I haven’t been to a dance in a while. Now I remember why.

I’d say that I miss the days when all dances were choreographed but, sadly, I missed that tradition by a hundred years or so. Looking at the circle on the dance floor, I feel like we’ve regressed. Fifteen, maybe twenty, adult kids, swaying and rocking to the music. They’re situated so that no one is behind them; they can see everyone’s reaction to how they’re doing. It’s the perfect vicious circle for self-conscious person. Each is too afraid to do anything that will draw too much attention.

It’s such a sad metaphor for our mediocrity-promoting society. If they danced alone, they could each do something original, something clever, something funny at least. If they danced with a partner, they’d have to give up some options in order to include the other. But it would be just the two of them. They could lift and dip one another. But everyone’s so afraid of connection, of standing out. So they circle up, restricting themselves from spinning around even. Too many people could look at you funny without you noticing. And you can’t break the circle. Then you’re not all friends

OK, maybe I’m just trying to stretch the significance of my petty observation. Really, we’re just talking about dancing (aren’t we?). The funny thing is, geeks try to pretend that they’re above self-consciousness. (This is the annual dance for Quark: the science fiction and fantasy club at my school. Sorry. I failed to mention that.) Bullshit. We’re proud to be nerdy when we’re around other nerds, doing nerdy things. But take us out of our element and, just like everyone else, we drown. And our individuality is the first weight to be thrown overboard.

Poems, songs, everyone who thinks that they’re an individual and fearless, they mourn those who don’t dance out of self-consciousness, people who are too scared that someone might think that they don’t know how to dance. Well, I guess those singers are right. It is sad. Even so, looking at the circle, looking at other people milling around the dance floor, it hits me that half of the people on the floor are there for that same reason! They dance out of self-consciousness. They’re afraid that their friends will think they’re lame or scared. So they shuffle around, careful to observe those friends. “Has my sacrifice has been accepted?” Or, even worse, they dance in order to impress the others; “Look how self-unaware I am! Are you watching?” Most of those people on the dance floor, they have the exact same motivation as those off of the dance floor. The only difference is the manifestation. And that makes them better?

There are maybe three people out there who are dancing for the sheer joy of it. And you know what, they can’t dance. Not even a little. But they don’t care. I’ll take that any day of the week over the dance floor full of people who would rather be hanging out talking with their friends instead of nervously shuffling beside them.

So more power to the people that dance because they want to. And just as much to those who don’t dance because they genuinely don’t get anything from it. You both are the true heroes. As for you all who try and force yourselves to “dance like no one’s watching:” we are watching. And, until you stop caring, you’ll never stop hating that you can’t stop dancing.

Of course, who am I to talk? I hate to dance for all of the wrong reasons. And here I am, at a dance. Because I wanted to make an appearance.

Church or State?

3 comments

i just wrote this for school. might edit it later:

As I follow the presidential debates this year, I can’t help but be bothered by the fact that many of the current issues are really non-issues. While the morality of abortion or of gay marriage is certainly a debatable topic, it is not the job of our governors to determine objective morality. In a nation in which church and state are separate, a new, pertinent ethos must be established.

When the people of the United States decided to ensure that a religious organization could not control the government (and vice versa), they effectively cut off many paths which the US government could take. For all intents and purposes, this means that the state would not be able to act solely on religious interests; if a law was to be passed, there must be a reason other than, “My pastor told me that this is the right thing to do.” Obviously the separation of church and state is not the same as the separation of morality and the state. A moral code is necessary to write law and govern others. However, it is obvious that much of what determines morality is in cultural and religious tradition; a country that is entirely Muslim, for instance, will have a very distinct unspoken ethos. When the state is vastly multicultural, however, a morality based upon a single religious tradition cannot be accepted as the norm. Because of this, the United States – a nation that has come to identify itself both by its separation of church and state and by its many cultures – must find for its government a different kind of ethos – one founded upon something other than religious tradition.

The apparent paradox here is clear; while an ethos is necessary in governing a nation, most ethical codes are based on religious tradition. You might argue that it is acceptable, even desirable, to have our leaders maintain their individual, religious moralities and let our differences balance us. While this is an exceptional ideal, the fact is that our leaders are misinterpreting the role of morality in a government characterized by separation of church and state. It is not the role of the US government to legislate morality (if it can be legislated); the role of the government is to both protect its citizens and to preserve itself as an entity. Until our leaders understand this distinction, the ‘morality melting pot’ theory will only bring about more confusion. It is from this fundamental misunderstanding that confusing pro-life/pro-choice dichotomies arise; we as a people cannot come to an agreement because we are focusing on which is objectively right in a moral sense instead of which protects the citizens and preserves the Union. If the nation were a theocracy, the idea of objective morality would be very germane. This, however, is not the case. I’m not saying that an objective morality doesn’t exist; I am instead asserting that such morality is irrelevant in a government which has decided to shelve the issue.

Clearly, we must adopt a different moral perspective when dealing with our own government. Traditional, religion-based morality is out of the question, as it becomes arbitrary from the constitutional perspective. We must instead adopt a rational morality which will successfully protect the people and preserve the state. In my opinion, the best candidate is a pseudo-Kantian, pragmatic approach to lawmaking: “If everyone were allowed to kill without consequence, would the citizens be protected? Would the state be able to preserve itself?” When political issues are approached with this new morality, we will see a fundamentally forward-thinking movement take off.