Dancing is one part raw fun, one part magic, and one part expression. It rewards people on a spectrum of skills, from the fluid art of professional ballet to the rhythmic absurdity of a party.
In the weeks before our vacation, a
group of seniors at school was preparing a dance to perform for an event. I love being energetically engaged
in things, and this opportunity was no exception, especially as it was a dance and I attack an excuse I have to make a fool of myself to music. However, the song that
we chose, as well as some of the choreography, disgusted me. The meaning and
background behind Britney Spear’s Toxic
and Womanizer doesn’t respect the
beauty of faithful relationships nor does it honor true manliness, yet I feared
that I would be destroying an opportunity to connect with classmates. For two
weeks, it sloshed around in my head. Finally, I made the decision that I wasn’t
going to work on art that affirmed detestable ideas. Because of the language barrier, the conversation that
followed, as I extricated myself from the group, was certainly difficult, but essential, for I would not glorify detestable actions.
Nevertheless, these events were followed by an amazing
opportunity. For four days, I rested my brain
from the fogginess of conversing
in French and gave it a vacation in England. The school’s middle-school English
immersion class travels to England once a year, and this year they brought
along an American. Though it was strange to be an 18-year-old student in a
group of 13 to 14-year-olds, I was in England and couldn’t complain. To get
there, we rode the ferry from Calais to Dover, so my first glimpse of the
country was of the white cliffs guarding the harbor. Our first two days, we
jet-toured London, only stopping to give an hour to the National Gallery. In
the evenings, English families housed us, giving us a true taste of what life
is like in Britain and giving me people to relentlessly converse with—in
English. In addition, we experienced a day in an English school. The difference
between my Belgian school, which tends towards lecturing, notes, and strict
discipline, starkly contrasted with this English school where teachers utilized
questions, asked the students to create material, and had much more relaxed
behavioral standards. Passing Canterbury on our last day, we stopped to visit
for a few hours. The grand cathedral, rich in history, separated me from the others,
who tasted the Canterbury shops, as I feasted on the story of Thomas Becket’s
assassination that has made the Canterbury Cathedral a destination for pilgrims
over hundreds of years. As we returned to la Belgique, God put the soft glow of a sunset over the English Channel at our backs.
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| Worn by the final steps of countless journeys to Canterbury |
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| Goodbye England! |
I was with you in England
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