As I was doing a little winter cleaning over the holidays, I stumbled upon a wonderful piece of history - a copy of “Arthur Murray’s Dance Book” from the early 1940’s.
These little booklets were part of how Mr. Murray spread the joys and teachings of dancing to masses. Each book contained illustrations, diagrams, anecdotes, stories, dancing do’s & don’ts, advice, and more.
I took a few moments to flip through the tea-stained pages and found an article written by Mr. Murray himself that I just had to share. In it, he describes how he came to love dancing, the obstacles he overcame, and what he believes dancing could do for not only individuals but for the nation.
HOW I OVERCAME AN INFERIORITY COMPLEX
An Article by Arthur Murray
I was excessively tall from age. At fifteen I was five feet eleven, and painfully self-conscious. We lived in New York, and my home was on the East Side, where youngsters are not noted for politeness. “Hi skinny!” — “Hello, stringbean!” were remarks dinned regularly unto my sensitive ears, making me all the more diffident and unhappy.
Perhaps it was my self-consciousness that made me very shy. At any rate I was shy — and shyness brought about a certain backwardness and gawkiness, so that at such parties as I was invited to, and at school gatherings, the girls all ducked me.
I was quite miserable, and eventually my work at school became affected. And the fact that through illness and I didn't graduate from public school until I was almost sixteen, added to my humiliation and unhappiness.
After some months at High School I could stand it no longer. I thought I was too old to be in the first year of High School, and of course my height was still a source of keen embarrassment to me. By this time, too, my awkwardness and diffidence had become pernicious habits. I decided to quit school — and my parents reluctantly agreed.
Within the next six months I had ten jobs and was fired from every one of them. Not because I did not try hard enough, but because I did not have what it takes to make good: Assurance, Aggressiveness, Poise.
My parents then advised me to go back to school. I did so, and was more discouraged than ever, The girls shunned me, and when I couldn't resist looking in at a dance, I was a wallflower.
Finally a girl in my class took pity on me and offered to show me some steps. Because I was awkward and ill at ease, I found it hard to learn. But she had the patience, and in due time I could dance.
This achievement — for it was an achievement! — gave me a keen sense of liberation. I was more like other boys. And I loved dancing. It seemed to bring me out of myself. But, the thought of going to a school dance still frightened me.
Out of desperation came a plan. The immigrant colonies on the East Side celebrated their weddings with dances. I selected a wedding where I was sure I would not be known, and barged in. After watching a while I picked up the courage to ask one of the girls to dance. To my surprise, she smiled and agreed.
That dance was a delight and a revelation. Here I was dancing with a girl, leading her easily through a crowd, mixing with scores of other dancers — and no one thought me out of place! No one thought of my height; no one said I was clumsy. I was just like anyone else in the hall! It was a wonderful sensation.
I went home that night, happy for the first time in many years. And from that time on I haunted the East Side weddings. I still lacked the courage to dance with acquaintances. But outside of my own neighborhood, I was becoming bolder and bolder.
Enters Dance Contest
Then something extraordinary happened. One of the settlement houses gave a ball at which a prize was offered for the best dancers. Inspired with superhuman daring, I entered the contest.
My partner and I won the prize!
““ ... and because it was dancing that released me from what threatened to be a life of bondage, I can well testify to the therapeutic value of dancing.””
In that moment my confidence in myself was firmly established. When I left the settlement house I was a free youth, knowing that I could associate with others on an equal basis. So sure of myself in fact, did I become, that I brazenly applied for a job as an instructor at a dance hall — and got it! That was how I made a start in my profession.
And because I suffered so much myself through supposed deficiencies, and because it was dancing that released me from what threatened to be a life of bondage, I can well testify to the therapeutic value of dancing.
My own case reminds me of that of a girl who came to us, very much depressed. She was unusually tall — six feet. In an attempt to make her height less conspicuous she had fallen into habit of stopping slightly, and this gave her a sort of hunchbacked appearance.
But the teacher was quick to detect any virtues that the girl, Edith, might have as a dancer, and to praise them. And by the time her first lesson was finished, Edith had become extremely interested. There was a new light in her eyes, color in her cheeks, and her body had straightened out perceptibly. The music and dance steps had given her a feeling of exhilaration that was already apparent in her manner and posture.
Edith came to us for a half hour every day, and each day she became a more normal person. In time she became a really beautiful dancer. Her height was an asset rather than a detriment, and it was a pleasure to see that tall, slender figure move through the graceful patterns of a tango or glide with smooth swiftness to the strains of a Viennese Waltz.
She no longer came into the studio with her head down and her lips set sullenly. She held herself erect and proudly. When she entered a room it was with the awareness that she would make a favorable impression. That gave her new confidence, and a certain graciousness that added immeasurably to her charm.
All of this was the result of the liberating influence of dancing. Dancing had forced her to exhibit herself, and in so exhibiting herself, she had forgotten her inhibitions. Dancing had brought her companionship — and through companionship she had discovered that people saw virtues in her that she had not suspected she possessed.
Dancing, in short, had transformed her from a shy, inarticulate girl into a poised, self-possessed young woman. A young woman ready to assume her rightful place in society; fully equipped to enjoy the gaiety and popularity that are youth’s rightful heritage and every girl's dreams. Moreover, dancing had given her a more wholesome viewpoint on life.
During the 30 years in which I have taught dancing, I have known any number of people whose lives have been radically improved by dancing. And I have become convinced that this art should not be looked upon merely as a recreation or as an attractive exercise. There are qualities in the dance which far surpass mere entertainment or exercise. The dance is a vitally important factor in our social plan, the American way of life, and should be acknowledged as such.
Social workers and psychologists have long recognized the value of ballroom dancing not only as a panacea for overstrained nerves and a corrective for certain physical deficiencies, but also for its effect on the general morale. I know that, for they send me pupils continually. I only wish that the public generally were as well aware of this value. I believe there would be many more happy people if it were.”