There are times when we are overwhelmed by a world which seems to be knocking us down and crushing us under the weight of hate and social inequities. Many of us turn to music and song to lift those blues and inspire us to get back up, persevere, and move forward, yet again. A similar and related method used by many of us is the sheer physical expression of dance, which is both powerful and empowering. Dance is the language of the body. It communicates for us and connects us, across cultures.
While not a dance critic or film reviewer by trade or inclination, I do love dance in all its many forms. From time to time I write about it here, particularly its history and place in our culture.
So my interest was piqued by the announcement of an opening night premiere at the Berkshire International Film Festival. I have finally gotten to see the trailer for STEP, and can’t wait to see the film when it goes into distribution in August.
STEP is the true-life story of a girls’ high-school step team set against the background of the heart of Baltimore. These young women learn to laugh, love and thrive – on and off the stage – even when the world seems to work against them. Empowered by their teachers, teammates, counselors, coaches and families, they chase their ultimate dreams: to win a step championship and to be accepted into college.
Watch the trailer below.
The Berkshire Eagle had this review of the film:
..."STEP"chronicles an under-highlighted population, young black women, who find strength, support and a sense of self-worth as members of the step dance team they founded at the Baltimore Leadership School for Young Women (BLSYW), an all-girls college preparatory public charter school. But during its 83 minutes,the film captivates as it offers a cross-section into the contemporary issues our culture continues to grapple with today: equity, poverty, gender bias, and social justice, among others.
Though these themes and narratives are not uncommon, what makes this film unique is that it banks on the students' long-term rapport with Amanda Lipitz —making an impressive and impactful feature-length documentary film directorial debut — who meets the young women where they're at and in careful,compassionate detail, allows them a platform to express what they've been experiencing. "These young women, this is their story," said Lipitz during a phone interview from California. The film has since been scooped up by FoxSearchlight Pictures, sweeping the director, the students and her team on a whirlwind promotional tour. She said because of the school, founded in 2009 by her mother, Brenda Brown Rever, and the mission given to staff and students, the girls are driven against all odds to finish their senior year and be accepted into colleges."All of that was going to happen," said Lipitz. "I was just privileged being there with a camera."
"STEP" resonates. In addition to winning two awards and three nominations from four festival screenings to-date, the step team members —better known as the "Lethal Ladies of BLSYW" — have captured hearts across the country and attention from the likes of former First Lady Michelle Obama and performing artist Nick Cannon.
For those of you unfamiliar with “Stepping” as a dance form, it has a long history in the African-American community.
Stepping or step-dancing is a form of percussive dance in which the participant's entire body is used as an instrument to produce complex rhythms and sounds through a mixture of footsteps, spoken word, and hand claps. Though stepping may be performed by an individual, it is generally performed by groups of three or more, often in arrangements that resemble military formations.
Stepping may also draw from elements of gymnastics, break dance, tap dance, march, or African and Caribbean dance, or include semi-dangerous stunts as a part of individual routines. The speed of the step depends on the beat and rhythm the performer wants it to sound. Some forms of stepping include the use of props, such as canes, rhythm sticks and/or fire and blindfolds.
The tradition of stepping is rooted within the competitive schoolyard song and dance rituals practiced by historically African American fraternities and sororities, beginning in the mid-1900s
Even before I transferred from an almost all-white city college campus in New York City (just five black students and one Puerto Rican) to attend HBCU Howard University in Washington, DC, I knew about black Greek culture, aka “The Divine Nine.” Both my dad (Kappa Alpha Psi) and mom (Delta Sigma Theta) were members of black Greek organizations, as were many aunts and uncles as well as leaders in our community from W.E.B Du Bois to Martin Luther King Jr. to Shirley Chisholm.
I had already seen the step lines formed by young men pledging a particular frat, some of whom were also members of black drum and bugle corps and famed marching bands from schools like like Florida A&M, Grambling, and Southern. Their choreography drew heavily upon some of the step routines.
In recent years, Stepping has even made it onto Sesame Street.
I hadn’t thought about step and steppin’ as an empowerment tool. The film clearly illustrates the power of syncopation, team discipline, and the joy of unified physical expression in the lives of this particular group of young black women. Dance is more than just entertainment.
