learnt a lot about these approaches to teaching. If you’ve been following that recent conversation we had in this group about whether a teaching method can be anti-racist, you’ll find these BLHF sessions really interesting. Because they _are_ the definition of anti-racism work.

This is Helena’s ig account. This video blew my mind. It’s such a clear example of how the history of Black dance lives in Black bodies and Black dance _today_. You can’t talk about lindy hop without talking about contemporary Black culture.

I was sorry to see I’d missed Trisha Sewell’s class on lovers’ rock. I got interested in lovers rock (which is a subgenre of reggae) after watching Steve McQueen’s brilliant film ‘Lovers’ Rock’ in his Small Axe series.

This series about Black Music in Europe talks about lovers rock in the UK.

risha is a Black British dancer. She and other female Black British dancers (including people like Angela ‘Cookie’ Andrews) are often left out of stories about lindy hop in the UK. Angela is a truly great dancer. Watching her in this, I just can’t look away. She. Is. So. Good.

Oh, and because there’s MORE, here is a video we all know and love. Featuring Angela and Dee. Cookie told me that she was _judging_ the contest, but just couldn’t help getting in there.

Grey is bringing the shit. Again.

Let’s talk about lindy hop and Blackness – part 1

Grey Armstrong has been writing about Blackness and lindy hop and blues dance for years, and is really really good at it.

Thoughtful, topical, and such engaging writing. He’s been writing at Obsidian Tea for ages and ages, and I’ve personally found this the most meaningful and useful source for information and inspiration. I keep returning to past posts because they keep popping up in my own thinking and writing about this topic.

This is part 1 of a 7 part series (!!). I recommend reading it. It’s important because it actually includes the experiences of contemporary Black dancers, something missing from most lindy hop accounts. Grey invites the reader in: “Is this news to you? When (if) you have attended or read previous discussions, what was your reaction? What were the reactions of your friends and your community?” Grey is a master of speaking to white readers, asking us to reflect on other people’s lives, and of speaking to Black readers, offering a hand of fellowship. It’s true craftsmanship, as a writer, but also the mark of an empathetic, caring person. This engagement makes me want to read more, and wish I could write like this. Very good stuff.

And if you can do (especially if you’re white), please drop a few bucks on Grey, because he works so hard, and the $$ would mean a lot.

the basics of dealing with sexual harassment in lindy hop

ok, I have a bit more time to write.
==First off. This work will fuck you up.==
I and every other woman I know who’s worked extensively on this topic since 2015 (and before) is massively burnt out, and dealt/dealing with vicarious trauma from this work. Many of us (all of us?) have been subjected to threats of violence, legal action, smear campaigns, and worse. For me, the individual offenders were kind of small potatoes. The most distressing part of this has been the way men in the lindy hop scene actively worked to protect and enable offenders. ENABLE offenders. I have generally found that any man who actively objects to safe space policies is a sexual offender, and any woman who actively objects to safe space policies is a survivor. I wish I was generalising.

==Second. If you want to get into this stuff, plan ahead for trauma.==
You need to find a good therapist to talk to, particularly if you are not a man. Because at some point you’ll really realise, at a visceral level, that all these people who object to kicking out sexual offenders are ok with you (and every other woman and girl) being the victim of violence. And that fucks you up. But the work itself (reading endless accounts of assaults, dealing with the obstructionist arseholes, threats of violence, legal actions, and personal defamation) is just so. hard. You can’t do this alone, friend. Get help.

==Third. We have to be bottom-up, not top-down in our actions.==
I eventually realised that we cannot stop men offending. We can’t change the bigger social forces that train men to believe that it’s ok to sexually assault someone, that their pleasure comes before anyone else’s well being.
So the real solution for stamping out sexual assault in a relatively self contained scene like a dance community, is to power up the sisters and potential victims.

We do need codes of conduct and all the institutional changes (and mad props to Sarah, Michael, Charlie etc in Baltimore for their leadership on this). But these processes don’t change the power structures that enable sexual violence by men against women. It’s still powerful people at the top of a hierarchy managing the bodies of people at the bottom. We need to change this shit.
How?
In Sydney we saw incredible results when a group of Asian women started looking out for each other and getting up in the face of an unrelenting white man who targeted Asian women. They would step in when he approached new women dancers. They’d tell young women and girls not to tolerate his shit. They’d actively him skip in class rotation (even when he tried to physically grab them). They pushed and pushed and pushed to get him banned from things. And so on. A clear result of this was a marked increase in the number of poc at our events, not only women, but _all_ poc, because those offenders aren’t just committing acts of sexual violence. They’re also bullies, racist, etc etc.

Not only do we need to get intersectional on this, but we need to reconstruct the bullshit that convinces women dancers to tolerate sexual harassment and violence. And that is often as simple as having them practice saying ‘no thank you’ to dance invites in class.

==Fourth. Know your local laws, use your local resources==
Laws RE sexual assault and harassment differ between countries. Look up your local laws. There are general human rights type laws, but there are also work place safety laws that apply. Be wary of issues like defamation law. Know your shit before you bring the shit. And that means finding a lawyer who specialises in the relevant laws (not just some rando who ‘is a lawyer’). Be ready to fundraise to cover these expenses.

There are services that can help, so you don’t need to reinvent the wheel. Legal Aid can offer free legal advice here in Australia, and there is the equivalent in many other countries. Find the websites and help lines. Look up the excellent posters and campaigns that have already been going on in your country.

