Disabled or unwilling?

This past weekend I was given the opportunity to be part of an amazing competition for disabled (differently-abled, pick your pc terminology) dancers. I was the competition MC, so I was also given the opportunity to see the inner workings of a competition and to meet a few interesting people. Most importantly it taught me a world of life lessons.

 

I have no qualms admitting that I'm dancing today, because I accidentally walked into a disabled class during my beginner year at the MDS. I was having a hard time of it and very little of the dancing was actually making much sense to me, so I was very ready to just quit, but one Tuesday I got to class early. There was a disabled class in full swing, with mostly blind dancers. I sat there in awe. These people were doing all the things I was having trouble with and things I hadn't even learned yet and they can't see what they're being taught. So what did I have to gripe about?

 

These days I stick with it, but I still gripe and become grouchy when I don't get things. On Saturday the disabilities ranged from learning difficulties and Down's Syndrome to CP and missing limbs. There were couples there who don't have a fraction of my learning ability doing things I struggle with and doing them better half the time. And I complain that I'm not getting it.

 

There were couples with both partners in wheelchairs. How do you tell one dance from another when nobody is using their feet? But there is no doubt that they were dancing. One boy couldn't move his own chair when he started dancing, he was simply too weak and today he walks on crutches. He also rakes in the gold medals.

 

Then, possibly my favourite, a Down's couple. They were the youngest on the floor and the Latin had them lost. They were supposed to be doing a Cha Cha and a Jive. They Boogied through the lot, happily and enthusiastically. They knew full well that they were lost, you could tell by the way they looked at the other dancers, but they kept going. I would've run away. I have run away from similar situations, but they just kept at it and had fun.

 

I realised how quick we as "normal people" are to say "I can't" and then just give up. How easily we lose track of having fun and start worrying about achievement and how we'll look. If someone without legs and with only one arm can dance a beautiful Slow Foxtrot, why can't I? What's my excuse? If someone who struggles to learn can count a rumba, what's wrong with me. If a blind person can learn 4 dances well enough in 4 weeks to win a competition, why do I go home aggro after class? And most importantly, when did I forget to enjoy my activities for everything they are instead of turning it into something frustrating.

 

I learned on Saturday, that the only true disability is the inability to try. So no, I can't do a perfect open impetus, nor can I climb higher than my fear will let me – yet. But I'll keep trying and soon enough, I will be able.