The Irony of Being A Person of Principle

Today I was at a belly dance hafli, where there were performances by some of my students from the past, as well as dancers with whom I consider myself friendly with, and my peers. In fact, a handful there had also at one time been members of my dance troupe as well. One of these dancers (I will call her "Air") who had been a student and troupe member, and who has gone on to teach and perform publicly came and spoke with me a short while. She has been going to a club that features belly dancers and live music, probably to hang out as well as to dance. I know a few of my other past students have been going there as well.

Air began by mentioning that a couple of musicians with whom I used to work with had asked about me, as well as some other dancers. Since they hadn't seen me in a while, they were wondering where I'd been and how I was doing. While I certainly didn't keep it a secret that I "retired" from the night club and restaurant scene a few years ago, I also didn't exactly take out an ad in the paper to announce it either, so I suppose not everyone knows or understands the reason why I haven't been seen around or performing in these places. But I think that they should have a sense. Especially someone like Air, who had been an active student and troupe member with me while I was still active in the night club sceen, and saw and heard firsthand what my experiences were like. Or maybe her memory is just "different" than mine?

Air spoke of this one particular restaurant. I will call it "The Blue Hat" restaurant, where they have been having live music and dancers. The irony of this conversation is that of course, here is Air beaming and smiling about how wonderful it is to go to The Blue Hat, and dance with the live band, when Air had been one of the dancers who was with me when some difficult circumstances occurred. Allow me to explain.

First, I have had a few students who I will refer to as "Students Who Have Gone Bad" and they each deserve their own blogs, which are forthcoming.  "Students Who Have Gone Bad" are basically dancers who came to me and became my student, tried to pretend to be my friend, and sometimes were members of my troupe, but who ended up leaving "badly" (i.e. they had to leave the claw marks before letting go of the student-teacher relationship by behaving poorly and causing drama) or behaving otherwise "badly" (i.e. they did something inappropriately mean or wrong, like poaching on my students or gigs, or undercutting and stealing students, classes or gigs, and villainizing me in the end in some ludicrus manner in order to justify their own bad behaviour and reason for breaking off from me).

The Blue Hat was a restaurant that I had been booking and dancing at, and which was poached from me by a former student and "friend" (to be blogged about soon as well) whom I will call "Itch". But, at the time, trying to be a better person and accepting that students sometimes become ambitious and competitive, and that business is business, I decided to try a gig there with my troupe, in spite of the fact that 1. I knew the management and owner wanted only commercially attractive dancers (i.e. white, young, skinny, seemingly available, and pretty girls) and 2. I'd been burned there by the ex-student gone bad who stole my gig there. I wanted to put my differences behind me in order to be able to offer the performance opportunity to my own dancers. My rationale being: Why should they miss out on a good opportunity in the present, because of a bad experience in my past?

My troupe consisted at the time of not-necessarily what is considered commercially attractive. That is, I had women of different ages, weight, sizes, looks, and skin color. But Itch, the ex-student gone bad who had stolen the gig from me and who was obviously now the booking dancer at The Blue Hat assured me that management knew and understood this and that she was definitely sure that we would be acceptable as entertainment that evening.

WRONG.

We rehearsed for our group troupe performances and solos, got all dolled up, brought our family and friends with us, and prepared for our big night there. So there we were, all standing there, dressed and ready to go on, our friends and family sitting at tables and eating and drinking. Everyone eager and happy and excited to see our show, and us, excited and happy to perform it.

While we were arriving and preparing, apparently, management and owner decided that they did not like the look of our troupe members and that they definitely DID NOT want us to perform. Rather than telling me directly, as the Artistic Director of the troupe, the management and owner told a waiter, to tell the band, to tell me (fhew! and how mature is that?), that we in no uncertain terms were NOT to go on.

I cannot describe adequately in words how incredibly horrified and heartbroke and foolish I felt. There we were literally all in costume and standing in the hall waiting for our cue to begin, and all of our friends and family in the restaurant already at tables eating and drinking and waiting to see their loved ones go on. And I had to tell my dancers that we could not perform after all!!!

It was a nightmare for me. And of course, I do not have the heart to even step foot in that place now, after what I had to go through. Itch of course was not there and so was of no help at the moment. Itch had assured me it was OK. Did Itch have no clue what management wanted? Was she being lied to or misled herself? Was this some kind of a set up or sick joke?

So, pardon me if I see the irony in this story; That Air thinks so highly of this place and has no problem going there now, when at the time, she was one of us, and she was there with us, when this happened. But, I guess that is how eager dancers are to experience the satisfaction of performing in public...and I understand that enthusiasm because I too have felt that way as a dancer and new performer: so eager and grateful and happy just to have those few moments of bliss, dancing in public with a live band!

I think it is my sense of principle that makes me unwilling and uninterested to perform in or patronize this place. They put me in the most terrible position possible: insulting and demeaning myself, my dancers, and my art. I can't help but find it ironic that the same dancers, such as Air, who they rejected and inconvenienced in such a shallow and shady way, can justify going there.