Get intersectional. This is a big one. The model a lot of us in the lindy hop world (in the US, Canada, UK, Australia, NZ, parts of Europe) use white, middle class, heterosexual gender roles and relationship models for ‘fixing’ this issue. Look further afield.
– How do Black women manage unwelcome sexual attention? What role do older Black women play in moderating men’s behaviour?
– How does the queer scene address sexual violence against trans kids (here’s an answer: https://www.transhub.org.au/unhealthy-relationships)?
-> You can learn from these examples. Do not, ever, generalise from your own experiences, especially if you are straight, white, living in a city, middle class, and English speaking.

==Fifth. Get local, get specific.==
There have been phenomenal projects undertaken all over the lindy hopping world to deal with this issue.
Dance Safe – 댄스세이프 in Seoul is incredible – they’ve done surveys, worked across a massive local scene to join often-unfriendly groups and individuals on board. They distributed literally boxes and boxes and boxes of info pamphlets. They used posters, they got away from gender binaries. It is just incredible. And locally appropriate, from language to age and culture.
Check out the codes of conduct that Tena Morales’ International Swing Dance Championships have. The language is very specific to the Black community of the US, where people speak English, carry guns, and are dealing with racism.
…and so on. Steal ideas from everyone, but make your work locally relevant, and locally appropriate.

==Sixth. Iterative design is the go==
Iterative design basically means that you’re never ‘finished’ with your code of conduct, your reporting process, your activism. Update your code of conduct annually. Learn from other organisations. You will get better and better at this.

==Seventh what are your limits? What is your code?==
Before you do anything else, write down (or record to camera or voice memo) your limits. What will you tolerate? What will you not tolerate?

My personal limits:
– I will not walk past someone who’s being harassed. I will intervene.
– I will risk physical violence for someone else’s safety.
– I will ask annoying questions in public about an event or person who aren’t fulfilling their duty of care.
– I won’t let men touch me if I don’t want it.
– I will not smile and make nice.
– I will walk away from an unpleasant dance.
– I will say ‘no thank you’ to an unwanted dance invite.
– I work to stay aware of my own privilege and power, and I will leverage them to help out people who need it.

Know what your limits are. Be sure of what you will tolerate.

==Eighth and final: this is about gender.==
We know, beyond doubt, and with mountains of substantiating data, that sexual violence in lindy hop is a problem with men. Men are the vast, vast majority of offenders. Women and girls are the victims/targets. We don’t have data for it (yet), but if we extrapolate from the wider community, men are also the targets of men’s sexual violence.

So men need to fix their shit. They need to step in and take ownership of this issue. Because women like me are far too fucking busy fending off groping hands and lewd comments at the mic, in the DJ booth, or on the dance floor to help your sorry arses. Step the fuck up.

I smell bullshit

Yesterday a white guy had a troll on a productive discussion about teaching lindy hop. The original post in that discussion was

I was teaching “jig walks” today and it was pointed out to me that the word “jig” miiight not be the best of words. Anyone know anything about this?

This is a pretty good way to open a discussion about race in jazz dance, and it’s not the first time it’s come up in that forum. I won’t go into details here, because that’s not the point of my post.
This discussion had last been active about three months ago. Yesterday a white guy commented:

I am the only one with a Color Screen? or all screens are in black and white now?

I could just hear the eyes rolling from the southern hemisphere.

This is a classic tactic by antagonists in a social setting. We see this sort of behaviour in dance classes quite often, where a student (usually a white man, but not always) derails a discussion or activity with a ‘question’ that centers him and his feelings.

In a dance class setting, I would not engage with this questions, as it will eat up time and energy. As a woman teacher (who usually taught as a lead), I would be very quick to manage this sort of behaviour, as it’s a common tactic used by male students to grasp power in the class. So I’d probably ignore that comment and move us along with a practical exercise that demands attention. If the question is actually relevant to the class matter we’re working on, I would make very clear our position on the topic, and then move on. I think it’s worth looking at how we can, as teachers, respond to racist comments in class. Some of the strategies we use for dealing with sexism and homophobia will work here.

This is also a fairly classic and predictable tactic used by white men to derail discussions about racism. Again, the premise of this sort of question is that the interests of white men are more important than those of Black folk, and that antiracist action is somehow less important than ‘real’ topics.

In the context of dance, ‘historical accuracy’ is frequently used as a tactic for de-centering the interests of living Black dancers. In other words, it’s very common to hear a white male ‘dance historian’ argue that Black dancers in the past did X, Y, or Z, and did not talk about how a word was racist, and that if we are interested in historical accuracy, we must center _their_ behaviour. These sorts of ‘historians’ very rarely ask themselves why a Black dancer of a previous generation, making their wage from teaching white people, would not have spoken up about racism.

This is racist because a white person is using the name of a Black person who has passed as a sigil of authority, rather than standing aside for living Black people to speak and address their interests. They are, effectively, taking ownership of a Black elder and that elder’s knowledge. I can only imagine how maddening and infuriating this is for Black dancers.

In my own mind, when I hear this sort of talk from white, male ‘historians’, I think “Ah, here is a white man using the name of Black elders to maintain his own patriarchal power. He is not comfortable with young Black people (of all genders) changing the discussion to address their living needs and issues. So he dismisses issues like ‘language’ as ‘irrelevant’, and derails a productive discussion to recenter himself and his own interests.”

I find this co-opting of Black lives and people very disturbing. It is as though white jazz dance historians are more comfortable with a dead Black man than with living Black people.

(image source)