Class teaches fancy footwork to Parkinson's patients
Dancers move and groove at Kennedy Center despite degenerative disease
Lucy Bowen McCauley says her dance class for adults with Parkinson's disease is more about improving her students' attitude than their physical condition.
So when directing a shoulder exercise that requires her 10 students seated in folding chairs to save their weak legs to make a windmill motion with their arms, it's hard to tell if she's telling them how to complete an exercise or how to cope with the debilitating disease.
McCauley's students take her dance class largely because they choose to focus on the ups more than the downs when dealing with their illness, which attacks the central nervous system and eliminates control over even the simplest bodily functions.
"When the music starts I can command my body rather than it commanding me," said Bethesda resident Mimie Meltzer, who was diagnosed with Parkinson's eight years ago.
At last week's practice in Silver Spring the group was ironing out the final details of a performance that can only be described as an "up." The class performed Sunday on the Millennium Stage at the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts in Washington, D.C.
Two years ago, after McCauley went to New York City to learn how to teach dance to people with Parkinson's, she began the "Dance For PD" program through a partnership with the Parkinson Foundation of the National Capital Area and her Arlington, Va.-based dance troupe Bowen McCauley Dance.
Every class begins with a half hour of stretching and exercises, all conducted while the dancers are sitting in folding chairs to save their weak legs. The exercises are simple but they reveal which of the members have the most severe forms of the disease.
Of the participants, Rockville resident Bill Sanders has the most noticeable shaking in his arms and legs, the main physical symptoms of Parkinson's. At just 54 years old, he has had Parkinson's for 20 years. He is by far the class's youngest member but is also its most spirited, and other members often ask him for help with the various choreography.
"I thought I would be able to keep up at first," said Sanders, who has earned the nickname "Curly" from other class members because of his long beard and hair. "But I found out if you can't keep up, just try harder."
After the seated stretching exercises, the class moves to their feet and the dance bar. With one hand on the bar holding them steady "The No. 1 rule is no falling!'" McCauley shouts the group goes through leg stretches.
It's at this point, before they reach the actual rehearsal of Sunday's performance, that some of the members become fatigued. Nancy Glass, an 80-year-old from Wheaton, spends the rest of the class seated in a chair against the wall of the studio because her muscles are just too tired.
"You never know what you are going to feel like" each day, said Glass, who has had Parkinson's for 20 years. "I didn't do very well today but I've given up trying to be perfect."
When she was younger, Glass taught an exercise class at the YMCA and ran 10K races. Now she says she "will be walking along and all of a sudden my body stops."
Many of the other members had active pasts taken away by Parkinson's. Before her diagnosis Meltzer's favorite hobbies were hiking and dancing. Sanders played pick-up basketball every week.
"I used to be afraid to dance because I'd fall on my face," said Washington, D.C., resident Ruth Foster of living with Parkinson's before she found the class. "I decided I'm going to live or I'm going to die, but I'm not simply going to exist."
The group takes the final half hour of its hour-and-15-minute practice to rehearse Sunday's routine. Starting in a single-file line, the group then spreads out for individual dancing as the music kicks in (the song, titled "If I Can't Dance," was written by a local musician with Parkinson's).
Dancing by himself is difficult for Sanders, and as soon as they break out individually, his eyes search for another dancer with whom he can lock arms. Once he's safely found his partner, the entire group coalesces into a circle for the grand finale.
It begins with Sanders nodding to the person next to him, setting off a chain of nods until it completes the circle back to him. The group then forms back into a line, all facing the stage for the final bow, with each performer showing off their "jazz hands," an accent to a dance performance characterized by raised hands and shaking fingers.
It's at that point that Sanders dons a big smile. After a nearly three-minute routine, he's found a dance move he can perform better than anyone else.