Hip Hop 101

I’m not really a person that has to go out looking for opportunities to humiliate myself. Those situations usually tend to find me. This is a story of self-inflicted humiliation.

Being in New York is an amazing opportunity because there is always something going on. I decided on day one that I was going to take advantage of as many of the things NY has to offer as I could.  Tonight I attended a Hip-Hop class.

The last dance class I attended was in 1998. The day I saw Mulan I decided I was finished with dancing and Karate was for me. The day I hung up my leotard also seemed to be the day I lost any type of rhythm or dance coordination. The Cupid Shuffle is out of my league and I always considered myself the exception to the song, “I Hope You Dance.”

Tonight I rode the train to the dance studio. The entire time I was trying to talk myself out of this ludicrous act I was about to commit. I arrived at the studio in my Sperry’s and khaki shorts and saw immediately that I was out of place. I didn’t have a flat-billed Yankees hat with the stickers still on it or any untied high-top Nikes. I learned very quickly that owning the Nicki Minaj CD didn’t make me as thug as I though it did.

If their attire wasn’t intimidating enough their intensity was. The only Dougie I know is my father and I still haven’t figured out how “Jerkin” is positive thing. One small man in his tight v-neck shirt had already staked claim right in front of the mirror when I got there. He did not play games! He would add things and kept using the word “Choreo!” After about ten minutes I figured out that was an "Abreive," for choreography.

Class was fun for the most part. There was one kid that was even worse than me and he made me feel a little bit better about my lack of ability. We both decided to ignore the rule that every five minutes each row would move up so that eventually everyone got to stand right in front of the mirror.

I wasn’t near as bad as I though I would be but I still can’t “Dance Like Nobody is Watching!” FACT: There are always people watching in a room full of mirrors.

I haven’t decided if I’m going to attend next week so I can learn the rest of the “Choreo,” but I definitely have a newfound respect for dancers. Despite the judgment I received I am very glad I attended Hip-Hop 101. Only in NYC would I be brave enough to “booty pop” and “body roll!”

In the meantime, keep an eye out for me on “So You Think You Can Dance!”

Week 1: A Story fueled by Snickers and Park Benches

I’ve finally decided to try my hand at blogging. This could be the most epic fail of my life but I guess we will find out. I’m sorry if you must be a part of the process of finding out that it sucks the ultimate suck!

For the first time in my life I feel I might have some blog worthy material but you are the ultimate judge of that. I recently started an internship in New York with World Vision. World Vision is a Christian humanitarian organization.

I believe I’m finally getting the hang of city life. I no longer smile at everyone I pass or feel the urge to say hello to complete strangers. I believe I frightened a good number of people with my bursts of friendliness but I am under control now. I’m sure they blamed it on Turret’s.   

I have the privilege of riding the subway to work everyday for an hour. I work in the Bronx and my office is located in the poorest congressional district in the United States. It is a less than uplifting commute. I always end up feeling guilty and blessed at the same time.

The other day on my commute home a man on the train started asking for food. I began to look through my bag to see if I had anything left over from lunch. Turns out I had a Snickers. I felt really stupid handing him a candy bar and I could feel the other people on the train judging me. Never in the past has the fear of being judged stopped me so why start now?  Just as I was feeling self conscious about my offering he replied with, “ Thank you! Snickers Satisfies!” Now I rarely get on the Subway without at least one Snickers.

Considering I am in the city without anyone I know it limits activities. People watching has become my newest hobby but I am very strategic so I don’t look like a complete creeper. There are a ton of parks in NY so finding a park bench and pretending to read is quite easy. Yesterday I was committing this very act when a man asked if he could sit next to me. Normally I would be a little skeptical but I was feeling very confident with Hillary Yetter’s tazor within reach. He sat down and started talking immediately. He had a lot of questions and I asked him questions back to be courteous. The next question really caught me off guard. He asked if I was a Christian. I was not prepared to answer but I knew I had an answer for him. We ended up talking about Christianity and Jesus Christ for about three hours. The entire time we sat and talked I was trying to convince myself that it was real life. He had questions and for the most part I had answers. Woody was raised as a Jehovah Witness and was from Haiti but had been studying Christianity. He had struggles with the Bible just as I do and talking with him was a blessing. I learned a lot from him and I hope I didn’t lead him astray in his study. I truly am grateful that I met Woody not only because the only Woody I knew previously had a snake in his boot and an astronaut friend named Buzz.

Today’s encounter was a little less serious. I met a very nice musician that insisted I sing with him. He played the entire Sgt. Peppers album and made me play the maracas. I did not give in on the singing though and for that he should be grateful.

I hope reading my sorry attempt at a blog post was not too painful.

Message from Educators Everywhere: Reading this blog should be followed by the reading of a great piece of literature to counteract the negative effect this garbage could have on you intellectually.