As the sun sets on a chilly Thursday night in Morningside, Maryland, dancers are making their way into the VFW.
“You’re not worried about the light bill that’s due. You’re not worrying about work tomorrow, because you’re dealing with today,” line dance instructor Deirdre Seabrook said.
Line dancers from around the D.C. area come together to learn the latest routines and revisit favorite dances. Some come to dance despite great adversity.
“We have a lot of people, government workers, who have lost their jobs. But one thing about the line dance community, it’s truly a community, and we look out for one another,” Seabrook said.
Others love the camaraderie.
“Line dancing to me is like freedom,” dancer Jeanette Cherry said.
Urban line dance is more than well-choreographed expression; for many, it’s a form of Black joy, a call to community and alliance and an expression of unity in the face of an oppressive environment for many people of color.
On this night, the oldest dancer was 87. The youngest was 28-year-old Alexia Jones.
“It don’t matter who you are, where you are, what your level of dance level is. If you come, you will definitely be embraced,” she said.
With the growth of online platforms such as TikTok, videos of urban line dances often go viral, with millions of people quickly learning and creating new steps to older R&B classics, creating a recent resurgence in urban line dance.
‘How do we create community in this moment?’
News4 visited Howard University’s College of Fine Arts to get a better understanding of the origin of urban line dance in America, which some historians trace back to enslavement and African and Caribbean influence.
“It’s always represented unity. It’s always represented unified movement and thinking about keeping the community in line, keeping the community moving together as one,” said Dr. Raquel Monroe, dean of the fine arts college. She has written about line dancing.
“When we think about it in terms of social justice, it refers back to the idea of: How do we create community in this moment?” she said.
Line dancing has been seen at protests.
“It is a way to demonstrate community. It’s a way to keep spirits high. It’s a way to demonstrate joy inside of struggle,” Monroe said.
Line dancing is just one example of Black joy as a form of resistance and self-preservation. Community organizers have also stressed the importance of investing in forms of self-care, social gatherings, supporting Black businesses and reading Black authors.
In December, the singer 803Fresh released “Boots on the Ground.” The song’s accompanying line dance spread quickly, with millions of views on TikTok.
As a newly elected president worked to quickly dismantle diversity, equity and inclusion programs and end federal careers that helped sustain many Black families in the D.C. region, the idea of “Boots on the Ground” took on a new meaning for many dancers, as if passionately popping their fans was political.
“Line dancing is a democratic form because it provides access to folks with different capacities and interests and ages, races,” Monroe said. “It, in and of itself, is a demonstration of democracy in motion.”
News4 worked on learning “Boots on the Ground” with some help from the VFW’s line dancers.
Jones reflected on the purpose of dancing.
“Regardless of what is happening and who is in office and what things they are doing or not doing, God is always in control. He’s number one,” she said. “There’s a time to cry, there’s a time to dance. We’re coming to dance.”
1,300 swimmers from 38 states came to D.C. for the Black History Invitational Swim Meet, founded by former Mayor Marion Barry to tackle swimming disparities in the Black community. News4’s Jessica Albert reports.
