I know most of think it comes from the heart and you just eventually move along to the music but there was a time when you - yes, you - had never danced before in public and that was a big step to make, I remember I practiced for months in front of a mirror before I first danced, fortunately I turned out to be pretty good at it and I got confident very quickly. Nerdy kids at our school even danced to things like "Get Out" and "Under My Thumb", it really got them out of their shells. Then you've got some who really want to do it but are just petrified, and no amount of people saying 'just do what you feel' will give them the confidence.
So in that sense, I don't have any complaints about people being taught how to dance. yes, it all looks a bit awkward but so what, nobody's been hurt and maybe a few people will have gained the confidence to dance in public after these lessons when they wouldn't have before.
p.s.
If I can find my dancing lesson post I'll post it up because it's quite funny. The time I tought someone to dance..see below
In 1995 when I lived in St leonards On Sea, I got this phone call from this guy in London who said he'd been given my name by a mutual friend and that I might be able to show him a few basic Northern Soul dance moves, so obviously I said you've got to be f*cking joking to which he said "I'll Pay You", so as I was unemployed I reluctantly agreed to take his money and I'd show him the basic Northern Soul dances.
So he drives down from London one night midweek and despite my embarassment, I spent half an hour teaching him how to shuffle from side to side and by the end of the session he'd just about got it. All this was interspersed with my downstairs neighbour Nancy keep ringing me and saying "You Dancing?" to which I have to reply "You Asking"....
anyway we finished the 'lesson' and I said you mentioned payment, and he says oh yes of course, thanks ever so much, I've really enjoyed it, I'll just go and get the money, so I watched him from the landing go down the stairs, out of the door, into his car and off down the street at about 60 miles an hour, leaving me hot, sweaty, embarrassed and ripped off - if he's on here, you owe me £20 you b*stard.