Dirty Dancing at SDA

You may dance like no one is watching, but the truth is that someone actually is, and they are in your class.


Kirsten Walz

Students get down at the Spring dance.

Story by Lily LeaVesseur, Business Manager/CAF Editor

I’ll admit that I like to get down at the occasional school dance. On such a night, I will probably spend an hour getting ready so that I might look like I spent only five minutes throwing together some effortlessly casually cool outfit. I will have prearranged plans to go with friends so that I won’t have to walk in alone, but also so that I may have at least one person who is obligated to tell me I look hot. Then of course I’ll tell myself, “You’ve worked hard this week, Lily. There might be parent/teacher chaperones here, but don’t let that stop You from Only Living Once.”

So, yes, I do like to indulge in the school-dance game. As a teenager in her senior year who is still waiting to be invited to the parties with all the cool drugs, I am not hesitant to walk into a dark and dank high school gymnasium with dozens of sweaty, erratically-moving pre- and post-pubescent bodies and unleash my most famous dance moves. Despite what music pages people ‘like’ on Facebook, no one can resist Turning Down for What to the tune of a good ol’ top-40 song.

I do like these events. I do, I do. I buy into the whole damn thing. And yet.

Even I acknowledge that at a school dance, I act a little bit more dumb and immature than I usually would on a normal day. I yell profanities and throw out rude gestures and do things just short of sexual harassment to friends and strangers. And somehow this is okay, my solid excuse being that I Do What I Want.

I guess what I’m trying to understand is, what gives us the confidence to be so inappropriately different? Maybe I’m just prudish, but is it weird that I freak out when I see my friend’s little cousin getting hormonal on some nameless dank bitty? When Monday rolls around, how am I supposed to look at my close girlfriend or that kid I used to sit next to in math when the last time I saw them they were getting down hardcore on someone’s lap?

I guess it’s none of my business how you do your business on the dance floor. A high school dance is sometimes the only place for you to let your freak flag fly. Who am I, a Berkeley reject, to judge the spandex-clad youth of today for letting your booty get the best of you? Do What You Want, What You Want With Your Body, just know that I am never going to look at you the same way again.