Shall we social dance?

They spin, they whirl, they twirl each other about. Some are more graceful than others. There is more than one near collision.

Not that it matters. Here, all have two things in common — they don’t judge, and they’re all smiles. Once a week, Fridays at 9 a.m., they put on their shiny shoes, some socks or even just a pair of sandals. And for two hours, inhibitions cease to exist. Tech geeks, athletes, resident writing tutors and a couple of regular Johns and Janes; they’re all represented here at Jammix.

The polkas are popular. The waltzes are a whiz. Music and the constant murmur of voices, giggles and laughter pervade the room. Others lounge at the corners, resting, chatting with friends, seemingly without a care in the world. Some stand alone — but not for long. Within moments, friends, strangers or that special someone who might otherwise be too shy, request the honor of a dance and away they go.

This is the nature of Jammix, Stanford’s social dance experience at its finest. Organized by Bob “Bandana” Carragher and hosted by Richard Powers, this program exemplifies the popularity of social dance here at Stanford. It’s a community where all are welcome — the techies, the fuzzies and those of us born with two left feet.

I’ve always found dancing to be a somewhat bewildering form of social interaction, perhaps because I have no talent for it myself. I find the constant contact painful and terrifying — to be so close to someone, anyone. But here, I see none of that. It is as if all those barriers that we unconsciously erect between ourselves during the week melt away. Four walls, a wooden floor and a pair of sneakers or socks, and it all just disappears. Simple. Effective. Glorious.

The music here is eclectic. It thrills, it chills, and before you know it, your foot is tapping of its own accord. When did that happen? But then, the best part comes. Suddenly, a song by Wild Cherry comes on. They lay down the boogie, play that funky music, and now the whole dance floor is moving more or less as one body. I can only imagine what it must be like if they play the Electric Slide. At the end of the song, there’s clapping and cheering.

What is it about social dance here at Stanford that inspires so much passion in people? What draws people in?

“Innovation,” says Jason Fang ‘05, co-founder of Lindy in White Plaza and long-time member of Stanford dance group Swingkids. “And a little bit of spontaneity.” Naturally. But what does that really mean?

For the answer, one need look no further than the man whose students refer to him as the god of social dance, Richard Powers, a dance historian who lectures in the Dance department.

“My focus has always been on the vernacular, dance as is really done by real people,” he said. “The aim isn’t to teach any formal style, it’s to allow students to be flexible, to adapt to each other.”

But what truly sets apart social dance at Stanford is its vivacious presence.

“It’s unique here,” explains Powers. “There are over 1,100 students in the [Dance] classes. Not to speak badly of any other schools, but it’s not that way anywhere else.”

Of course not. Here on the Farm, we kick it up a notch.

In fact, the sheer magnitude of social dance’s popularity on campus is slightly overwhelming. I sent just one email to my dorm chat list asking if anybody was taking a social dance class here at Stanford and within ten minutes, I was bombarded with over a dozen emails. The emails became so prolific I was forced to create a filter so they wouldn’t clog up my inbox.

Even in casual conversation, social dance manages to shimmy its way to center stage. I had lunch with Jane Goldsmith ‘11 a few days ago, and I asked if there were any classes she’s taking this quarter that she likes.

“Oh, I’m in Social Dance II this quarter,” she said immediately. A fountain of praise followed. The love of social dance is inescapable.

What struck me though, was that no matter whom I asked all gave me a common response. “Oh, you should definitely come to this class.” “This class is great, you should check it out.” “I’m addicted to this class, you should totally try it.” Different words, same sentiment.

Even when I tried to explain that, when I dance, I look like a spastic monkey with a hangover, the response was always the same. It Doesn’t Matter. Anyone, Everyone, Can Learn. All Are Welcome. Come. Try. DANCE.