February 25, 2006
220.127.116.11…hands down and walk
The fog machines are spitting out clouds of smoke. The lights rotate: red, yellow, blue, green. 18.104.22.168…hands down and walk…22.214.171.124...bye bye bye…hip thrust, twice…and turn and walk.126.96.36.199…down-left…down-right…down-left…down-right…kick right…shoulder, shoulder, shoulder…out, in, up…and 1 and 2 and spin and clap and pump the fists.
This is the second act. The void where the audience was is now a cauldron of screams and applause. I am at the front of the stage, in a basketball jersey, pumping my hands to N’Sync. Four other teachers and I had agreed to do this. We practiced choreographing the song all week, and now here we are going through the steps. The one thing that makes me more self-conscious than singing is dancing. I never do it. But out here it feels okay. How did my shoulder just do that?
Spin…clap…left, than right…pony right…pony left…and break-off…shoot, shoot, shoot and 1 and 2 and finale. The crowd goes nuts.
Things I heard walking out to get something to drink at intermission:
That was amazing...Can you guys do that again?...You have such a great voice...I didn’t know you could sing like that...That was so great, Mr.Raisdana...We should start each class with some singing...Can we take a picture?...I loved that song when I was young...That was great...Thank you.
No, Thank you.
We performed the dance number again at the end of the show. The students ran up to the stage, screaming and waving their arms. It was surreal. Monday morning, we will be back at work and ready to start work on planning our poetry reading in two weeks.