Today is a big step for me... I finally decided to put this on paper. I still feel pain in my heart, and my body shivers when I think about these events. I have gathered up all my courage and I will start to write one article (story) at a time about my experiences in the Contact Improvisation (CI) world--as a woman, as a Person of Color, as a beginner--dealing with cis-male power and authority, consent, boundaries, and oppression. This is my story...
Twenty Years of Coming to Terms: Shifting from Disempowerment to Activism and Systemic Thinking
Twenty years ago, I attended my very first Contact Improvisation workshop. My teacher, Karl Frost, skillfully twirled and swooped me around his body, and I felt a sense of connection and freedom I did not know was possible. The sky opened and a choir of angels sang, and in that moment of life-changing epiphany, I decided to dedicate the rest of my life to Contact Improvisation. And that is exactly what I have done. But something else happened that day that will forever be intertwined with my Contact Improvisation epiphany. The other feeling was not an epiphany at all… it was the opposite. I participated in something that I didn’t want to do, but only figured it out partway through.
It’s a typical Wednesday night in Toronto. In a third-floor ballroom, some forty people have come to dance together. A bow lifts and settles on cello strings and one can see the bodies absorb the first awaited note. A couple in the corner are intertwined in a rolling dance in which it is hard to figure out whose body is whose. A high-flying trio graciously makes its way around them. The bodies in this space are engaged in a type of group sensory “listening” that uses all the senses to gauge space and direction of momentum. There are all types of dancers here, from those that dance professionally to those that do it for fun. The ages span nineteen-year-olds to seventy+, and include diverse body types. ....
Contact Improv Consent Culture: Building consent-based culture 