In an age when we are bombarded daily with various groups self-identifying as specific subsets of our society we can become weary. Who can keep up with all the complaints, outrages, and slights that each subset decries as they carry out their personal mission to carve out a niche? I can’t. It seems that everyone is angry, this subset railing against that one. Personally, I am sick and tired of listening to all the bellyaching.
At least there is one place where ethnicity, language, religion, age, skin color, and gender simply do not matter—at my local Zumba class. Each Saturday I can look forward to spending a whole hour with about sixty souls who simply love to dance. This common thread, the love of music, movement, and exercise, binds each and every one of us together in One Big Smile. Seriously, looking at the faces reflected in the mirror one can see what joy really looks like.
I dance alongside people of every color and creed, and it is amazing. We may struggle sometimes to understand each other, but our smiles communicate all that really needs to be said. Over the two years since I started taking Zumba dance cardio classes I have made connections with gals and guys through this shared passion, making it even more fun to come to class now. We know each other by name, give hugs, chat about our lives, and gear up for the next hour when our amazing Zumba instructor, Ailyn (pronounced just like my name, Eileen) takes us on one big sweaty dance journey.
Ailyn hails from Peru. This girl embodies soul, sensuality, and boundless energy, elevating each of us to try new moves, although no one quite masters them like her. She is earthy and fun, beautiful and full of inner, radiant joy. This captivating soul essence is something that emanates through her pores and draws us in to join her, best we can, as she leads us in dance. No way can you take her class and bring any petty identity politics with you, they would not be welcome.
Music and dance are so powerful in their universality. When surrounded by the pulsating merengue beat, the salsa moves, the hip-hop inflections, sultry vocals, no way can you bring any surly self-pity to the dance floor. There we are, moving as one body, one people, each our own stripe—Asian, Hispanic, black, white, gay, straight, believers, atheists—not only getting along but truly enjoying each other’s company and the camaraderie. Zumba is the ultimate remedy for brokenness; instead of dividing us, Zumba unites us. It's the epitome of the melting pot in action; multiculturalism on fire, sizzling on the dance floor like a colorful stew.
I highly recommend getting your groove on at Zumba. You will fry about a thousand calories, at least in Ailyn’s class, and you will see a sea of smiles reflected in that big, wall-to-wall mirror. And a smile doesn’t have an identity. It just is.