Michael Power:
CLASS OF 1967

John McEachern High SchoolClass of 1967
Powder springs, GA
Michael's Story
Dancing Lessons 101
It was the the P.E. teachers decided we needed more than pushups and dodgeball—we needed to learn how to dance. It was probably the 10th grade of the 64-65 school year, when both the girls and boys P.E. class was directed to go to the Old Gym in our street clothes. Upon entering there were the P.E. teachers, Miss Parrie Pinyan and Mr. Wade Nobles. The genders were segregated and told to sit in the bleachers with a wide gap between them. It was at this point the reason for our presence was announced. We were to be taught how to dance.
A record was dropped onto the turntable and started playing some easy listening tune. Pinyan and Nobles approached each other and assumed a dancing posture. As they were gliding along to the music they explained the type of dance they were demonstrating was known as the box step, slide right, step forward, slide left, step back and repeat.
After the demonstration the girls were told to gather together on the floor, remove one shoe, make a pile of them, and return to their seats. The boys were then told to pick a shoe from the pile, thereby selecting their dance partner. During this instruction, the boys’ heads were raised and turned like meerkats toward the girls to discern what kind of shoe a particular girl was still wearing.
When the word was given to pick a shoe there was flurry of motion to be some of the first to reach the shoe pile. I saw one guy actually sniff a shoe and put it back. I’m not sure if he cont...Expand for more
inued to use the smell test to make his final decision. Nevertheless, the pile was rapidly becoming smaller. Once all of the shoes had been selected, the girls were told to retrieve their shoe from their dance partner. In a way this was a practical way of moving the lesson along. Otherwise, there would have been an inordinate amount of time to choose a partner if left up to the students. It also avoided any embarrassment of those who would have been chosen late in the pairing. Sort of like being the last or near the last chosen for a team.
So, we all assumed our dancing positions with the mandatory 12-inches between bodies. The music starts. Feet and legs begin to move woodenly. Awkwardness reigns to some syrupy tune rhyming 'spoon’ with 'moon’ and 'June.' Left foot forward, step to the right, left foot back and then step to the left. Rinse and repeat for the next half-hour. Clammy hands. Nervous and sporadic conversation with . . . . with . . . .honestly, who was this girl. Sheepish eyes finding refuge in staring at our feet. Time dilated making a half-hour feel like a full hour. The steps were simple and easy to learn but it was done without emotion. It became robotic. There was no fluidity.
Despite its promotion by the faculty, the box step was never exhibited on a high school dance floor. Nor was the 12-inch gap between the bodies of the dance partners. Instead, the preferred dance step evolved into a type of swaying motion to the chagrin of faculty chaperones.
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