Dance Like Nobody's Watching

I was going to post a very different entry today about the hundreds of Filipino women who crowd the streets of Hong Kong on Sundays, socializing with friends and family, seeking to capture a few moments of their own culture and reminisce about home. But then these two little girls danced into my frame, and I couldn't think of a better photo to leave Hong Kong with than this one.

We live right above a large shopping mall on the harbor and sometimes on Sunday afternoons a jazz band plays in the center court. This afternoon a wonderful trio was playing American classics to the delight of these two little shoppers who cared far less about their mom's shopping spree than they did about the music.

They whirled and twirled and swung each other around the floor, oblivious to the cameras snapping shots of them in their spring dresses. They were surprisingly good, dancing in time with the music, embracing every bit of rhythm they had in their shiny patent leather shoes. They'd like you to think they had practiced somewhere, perhaps in front of their mirrors at home, but there was a freedom and undisciplined happiness about their dance that begged otherwise.

Chinese children, especially those from privileged families, are often trained in numerous musical (and various other) disciplines, and can be quite accomplished even by the time they graduate elementary school. They play piano, violin, flute, recorder and cello. In addition, they study tennis, golf, swimming, skating, and badminton. Outside their regular studies, they learn English, Mandarin, Cantonese, sometimes Japanese and even French. And this is all in addition to the hours they put in at school, sometimes up to 10 hours a day. The training is always intense, strict, and fiercely competitive, like everything else in the educational life of a Chinese child.

But dancing is not one of the disciplines regularly undertaken. I'd like to think in the highly-competitive, highly-stressed world that confronts young Chinese children that dancing is for fun, not work, a release of happiness and a simple means of candid expression. It's not something you're graded on or have to practice. It's just who you are; and you dance, even when lots and lots of people are watching, simply because you can.

In an overcrowded society that can be both frenetic and frenzied, where order is often derived out of strict discipline and education is largely based on repetitive rote learning, these moments of carefree childish abandon are precious and all too few. Children are cherished in China, perhaps too much so, simply because only one child is allowed. All the expectations, hopes and dreams of a family are heaped upon a single set of tiny shoulders being nurtured, molded and groomed to be brighter, more talented, more successful, more cultured than the generations before them. These children, now more so than ever, are expected to make the most of what's happening in China today, to take advantage of everything their parents perhaps couldn't, and to do It better, faster and more easily than the child next to them.

For the moment, however, these two little girls are in their own world, feet flying, skirts twirling, tiny hair bows struggling to contain shiny strands that long to escape and join the dance. There's no teacher, no lessons, no scolding maestro. There's only the music and the sunlight and the sound of new patent leather shoes on the marble floor. And laughter, lots and lots of laughter!

We could learn a thing or two from these girls - and from William W. Purkey, who gave us the timeless and wonderful quote:

"You've gotta dance like there's nobody watching,
Love like you'll never be hurt,
Sing like there's nobody listening,
And live like it's heaven on earth."