Spotlite Dancer
Nailah

Dance has always intrigued me as a source of personal expression. I explored its various forms but found ballet to be regimented, modern too abstract, and ballroom dependent upon having a partner.

Over twenty years ago, through an adult education class I discovered the ancient art of Middle Eastern dance. Katina, a noted local dancer at the time, introduced me to the sinuous movements of this earthy dance. Unlike other dances, it was created by and for women and celebrates the uniqueness of women. A fertility dance. A birth dance. A dance expressing the joys of being female. In addition, it provided a fitness program comparable to aerobics but in a true dance form. Needless to say, I was hooked.

I furthered my studies with Basha, a renowned dancer and institution in the Middle Eastern dance community. My inspire-ation, Basha had performed for sheiks, had been rolled out of a Persian carpet like Cleopatra, and had performed around the world as a cabaret dancer. From her, I gained a passion and respect for the dance. Through her influence I met other dancers at seminars and shows, absorbing new techniques.

However, the dance’s popularity had peaked in the 1970’s when the women’s movement had been in full swing. By the time I signed up for lessons in the 1980’s, the art form was losing out to disco and the like. The dance community seemed to fade into oblivion and teachers were few and far between. I kept up with the dance by viewing videotapes and dancing along with masters like Delilah out of Seattle.

As the 21st century approached, the dance had been rediscovered and revitalized.

I discovered new teachers with mirrored studios and other women as passionate about the dance as myself. Though I had grown older, Middle Eastern dance does not discriminate.

A woman of any age from toddler to senior citizen is accepted into the sisterhood of the dance. I studied with new fervor with local teachers like Cassandra Al Warda and Mizeyah and at seminars with renowned international dancers like Suzanna Del Vecchio, Jasmine Jahal, Zahra Zuhair, Phyllida, Tamra Henna and Jillina. New skills like floor work, zil playing, cane dancing and balancing a sword and scimitar entered my repertoire.

I joined a dance troupe and performed professionally in a local Moroccan restaurant. Together and individually we danced more for joy than for money. I learned about dank dressing areas, costum-ing and make-up, teamwork, working with professional drummers and musicians, the importance of choreography, and how the show must go on.

There is nothing like a live audience to dance in front of and interact with. From children to senior citizens, the audience radiates a sense of joy and excitement when experiencing the dance. Sharing the dance with others and educating them is paramount.

When 9-11 occurred, many in the dance community thought Middle Eastern dance, by virtue of its origins, was finished. Some dancers quit dancing in protest.

Others lost performing jobs due to a bias against anything Arabic.

The dance, though, has continued to thrive as it has for thousands of years.

Middle Eastern dance isn’t about a region of the world but of self-expression and the celebration of womanhood. It is a protest against the repression of women by the Taliban and Islamic extremists. The dance promotes freedom.

During the past few years, the dance has been revived. Modern singers and performers, like Shakira, incorporate Middle Eastern dance movements in their performances and videos. Their music resonates with Middle Eastern rhythms. Hip Hop singers and dancers use the movements and beat as a part of their shows. The dance has evolved and keeps evolving.

Now, I proudly teach the dance, to share its joy with others and direct and perform with a new local troupe, The Cleveland Oasis Dance Company. I have evolved as well.

I dance because I must. It is a part of me like every breath I take. For as long as I live the dance shall live within me.