There was a woman who mocked a little boy for dancing. Unfortunately she was on camera at the time, and the five second misstep was seen by a few million viewers. The backlash was incredible, with throngs of male dancers coming together to validate the child's interest. Professional choreographers and award winning performers leaped up as well, united in their effort to champion his choice. 

 

The woman apologized. 

 

Would it have been better if she had kept her criticism to herself? I became more aware of the groundswell of males in ballet than I was a month ago. Granted there are a couple of banner books on our shelves about boys who move, like Oliver Button is a Sissy, and Max by Rachel Isadora. Maybe they normalized the idea of guys with facile feet. In any case I loved reading them to a pack of kids on the couch. My own daughters enjoy the participation of their male counterparts in tap, hip hop, and ballet. 

 

It would be hypocritical of me to suggest that I never entertain negative thoughts. Mostly I keep them under wraps, to keep things civil. But this whole debacle has me considering what I fully expect to happen in fifteen or twenty years when privacy becomes obsolete. I am not talking about security breaches, but rather the conditions I believe to be ubiquitous in the next life. 

 

How will I deal with the vulnerability of having nowhere to hide? What will the repercussions of being exposed do to the mixed bag of my inner dialogue? 

 

I bet there will be a lot of apologizing.