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Before I lay claim to the greatness of that valuable element known as Chicago Style Steppin’, I must first dive back into my murky past… before steppin’ took over my life. I must retell the story of how I was first introduced to the dance. Before we stepped, we all crawled.

A friend of mine invited me out to a spot in Southwest Atlanta. I’m thinking that this was a time to shoot the breeze, listen to some music, and entertain a bit of conversation. At first glance I thought it was just a local bar. And sure it had a dance floor, but in my opinion, what bar didn’t have one? Little to my knowledge, I entered what is known to one and all as the Steppin’ Mecca of the South, AKA Ellery’s. So the DJ started playing some soulful R&B and couples started making their way to the dance floor. Now, at that time I wasn’t all too proficient in the mannerisms that steppin’ tends to include, so my train of thought was heading towards just a regular dance. I was utterly incorrect.

Before I knew it, the dance floor was filled with ladies and gentlemen holding hands and turning to the harmony of the music. My friend had to tap me back to reality and was shocked to know that I never experienced a steppers’ set. We spent the next couple of minutes just talking about what they were doing. And in my moment of observation, a lady stopped at our table and asked me to dance.   I pled my case, letting her know that I was out of my domain, but she insisted and we made our way to the dance floor. I am sad to report my first time steppin’ was possibly the worse performance of my life and needs no further description. After I said goodbye to my friend, I sat in the parking lot and started looking up classes. Pride hurt, I was determined that the next time I go out and ste; I will not make a fool of myself.

My first class, I arrived early, just to make sure I was in the right place. A gentleman arrived carrying a portable speaker and a laptop. We exchanged casual introductions. Upon hearing that this was my first class, the question was dropped like a bomb out the sky… “So, what brings you to class?” And then I relived the moment I thought I would never have to speak about again. We laughed about it as a few people started coming in. I was instructed to learn the basics and took to it rather quickly. Over time, my self-esteem began feeling normal again, until I began to learn to dance with a partner. The fear of making a mistake and placing her in a bad position made me question every step, every motion of my body. I wanted to make sure that I was doing it right, and in that mission, I failed; only to succeed in making myself disappointed and frustrated. It took a few words from my teacher to understand that I was going to make mistakes and that the confidence will continue to grow the more you worked at it.

Three years later, I can happily say that my dance is stronger and so is my character. Dancing has become a vital portion of my life. If I can take one thing away from my experience, it would be that “hard work yields great results”.

Tyrone “Too Tall T” Blackwell

Atlanta, Georgia