In the Moment

When I first moved to New York, I made an effort to go to the Greenwich Village Halloween Parade. As New Yorkers had warned me, it was crowded and I didn't see much.

This year I decided to participate in the 36th parade as a dancer in the Thrill the World group. I convinced a friend to join me. We attended a few cold, night practices in Central Park.

It was fun in an odd way to meet a group of strangers at the dimly illuminated bandshell and practice a dance for 2 hours. I'm generally nervous about being in the park in the dark, but my friend accompanied me and the park looked beautiful with the light orange trees glowing in lamp light. Several cyclists, homeless people, couples, and dog walkers would stop to observe us dance.

On Halloween, it was unseasonably warm. For once, my costume wasn't covered with a jacket.

We found our group in the line up by Ghost D and practiced a few times. It was the first time I had seen my fellow dancers in daylight. We were a diverse crowd: Asians, Latinos, Caucasians, African Americans, students, workers, job seekers, retirees, dancers, amateur dancers, middle class, working class, and poor. It is heartening that very different strangers came together to pursue a shared interest.

When we started dancing, I got warm. They sky was cloudy and rain threatened. The air was misty as we embarked on the parade route. The damp felt cool. I started to hope it would rain.

I was surprised by the crush of the crowd. Parade participants walked through our group without knowing we were about to start a dance routine. It was very distracting. I missed steps because I was afraid of hitting someone by accident. We started to warn people to move away, but too many were too obnoxious or drunk to comply.

I was not expecting this interruption. I've participated in the Mermaid Parade for years, and the volunteers in that parade prevent observers from walking in the parade route. It really angered me that I could barely do what I was there to do because crowd control was so weak.

That said, the crowd liked our group once they realized it was a dance performance. It is interesting how people respond uniformly to things. There was a backward step that always got them cheering.

As we made our way down 6th Avenue, the rain got heavier and heavier and the crush of paraders waned. By the time we made it to 21st Street, the situation resembled what I imagined it would be. We had plenty of room to perform the routine.

I was soaking wet, but didn't care. I felt fantastic. The rain cooled me and I had enough space to dance well.

We were directed down 21st Street as a downpour began. Instead of running for shelter, almost everyone in the group stretched their arms out and ran down the street screaming.

It is unusual that a group shared this spontaneous gesture in the same moment. I wonder what it is about us that led to this unchoreographed, synchronized response to the deluge.