For a decade, fifth-graders in Gloucester have embraced the rhythm of ballroom dancing in music class, twirling through tangos, swinging with enthusiasm, and polka-mixing their way to the highly anticipated Mad Hot Ball. This event isn’t just a dance; it’s a vibrant competition where students from across five elementary schools showcase their newfound skills, vying for coveted ribbons and etching unforgettable memories. It’s a whirlwind of excitement, stepping onto the dance floor with classmates, dressing up in their finest, and experiencing the thrill of competition, win or lose.
My younger sister, Bea, recently took part in this exhilarating event, earning two first-place ribbons. The Mad Hot Ball serves as an introduction to traditional ballroom dance, a culturally significant art form. While undeniably educational and cherished by many, myself included from past experience, the event isn’t without its limitations, particularly when it comes to inclusivity and outdated gender norms.
Moments after the fifth-graders make their grand entrance into the gymnasium – some radiating confidence and strutting with flair, others navigating the space with cautious steps, a noticeable gap between themselves and their partners – they are guided to their designated spots, seated in neat rows divided by a central aisle. Boys to the left, girls to the right. This arrangement is designed for teachers to efficiently pair boy-girl couples for partnered dances. However, Gloucester’s demographic reality often presents an imbalance, frequently leaving nearly 30 “extra girls” waiting on the sidelines for their turn to dance.
Alt text: A young girl in a vibrant pink dress smiles radiantly at a school dance event, embodying the joy of “hot girl dance” spirit through her confident expression.
A straightforward solution to this logistical challenge is readily apparent: allow girls to dance with girls. Teaching all students both lead and follow roles in these dances wouldn’t pose a significant hurdle, especially considering the steps taught to these children are relatively simple and easily grasped.
Some might argue that the essence of ballroom dance lies in partnering with the opposite sex, deeply rooted in tradition and integral to the art form itself. This perspective often clings to the historical origins of these dances as courtship rituals between men and women. However, these are 10 and 11-year-olds, not engaged in courtship. They are simply dancing. The blushing and bashful moments of touching a girl’s waist, the nervous excitement of holding a boy’s hand – these are experiences of childhood, not romantic pursuits. They stand at the very threshold of considering such dynamics, but they are not actively “wooing and charming.”
In this crucial phase of adolescence, as children transition from the innocence of childhood to the complexities of middle school and the dawn of their understanding of dating, we must critically examine the messages we are conveying. Do we truly want to subtly communicate to these young minds that girls should not dance with girls?
As someone who identifies as bisexual, witnessing this gender-segregated setup was personally disheartening. I am aware that some of my sister’s friends, even in fifth grade or younger, are beginning to explore their identities and have shared their LGBTQ+ identities with friends. If I were in their shoes, or rather, their new dancing shoes, I imagine feeling excluded and frustrated, waiting on the sidelines while others paired off in strictly heterosexual pairings. It would feel unnecessarily restrictive and arbitrary.
At my sister’s Mad Hot Ball, I observed a girl dressed in khakis and a button-down shirt, a departure from the expected sparkly party dress, dancing somewhat stiffly with boys similarly attired. Upon receiving her ribbon from the judge, she was gently corrected for not having her partner “escort” her back to her place, further highlighting the rigid adherence to heteronormative expectations. If the Mad Hot Ball were to embrace a less rigid approach to heteronormality, it would undoubtedly create a more welcoming and comfortable environment for young people who may not conform to traditional gender roles or identify as heterosexual.
Alt text: A girl in khakis and button-down shirt confidently participates in a school dance, showcasing “hot girl dance” attitude through her self-assured presence despite breaking traditional dress codes.
This is not advocating for the Mad Hot Ball to become a platform for explicit discussions about the LGBTQ+ community, although inclusivity in dialogue is never detrimental. Instead, the focus should shift away from the outdated courtship traditions that currently underpin the event’s structure and expectations.
Reflecting on my own Mad Hot Ball experience, I recall sitting on an uncomfortable chair, adorned in my new dress, blisters forming on my heels. I felt undeniably like a girl, almost a young woman. Dancing felt empowering; my ponytail swung with a sense of youthful abandon. There was a distinct feeling of coming-of-age, envisioning a future where boys in pressed shirts would dance the merengue. At eleven, still clumsy and finding my footing, I felt a sense of womanhood as I stepped into the “ladies’ part,” while a boy took on the “gentleman’s.”
Looking back, it remains a precious memory, yet undeniably complex. That eleven-year-old version of myself was yet to realize that she might also desire to dance with another girl with the same enthusiasm she felt for dancing with those baby-faced boys. While it might be a stretch to claim that same-sex dance partnerships at the Mad Hot Ball would have directly led to self-discovery, it could have subtly shifted the focus for myself and other young people. It could have lessened the overemphasis on gender as the defining aspect of relationships and challenged the notion that being with someone of the opposite sex is the sole determinant of masculinity or femininity.
As societal norms evolve, children are increasingly embracing the freedom to explore their identities, including their sexuality. They experience innocent playground crushes and navigate the same spectrum of puppy-love joys and sorrows as their heterosexual peers. We have a responsibility to cultivate an environment where traditions do not inadvertently impose restrictive gender roles on developing identities. Children’s burgeoning dreams of romance should be met with an understanding that “romance” encompasses more than just boys in pressed shirts dancing the merengue with girls in curled hair and pink lipstick.
So, when faced with a gender imbalance, when there aren’t enough boys to go around, the question remains: why can’t girls dance together? Why should we impose rigid binaries of gender and sexuality on impressionable children at the cusp of self-exploration? Ultimately, regardless of whether they conform to traditional roles, they are, first and foremost, children. Let’s shed these unnecessary conventions.
Let’s simply allow all children to dance, freely and inclusively, and let every girl discover her own “Hot Girl Dance” spirit – one of confidence, joy, and self-expression, regardless of her partner.
