Herstory of the dance in Springfield, a continuation of Gita's biography
Part One
Posted on July 22, 2005
Where to begin? What would be most interesting for someone who doesn’t know me to read? Or even for someone who thinks they know me. Well, I am Pisces, so don’t expect me to tell you everything—we fishies like to keep our depths a secret.
About fifty years ago, my father returned from Spain with a French-Moroccan wife and a stack of Middle Eastern music records. Something about that music resonated with me in, the same way Hollywood movies with belly dancers thrilled and intrigued me. Seeing my stepmother Claire dance around the kitchen doing some more earthy moves gave me a glimpse of true folkloric style.
Fast forward twenty years and find me in a yoga class with a woman who told me about a young girl here in Springfield who was teaching belly dance classes. Coincidentally, a short time later my best friend from high school called me and said she was going to take her 10 year old daughter to belly dance (because the little girl wouldn’t take ballet), and asked if I wanted to go along. So I did and stayed with the dance, but they dropped out after a few lessons.
My first teacher was Sumaya Raja, who had come from her home in Yemen to study at what was then Southwest Missouri State University (SMS). She was a lovely girl and taught us a true baladi style in the traditional manner. This means the teacher shows the students a movement (which has no name or real description), and they try to copy what she is doing. This is the way you would learn the dance as a child living in her country. Very much “Monkey see, monkey do.” I love this method because it seems so pure and natural—you listen to the music and you move within that magic realm of rhythm and the heartbeat of the drum.
After studying for several months with Sumaya, I became restless and uncomfortable, but not because of Sumaya, who was one of the sweetest young women I have ever known. But she had too many students to fit them into her schedule, so she turned my class over to her sister, Suad Raja. Suad was a totally different type of person. She always seemed to me to project a smoldering, sullen attitude. I was never sure if it was because she held American women in contempt for trying to learn “her dance,” or perhaps she didn’t really want to help Sumaya. I know she resented the fact that Sumaya was in love with an American boy she had met at SMS.
Anyway, I started looking around for another teacher and gravitated to my friend from yoga class, Shirley. She and another dancer, Nadine, had opened a studio called Shirna (using the first part of both their names—which I thought was really cute). It was during my classes with them that I received my introduction to what turned out to be a love/hate relationship with those devilish little zills. (It has only taken almost thirty years for me to begin to appreciate the beauty and artistry of them—thank you, Angela!)
I am not sure how long I studied with Shirna. Probably a year and a half or maybe two. One evening in class Shirley was telling us about another teacher, named Shebba, who had opened a studio here in Springfield. The way she described Shebba aroused my curiosity, so I found our her name (Marie) and called to ask if I could visit her class. She was so friendly and nice over the phone that I was drawn to her personality at once. Sure enough, when I went to that first class, I knew I had found my teacher. She was a bundle of energy, totally dedicated to Middle Eastern dance and a down-home sort of girl. With Shebba, what you saw was what you got. In that way she was akin to her own favorite teachers, Morocco and Dahlena. Interestingly enough, in that first class with Shebba I met two other students who turned out to be life-long friends—Joanne (La Phedra) and Donna (the late much-loved Jasara). Joanne had to drop out of the dance due to health problems, but not before she introduced Middle Eastern dance in Nevada, Missouri. While she was teaching there, I had the privilege of attending a workshop she sponsored which was taught by Nejat, who has since retired. Zada from Lawrence, Kansas told me that Nejat was her mentor in the dance, and she still misses her very much.
I think all students who stay with the dance will find one teacher that they will always hold dear to their heart, no matter what future joys or tragedies they may have in their career.
For me, that teacher was Shebba. She was the sister I never had, the teacher who inspired me to always respect our dance form, the girl-friend who was a barrel of fun and one of several people in my life with whom I have felt a Karmic tie that transcends time and space. Unfortunately, after studying and performing with Shebba for about four years, I was forced to leave her. She had been experiencing mood swings and personality changes which eventually drove away her students. Those alterations in her persona took a downward spiral into a full depression which, tragically, led to her suicide in the fall of 1978. I will spare you the details, but it was like watching a runaway freight train on a downhill slope. I sensed what the inevitable consequence would be but was powerless to stop it. It was devastating.
Home
Contact Us
Biographies
Class
Meet Up
Links
Events
Archives
Gallery
Reviews
Articles
Contents, Materials, Images © 2005 ©
Jemina Kathaleen Shikany
Site Created and Maintained by Jemina Shikany
P.O. Box 4581, Springfield, MO, 65808-4581
Questions or Comments please Contact Us
Last Updated on July 27, 2005