11.17.2011

hansen keohane, no pain no gain.

Ranting time!

So. If anybody knows me personally, they know I'm a competitive Irish dancer. They know this entails a ginger wig that looks like a small, dead animal, lots of foot ADD and terms nobody can pronounce (ceilis = kay-lees and oireachtas = o-rock-tuhs). They know I sacrifice my Friday nights and my Saturday mornings, my feet and my sanity to Irish dance. They know I obsess over getting steps right, that I hum along to the music as I dance and I love gossiping with my outrageous dance friends on water break.

They also know how angry I get when someone refers to what I do as Riverdancing (just to set the record straight: Riverdance was the popular show that aired in 1995 and caused Irish dance to become more popular. It is a show, not a type of dance. It's like saying someone who acts in musicals is Broadwaying) or leprechauns or pretend that they know how because they've seen Papelbon's giddy Shippin' Up to Boston celebration in 2007. 

Those people piss me off because they think it's a joke, some weird little accordion thing that pale people do in their spare time. They don't respect it, or appreciate exactly how much effort and dedication all us dancers invest in our classes and competitions. They just hop around, imitating the Lucky Charms guy, with a big idiot grin on their faces as if we're supposed to find their ignorance amusing.  

Then there are the people who go around writing negative articles and shaking their heads at the competitive world of Irish dance. We've evolved greatly from the days of lace dresses ad obscurity; now, we apply tanner to our legs and faces, apply various powder and liquid makeup to accentuate our features, buy dresses that, on a good day, might cost less than a thousand dollars. People shake their heads at our Snookified skin and our rhinestoned dresses and ask, "Where'd the culture go?" As if Irish dance has become just another beauty pageant, as if it's become more about the bling than the dancing. Last time I checked, it takes infinitely more skill to perform toe stands and clicks than it does to smile and wave at a judge. 

Irish dancers are working harder than ever; it's grown from a simple pastime to an athletic activity, complete with taped knees and bleeding toes. Just because we wear expensive dresses and put on some lip liner doesn't mean we've lost our way; we've just caught up with the rest of the dance world (you want somebody to hate, try the ballroom dancing community--rumor has it they make little girls wear padded bras). We don't deserve all this hate and all this prejudice. Until you've spent a solid two hour practice inside the studio with me, practicing your shuffles until you can't see straight, then I don't want to hear a word.

And also, just because we're not wearing harps or Irish lace or whatever doesn't mean the "culture's gone", assholes. The culture's still very much alive; in the music and in our passion.

I mean, you do really think I would dedicate so much time to this if I didn't have Irish pride?

Good luck to anybody competing in the Oireachtas this weekend! Break legs.



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