Dance also has the capacity to build bridges across ethnic and gender divides.
There’s Ayodele Casel, who was part of Savion Glover’s tap dance troupe NYOTs (Not Your Ordinary Tappers) and performed at the White House for President Bill Clinton in 1998.
Casel, who is black and Puerto Rican, was featured in a New York Times article titled “Ayodele Casel, Tap Storyteller, Lets Her Feet Do the Talking.”
Ms. Casel, a 5-foot-1 bundle of defiant energy with the body fat of a piece of lettuce, was soon speaking in what she calls her “other language,” delivering a rousing, rapid-fire series of rat-a-tat taps with her feet that seemed to ricochet off the walls. This “other language” put the actress, choreographer and dancer in the spotlight most recently last October, when she tapped not to music but to a recording of her own words, at a “Broadway for Hillary” fund-raiser. Michael Mayer, the stage and film director who was working with her that night, said, “Ayodele’s performance stopped the show cold.”
“The audience went insane, there was complete pandemonium,” Mr. Mayer added. “She can tell a story with her feet like very few people can. She’s as good as it gets.”
The seven-minute number she performed that night served as the foundation for what later became her hourlong solo piece, “While I Have the Floor. ” It touches on Ms. Casel’s upbringing in the Bronx and in Puerto Rico and her determination to make it in the world of tap, and it salutes the forgotten black women of tap. “Hollywood thought being a chorus girl was more our speed, and they thought that we lacked the strength to perform flashy steps, or the presence to hold the audience. Not true,” said a recorded monologue to which Ms. Casel tapped in sync. “Because I discovered Jeni LeGon, the first African-American woman to dance with Bill Robinson. Grown woman. Yeah, I know, Shirley Temple, but she was a child, and white.”
Ms. Casel, 40, said in an interview: “I really, really, really want people to hear and experience tap dancing in a different way. I want my audiences to know that this incredibly entertaining, exciting and virtuoso thing they see on stage is really a deeply personal and profound message.”
As a person with a deep interest in history and black women’s history in particular, Casel's calling the names of those women who came before her in breaking the barriers in the tap world—like Jeni LeGon, Lois Bright, Louise Madison, Alice Whitman, Cora LaRedd, and Juanita Pitts—was a moment to savor, and to send me to do some research. It has been frustrating, since not enough has been written—yet.
Dance using the rhythms of stepping, tapping, and stomping feet has also bridged the gap between world cultures and social classes.
The immensely popular “Riverdance” featured the intersection of Irish step dance and tap in “Trading Taps.”
South African miners’ gumboot dancing was birthed under the extreme and oppressive conditions of apartheid.
Gumboot dancing comes from South Africa workers who worked in the gold mines during the migrant labor system and oppressive Apartheid Pass Laws. During this time, workers were separated from their families and forced to work in harsh. The gold mines they worked in were completely dark and flooded. The flooding caused skin breakdown like ulcers and several diseases. Not only was their work environment harsh, but so was the rules or guidelines. Workers were chained to their work stations with shackles and not allowed to speak to one another while working months at a time. Many workers were killed during this work by accidents, while others were beaten and abused.
The flooding became a big problem because so many workers were getting ill. The bosses decided to take the cheaper route in dealing with the problem, so instead of draining the water they bought the workers rubber gumboots to prevent skin breakdown. Like the picture to the left, the workers uniform consists of hardhats, bandannas, jeans/overalls, and gumboots. With this uniform, the workers were not able to show their ethnic identity or carry on their traditions with their clothing, so they turned to another form of expression.
I will never forget attending one of the first performances of STOMP in 1994, when it arrived from the U.K. to my neighborhood on the Lower East Side of New York.
Here was an expression of not simply “dance and rhythms.” It incorporated everyday objects found in lower-income neighborhoods, like trash can lids and brooms, into a riveting performance.
We have many obstacles facing us in the days ahead. There are times you may feel disheartened.
But get up.
Stomp your feet.
Join a march.
Tap dance and step your way to the polling station.
Let these rhythms carry us forward—together.