Contra Dancing in Maryland, Delaware and Pennsylvania

When I was a young girl, my Girl Scout trip held an annual Father Daughter Square Dance. This was a night I both loved and feared. Loved, because my father and I have always enjoyed music and a night out with him was a guarantee of fun and laughs. Feared, because as corny as country music is, square dancing has always befuddled me. There seemed to be too many people, too many beats, too many steps, and at some point in the evening I knew I'd be four steps off from everyone else and careening into couples. Still, the atmosphere was one of simple pleasure. Full skirts for twirling. Fiddles sawing the air. Men and women bowing politely to each other before swinging arm and arm across the dance floor.

When I was a young woman and Celtic music began to gain wider mainstream exposure, I let a friend talk me into attending a céilidh, the Gaelic equivalent of the square dance. Here again the music charmed me. Irish reels and jigs tripping along the air as clever feet beat in time up and down the hall. Alas, mine were not among the clever feet. Though I found the sets easier to handle, I somehow could never combine the rhythmic footwork with each part of the dance. I would get the footwork right and confound all my partners by forgetting the next move, or get the set right and trip over my own feet.

In contra dance, I found my home. Here was music I could love - sometimes Celtic in flavor, sometimes bluegrass, always with musicians who could sense the mood of the crowd and throw in twists that would delight the dancers and compliment the dances. Here were sets that were just complicated enough to provide interest, without all the dizzying partner changes of square dance. And here was footwork I could handle - namely, none at all. All the dances can be done with a normal walking step, though many experienced dancers like to embellish with stomps and kicks.