In
all fairness, I had no idea that I was going to be asked to dance. Had I
been forewarned, I would have tried to learn some basic routine and a
few moves. Left unprepared, I was forced to rely upon my past
experiences. Unfortunate for everybody, my previous dance experience is
limited to The Wiggles, The Chicken Dance, and The Hokey Pokey. Feeling
pressured to perform, I resorted to mimicking the moves from all of
them during my dance routine.
After
watching my disjointed attempts at dancing with a look of disbelief
(keep in mind it is difficult to shock transgender and other unique
performers), the crew tried to guide my movements. Standing behind the
camera, they began dancing to the song, hoping that I would loosen up
and follow suit. I tried my best to follow along, but my moves were
always two beats behind the music. I think that they underestimated my
dancing disability!
Although I want to face
palm myself every time I relive the dancing, it was an experience that I
will always cherish. It isn't often that somebody is invited into a
completely different culture. From the crew to the performers on hand,
it was enlightening to experience something completely foreign from my
regular routine.
The shock I felt when
meeting my fellow cast mates (the transgender performer named Clover,
the nearly 8 foot lady with platform heels and the man in the bustier
sporting velvet gloves and a riding crop) was reciprocated when they saw
me remove my prosthesis. I found it odd that individuals who live such
flamboyant lives would be surprised by me simply removing my leg. After
all, I think nothing of people whipping off their prosthetic arms and
legs.
"Normal" is not a fixed state but rather
fluid and based upon experiences. The performers I met are used to
gaudy costumes, lace and leather, and over the top accessories. Their
norm was more theatrical based, creating characters for gender
exploration and shock value.
My norm involves
keeping legs lined up against my bedroom wall so that I can choose
appropriately in the morning. I'm sure that my wall of legs is a
surprise to people who do not frequent my home, but we don't even give
it a thought anymore. At the end of the day, it is all a matter of
perspective and experience.
I've had been
trying to figure out a similarity between me and the performers, but
perhaps I have been over thinking it. I think that the answer was right
in front of me the whole time. In the end, we all just want to be
accepted and be able to live happy and fulfilling lives. It doesn't
matter what somebody wears, whether it be clothing intended for another
gender or a prosthesis for a missing limb. We all deserve to be
respected and permitted to live to the best of our abilities.
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