I have an imagined reality that plays in my head when I think about access and dance. It changes and becomes more and more beautiful and utopic as I learn and adapt to new information. 


Currently, it looks like this.


I see a physically accessible space, not only accessible to meet legal requirements, but decked out in features that would allow disabled and non disabled bodies alike to play and enjoy themselves. I see teachers and professors trained in accessible learning, giving an offering of movement to a group. Some students try on the offering, feel into it, and adapt it to themselves. I see some students observing, not on the sidelines like they’ve been forcibly excluded, but fully immersed in the group. Some sit, some wander, taking in the information in ways that make sense individually. I am in this crowd of dancers, taking space for myself in the back of the room and not feeling pressured to try on or refuse the offering. I am among a few who are settling in our bodies in a different way. I wiggle and stim and try on other bodies’ movement in between my grounding repetition. I see other bodies doing the same. I see a mess of processing in a beautifully diverse range of ways. We listen to ourselves and our teacher equally. 


To an observing eye, the room looks nonsensical, illogical. I want to bask in the illogic of an accessible dance space. I want contradictions to sit visibly in the room with us. I want community and love to ground the bodies here and for the feeling of the space to be overwhelmingly of giddy and deep playfulness. 


The rules of this space are non-rules. The rules here are only in place to undo rules that used to organize the in-between-the-lines. There is no longer space for things to exist in the unsaid.

The non-rules are as follows:

Take breaks. We are in no rush. Rest.

Ask for help. Provide help when needed. Mutual support holds this community. 

It does not matter what anyone else is doing. Do what is best for you.

There is no wrong way to exist in this space.