> On Wed, 27 Oct 1999, "Eric Ferguson" <firstname.lastname@example.org> wrote: > >Could Bruce tell us a bit more of what he teaches, and about what > >habits we have to unlearn?
A bad habit teachers have:
Getting into a circle early by either stepping into it or raising your
hands before the music. I cured myself (most of the time) of raising my
hands early by asking my class to help me not do it. In the process, they
learned not do it also.
> Let me ask you all, the next time you make a mistake, to notice:
> * What kind of help would you have liked? Be specific: would you > have liked to feel something? To see something? To hear > something? A combination of those? What would it have been -- > what touch, what image, what sounds?
Non-verbal. It is so unpleasant when someone in my set or another set
starts giving dance directions. Always is in a loud, commanding tone. I
am so embarrasses to be the recipient of such directions that I can
remember incidents of being told what to do from the 1950's. -- and I
remember who it was.
I remember watching a man in my set give his partner nonverbal directions
by moving his eyebrows and eyes. I was so fascinated, I nearly forgot
the dance. I still cherish this memory.
> * When would you have liked it? For example, two bars before you > went wrong? One bar? One beat? Just after you realized you > wanted help?
Ahead of time: Only if I indicate by look of panic to my partner that I
need help from my partner. OK, so I've been known to give this look to an
oveerconfident partner, but that's another story.)
Examples of best help: Just when I need it. From partner, just lift right
hand slightly if I'm to dance turn right with you -- or cross right. (One
little hint and the dance will drop back into my memory bank.) A twitch
of the shoulder lets me know there's a reel coming up. Clear your throat
if I'm looking the wrong way.
> * How many people would you have liked the help from? Which one(s)? > Where were they at the time?
Would the teachers in the set please keep quiet. I danced in a set of
all teachers last month. We all went awry, we all laughed, none of us
told the others what to do. It was heaven.
Have I said it loud enough: Don't tell me what to do by speaking to me --
or yelling at me.
Priscilla Burrage Vermont US