“I don’t have a problem with Catholic Match being an option,” said a fellow Easter Sunday lunch guest. “I have a problem with Catholic Match being the ONLY option.”
I agreed with this enthusiastically, for I am utterly opposed to the tyranny of social media in social life. It bothers me that young women seem to be increasingly frightened of young men they meet in real life as opposed to the protocol of an online dating app. This seems very unfair to honest young men who don’t enjoy writing, or whose spelling or imperfect grasp of standard English puts them at a distinct disadvantage on dating sites.
Then there is the issue of not being particularly photogenic. Many people are much better-looking in real life than they are in photographs. And a photograph cannot capture such attractive characteristics as grace or athleticism. Nor can it illustrate what a young person is like in a community: how he interacts with friends or in a crowd.
That brings me to the subject of the village (or parish) dance, where in the 20th century countless western grandparents and great-grandparents met. Whereas the dances my group organises are by no means “Catholic single dances,” it is a fact that many Catholic singles attend them. My hope is that the increasing strangeness of being physically present in a room with a group of men and women, all clasping hands and dancing together, is offset both by familiar faces, including those of married older people and of the small children milling around.
These particular village dances are morally superior to many a village dance of yore—the kind disliked by priests—because there is zero profit motive and very little drink is taken. There are also chaperones a-plenty, as teenagers are not permitted without parents. And opposed to the old (I am thinking 19th century) custom of young people using village dance as opportunities to violate the customs governing a moral social life, the point to these dances is to restore the customs of a moral social life.They are dedicated to creating new social ties and strengthening old ones. They are about community.
Of course, courtship traditionally occurred within a community, not hidden far from parental eyes. Today it is funny to think that parents used to bring their marriage-age children to dances so that they would meet potential spouses there. (Of course, these were private parties, and all the families present belonged to the same community: it was considered a massive social solipsism to introduce people outside of that community to one’s other guests.) The pressure on girls both to behave with perfect propriety and yet attract male attention must have been intense. However, I don’t think these gatherings–again, among familiars–could have been as fraught with embarrassment as the “First Dates” suffered by my own generation. For one thing, there were many older people one could speak to while waiting to be asked to dance, or while summoning up the courage to ask someone to dance. Also, if a young woman obeyed the Number One Rule of Propriety—never, ever leave the ballroom without a chaperone–she would be almost perfectly safe, whereas contemporary society warns young women on “First Dates” to follow a First Date safety protocol.
I say “almost perfectly safe” because there are still embarrassments that can happen at even at a well-organised and well-chaperoned dance. There are, for the most obvious example, dance partners who dance too close for comfort. And if this happens, the uncomfortable person is going to have to speak up. “Ooh, maybe not so close, eh?” is my very British husband’s suggestion. I would probably say something like, “Hey, this is social ballroom, not Strictly,” or “That’s much too close for me, I’m afraid.” And, of course, it should always be stressed that neither men nor women have to dance with anyone with whom they do not wish to dance. And if a man discovers that no woman wishes to dance with him, he could ask a trusted older person why this may be.
Traditionally this is because the man doesn’t know how to dance, which is why traditionally men took dancing lessons. And, as I have written before, ballroom dance teachers did good business in Edinburgh from the 18th century until the 1960s. Now the man who wants to learn how to dance is much more likely to find Latin American dance teachers or swing dance teachers or Scottish Country Dancing teachers. However, my group is doing its small best to help both men and women learn to waltz for social purposes. In fact, we are having a workshop this evening, so I must go.