iAhora, bailamos!

Bailamos en la clase de Espanol.

(Or, we dance in Spanish class.)

I don't know why.  

I don't know whose idea this was. 

I don't know who benefits from this. 

But today, Senora Goldstein decided that our Intro to Spanish class needed to know how to dance before prom on Saturday.

She lectured us about how sad it was that our generation doesn’t know how to dance, in her opinion.  She interrupted her own class time, and told us all to stand up, with guys on one side of the room and girls on the other.  She can be a bit loca sometimes, so we were pretty sure she was joking.  Unfortunately, she wasn't.



While the girls were, for the most part, extremely excited,
the boys looked ready to walk to their own funerals.

 

I stood next to my best friend, Kelsey, looking down at my feet.  I'm not shy, but I certainly did NOT want to dance with any of my amigos.  We then entered the World of Awkward, as I looked up and saw my friend Evan standing across from me, my dancing partner.

Senora Goldstein found a YouTube song (in Spanish, of course), and showed us what we were going to do.  She was so excited... I felt a little bad for being such a teenager, standing sullenly with my arms crossed.  She put her left foot forward, brought it back in, and put her right foot back.  Easy enough.  We all copied her. 

Then she wanted to show us how to do the same thing with our partners.  She asked for a volunteer, and ended up with her arms around Sneed (officially Cody Sneed), slow dancing with him around the Spanish classroom.

Sneed, who really does have red hair, sweeping Senora Goldstein off her feet... kinda.

              Senora Goldstein put Sneed's hand behind her back, put her own hand on his shoulder, then held his free hand, as they salsad (salsaed?  salsaid?  past-tense of salsa.) around the room.  He looked like he could have thrown up.
            While Evan and I awkwardly tried to imitate the happy couple, many others were actually getting into it.  Senora Goldstein had said that we didn't actually have to hold hands if we didn't want to, which we didn't.  That may have made things more difficult, but we didn't really care too much.  One of the Maybellines, Jessica, danced near me with her boyfriend, perfectly.  I have always had two left feet, and kept apologizing to my friend for stepping on his feet.  Jessica saw me struggling, rolled her eyes, and dropped her partner's hand to try to teach me.  She shoved Evan out of the way, grabbed my hand, and danced with me.  I know she was trying to help, but honestly, I don't think anything could have worked.  When she thought I had it, she relocated Evan, and put us in the same position as Senora Goldstein and Sneed, hands together.  (And I must say, I'm glad I'm not the only one with sweaty palms.)
           I don't know how long we danced like that, but I can tell you, I am not any more prepared for dancing at prom than I am for running the marathon.  Now, I just have to hope that Senora Goldstein won't grade us on our dancing skills.
          The next time I write a note, it will definitely be about the happenings at prom, which is on Saturday.  So there's something to look forward to!

Teacher's coming, so I'm folding the note up.  Please pass it on!
Grace Kent