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I Dance Because I Can

The power of this art lies in our ability to view it outside assumed ideas about the body.

My hands are cold, clammy. They always are when I’m nervous. And I’m nervous, all right. My heart is pounding, too. I have about 30 seconds to settle myself before I swing my right leg up onto the top surface of our ramp stage set, pull hard on the metal drawer handles that are affixed to its edges, and slide up on my stomach into the opening position of the dance. I take a deep breath, close my eyes; the cold surface squeaks as I slide on it. I count another 45 seconds or so before the music starts.

A man facing a window is seated in a wheelchair while lifting a woman who is also seated in a wheelchair.


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