She waived the scarves high and low

Written by Julia A. Crawford
Lead Therapeutic Movement Instructor, Bhutanese


Teaching in tough places sometimes means teaching 50 women who speak various dialects of Swahili (and you don’t) without a translator in the middle of a forest in a war zone. And sometimes it means teaching in South Philadelphia with no electricity.

The thing of it is, if the electrical outlets were working that day, it never would have happened.

I was bringing the Bhutanese group to a close with our closing ritual. The same ritual that we have done together since September, but the outlets weren’t working. I improvised, “Come to a circle. Everyone stomp your feet, we need to make a rhythm because the music won’t play. Add any rhythm to it you would like!” The children immediately held the steady beat in their feet and added flourish with unique half time, double time, and some off time clapping.

I entered the circle with my two scarves as I always do each week. I danced. I passed the scarves to a child, who then entered the circle and did a fantastic knee-lifting jig. The children took their turns, one after another, as always. But something special was happening this week, something profound. We were creating the rhythm for each other, we needed each other, and we were supporting one another fluidly and importantly. We were beginning to enter a “thin space” – a transcendent moment.

As the scarves were being passed from child to child I gestured to the four women who had come early to collect their children to join us in the circle. They shook their heads no as they giggled at my offer, yet they were clapping and supporting us with their contributed rhythm. As the last child ended their improvised dance, he handed the scarves back to me. But the momentum was alive and the children were clapping and laughing and dancing about as they maintained the circle, so I took a risk. I danced over to the eldest woman, the grandmother of a child who comes regularly to our sessions.
I danced to her, she met my eyes with hers, and as I handed her the scarves she took them. She stood up slowly and moved with poise to the center of our circle. The children were ecstatic, jumping out of their skin ecstatic. They supported her with strong rhythms and laughter and beaming smiles. She waived the scarves high and low and held my eyes in hers all the while. I clapped for her with an open heart. My eyes were welling up and so were hers. She finished her dance and pressed the palms of her hands together and bowed her head. I did the same.

She danced the scarves over to another child, this child then danced to another mother, who danced too! This mother passed the scarves to another child, who danced to another mother, who also danced! She then passed the scarves to another child who then danced the scarves over to HIS mother. As he handed her the scarves they began to dance together to the sound of our rhythm.
The children burst into cheering as this came to a close. Their voices speaking the words of the BuildaBridge motto, “I will surround myself with people who want the best for me…” resounded like never before. Dancing together heals and connects us.

I went to the grandmother to say thank you, we don’t speak the same language, but we were communicating. I placed my hands on my heart and with my eyes told her that she had moved me. She placed the palms of her hands together again and bowed her head as she moved closer to me and I did the same. And then she hugged me. I was filled up. It was mutual. We had shared a thin space.

Tony Kuschner’s poem entitled “An Undoing World” reads:
You drift away, you're carried by a stream.
Refugee a wanderer you roam;
You lose your way, so it will come to seem:
No Place in Particular is home.
You glance away, your house has disappeared,
The sweater you've been knitting has unpurled.
You live adrift, and everything you feared
Comes to you in this undoing world.

It may be that children and mothers and grandmothers who are seeking refuge in a new country feel that no place in particular is home as they strive to integrate the values and rituals of the past with survival in the present, but it also may be that home can be felt for a moment in someone’s eyes when you are surrounded by people who want the best for you.