Really, who uses an abacus anymore? Besides this kid, I mean.
Although I would define myself as an American first, I am infinitely proud to be of Asian descent. Why? Because we can do everything well if we set our minds to it. Last year I went to a B-Boy event in which the Korean b-boys completely demolished the competition. I’ve always watched Asian b-boys via youtube but never had been so close to one before. I was in awe, and even more determined than ever to continue honing my breaking skills.
The thing is, I have always had an aversion to watching people dance at parties. My brain removes the music and the other people, and the person ends up gyrating in solitude and silence. The image is all too disturbing, and unorganized dancing therefore is something that is only appropriate in David Lynch movies. It simply creeps me out.
Organized dance and dance performances, however, that’s a different story. I love watching people dance as part of competition or on a stage.
For the aforementioned reasons, parties make me uncomfortable, but performances excite me. Watching Asians in performance inspires me, and I feel connected to them in a way that is really quite unfounded.
The problem is that my motor skills are in the 5th percentile, I am guessing, when compared to preschoolers. Consider this – Asian preschoolers, these days, can do this.
What?! Puts me to shame.
Even after seeing that, I still feel a confidence that is completely ill-supported. I say ill-supported because the support has mainly been provided to me by my friends and family who love me too much to tell me that my moves are just not in-sync with the music. They have not the heart to tell me that not every song should be a robot dance. I believe they have both faith and fear that I may try to pursue a singing and dancing career after my work in special education ends here in Guatemala. Fear, especially because I usually am breathless even before the song’s bridge hits.
Malcolm Gladwell proposes a 10,000 hour rule. Practice for 10,000 hours at one thing, and you’ll become an expert at that thing. I’ve danced an average of 5 minutes everyday, from the time I was a young child. I’ve calculated myself to be at about 1000 hours. At that rate I’ll be dead by the time I’m an international dancing superstar. Or if I pick it up now, with whatever little time I have free each day, I’ll be a senior citizen at the very least.
I only just realized now that my dream of becoming an-awkward-girl-turned-b-girl may never come true. Maybe I should start working on the world’s hardest math problem, using an abacus.
Before that kid beats me to it.
