In this age of renewed and redefined feminism and our angst about the political push and pull over rights for women (a battle that is both encouraging and maddening), I thought some nice words about good guys would be a great way to finish the weekend.
I spent two hours today in my new-found happy place: Dance Church. This is a big dance studio in a local neighborhood that holds space each week for a rave. In the daylight and with old people and children and everyone else. It’s amazing and has become the source of my smile for a number of reasons, chief of which is that I love to watch the men who come to dance.
Before my husband has a coronary, let me explain myself. Today, I watched a father and his toddler boy. The little one was clinging to his dad for dear life as Dad danced him around in joyful circles all over the room. They both had the most gleeful expressions on their faces—looked like pure bliss for both.
In another corner of the room, a tall gentleman glided smoothly in geometric patterns of rhythm, stopping every now and then to shake hands with some of the more senior movers and shakers passing him by.
Another older man wears one neon orange sneaker and one neon pink sneaker, and spends the time giving little kiddos “slide-rides” across the floor on some of the large scarves available for all to play with.
There are several other men who are just there doing their thing—looking totally comfortable with themselves, enjoying their expressions and explorations, keeping to the corners or soaking up the energy in the middle. I imagine these men to be gay, straight, artists, accountants, saints and sinners, fathers, sons, brothers, and friends.
My husband is another (and my favorite) of the men I watch—mostly because I was completely surprised he came with me in the first place. At first he joined in because it was Mother’s Day and he volunteered because that’s what I wanted to do. Fast forward to several minutes into the music, and this man I married was out in the middle of the floor, hands up, eyes closed, smiling and grooving like the bad-ass Irishman he is.
My point in telling this story is that I think men have a confusing path to walk today. I am fully engaged in being a powerful woman and I love the new evolution of feminism. The gender landscape can change in a hurry as we women further define our power and step into the confidence it takes to wield it wisely. I am so grateful for men who embrace these changes as both genders learn more about what it means to be men, women, or somewhere in between.
So thank you from the bottom of my heart for men who are willing to be vulnerable and emotional and joyful and playful as much as they are strong and masculine. May we all continue to dance with joy around and with each other and teach our sons and daughters how to do the same.
Dance your Wobbly dance, and have a great week.