Civil Steppers

"Civility is the answer to the city's problems. And these childrenare a way in."

by Bruce Schimmel

As I watched young Alexus Banks perform the tango, I thought how Ginger Rogers had to do everything that Fred Astaire did — only backward, in a gown and heels.

Alexus had it worse. The 10-year-old girl had no partner; she was performing alone: a tango-for-uno, if you will. Onstage, swirling in a score of other kids with partners, Alexus flexed herself into a deep dip. Smiling at her imaginary consort, she glanced occasionally out at her mom with a face filled with joy.

"Even when I have to dance by myself," Alexus later said, "I can still hold myself with dignity."

For this little parochial elementary school near Cobbs Creek, this was the final recital of a new program called "Dancing Classrooms" (dancingclassroomsphilly.org), which teaches social skills to fifth-graders through ballroom dancing.

Alexus was dancing solo because there are more girls than boys in Bill Eichlers' class at St. Donato's, and so the girls had to take turns leading themselves through the fox-trot, waltz, rumba, swing and merengue.

But neither a shortage of boys, nor the boys' own physical shortness, upset the polite demeanor of these young ladies and gentlemen. (And we are talking 10-year-olds.)

As couples fox-trotted to Sinatra's "The Way You Look Tonight," a giant, circa-1940s mirrored globe showered everyone in shooting stars. For a moment, the basement auditorium in this old school seemed a beacon of elegance.

"Dancing Classrooms" is a spinoff of a similar program in New York City, the subject of popular documentary Mad Hot Ballroom. In New York, about 25,000 fifth-graders are enrolled in some 200 NYC schools. At the end of its first semester, Philly's program has some reached some 25 classrooms in 14 schools, which will culminate in a performance competition at the Merriam Theater on Dec. 15.

"Ladies and gentleman of St. Donato's," announced the children's dance instructor, Marck "Flaco" Best, "prepare for the merengue!" The children thanked their current partners, and arms held aloft, greeted their new ones — real or imaginary.

The Cuban-born Best is lanky and lean, tailor-made for his formal suit. In his day job, Best stages Latin dance events, where adults get to party hardy. But this is a little different, he says. Teaching fifth-graders ballroom dancing is all about teaching civility.

"Civility is the answer to the city's problems," says Best, "and these children are a way in. Dancing is a lesson in life, manners and self-respect."

Ballroom dancing has also been a personal boon for Amelia Luci, the school's principal. For this occasion, Luci let her red curls cascade over a black velvet dress; masses of silver bracelets tinkled as she moved. Herself a former competitive Latin dancer, the principal soon found herself waltzing with her fifth-graders during the twice-weekly, 10-week course.

Without or with a partner, Alexus Banks was really good. "After school, she takes dancing and ballet lessons," her mom, Dermaine Banks, told me. "She wants to go to the High School for Creative and Performing Arts."

After a finale of swing dancing — which brought teacher Eichler to the stage — the kids caught their breath, as Best started to announce those who'll compete for their school at the Merriam.

"This is one of the toughest things I've ever done," choked Best, as he read a list that did not include Alexus. Oh, no, I thought, looking back at her mom. The revenge of the ballet mother.

But none of the children who were not chosen seemed particularly distraught. Neither was Alexus, nor her mom. "Oh, she's fine," Dermaine told me, "really, she is" — as her child beamed from the stage.

"I see that I'm a good dancer," Alexus told me later. "Other people just don't see that yet."

(bruce@schimmel.com)