The slow Middle Eastern music increases in tempo.
The ladies’ hips sway side to side in rapid repeat. All three wear black spandex pants and V-neck T-shirts. Scarves, loosely wrapped around their waists, accentuate their movements. Bells jingle in time with the rhythm of the beat.
“Don’t give away the secret,” Carol Wright warns as her hips pop. “If they want to know the secret to the shimmy, tell them to come and see Della.”
The other two women laugh as their torsos undulate. Wright closes her eyes in a losing-herself-to-the-music moment, hands on her rolling and rippling hips.
“Is this too fast?” instructor Della Bynum asks from the side of the room. She has been watching this improvisation for a while, a half-smile on her face, relishing the freedom and artistry of the belly dance.
“We will have to find out,” Wright says.
“This is where you just have fun exploring,” Bynum explains.
Anna Lewis, 22, struggles for a moment, “Which way should I go?”
Lewis has been shaking her hips for about a year now. At 6 years old, she watched her mother and Della’s group perform for her Girl Scout troop.
“My mom is re-inspired whenever she comes to visit and will always make sure she comes back to Della’s class,” Lewis says.
Bynum steps in to help Lewis and demonstrates a front and back roll to add to the dance. The women continue as a solid unit.
It isn’t the shimmy that is the secret, but it is this connection of women coming together to celebrate themselves and each other. Feeling that connection is one of the main reasons why Bynum stays in dance. Bynum, 67, believes belly dancing creates a bond regardless of age, ethnicity, or size.
She should know. She’s been dancing since she was 8 years old and aging hasn’t stopped her. It is a vivacious, beautiful, and uplifting experience.
“It makes you aware of your senses—how you see, hear,” Bynum believes.
Bynum began with traditional ballet, then shifted to modern dance. She moved from Baltimore at 19 to begin school at Creighton University. A business degree wasn’t important to Bynum.
“Dance classes were my love,” she says. “But unless you are teaching dance, you are not assured a position to support yourself.”
She continued taking dance classes and studied ethnic forms of popular dances of the 1970s, including African, Polynesian, and belly dancing. In addition, she performed modern dance with the UNO Moving Company. In 1980, Bynum started teaching her first classes at the YWCA and continued to do so for the next 25 years.
When Bynum retired seven years ago from her day job as a timekeeper for the Omaha Fire Department, she needed…well…something more.
“You need to move more as you age, not less. If you don’t move, you aren’t able to move as well,” Bynum believes.
“You should open up a studio,” a long-time friend and fellow dance instructor told her.
“Hmm…that’s what people do when they are young,” Bynum replied.
With some help from her friend, Bynum did the unthinkable by opening her first studio. After three years, Bynum realized the ceiling was too low for the wavy and slinky arm movements of belly dance. After searching, she discovered a spot in the Center Mall on 42nd Street. After that, it was just a matter of finding economical ways to create a studio.
Bynum teaches four days a week and her crew puts on performances for The Durham Museum, Omaha Performing Arts, Renaissance fairs, and other organizations. The women sew their own costumes for a variety of different styles including tribal, folkloric, and Oriental belly dancing.
A six-year attendee, Michelle Widhalm, 50, says Bynum is holistic in her approach. It is emotional and spiritualistic.
Bynum’s mantra: breathe.
“When I tell people I belly dance, it is interesting to see their reaction. Eyebrows raise,” Widhalm says. “Western culture sexualized the dance. For me, it is about the female connection.”
Widhalm was surprised the older generation seemed more open to the idea, commenting only on how it must be a good form of exercise. In fact, a 2003 study in the New England Journal of Medicine reported social dancing lowered the risk of dementia in the elderly by 76 percent—more than reading. It also reduces stress, releases serotonin, and improves overall physical health.
Bynum’s parents passed away in their 50s, which has motivated her to keep exercising. If someone likes it, he/she will keep active. Belly dancing is multi-generational.
“It’s more of an ageless environment,” Bynum says.
Her oldest client started when she was 80 and quit at 90 due to arthritis.
When Shakira entered the scene in the 2000s, shaking those hips that don’t lie, the belly dancing industry boomed.
So what about those ripped abs?
“I had those when I was young,” Bynum says tapping her black-stockinged feet on the floor to the beat of the music. “But it isn’t about that for me anymore.”
Bynum steps in the front of the class in black leggings with a bright orange scarf tied to her waist, a dark blue shirt, and a whole lot of confidence.
Bynum works with the three women on choreographed moves based on an old saying she modified.
Walk forward, beauty before us.
Walk backward, beauty behind us.
It continues with the side, upward, and downward until the climax.
Beauty within us.
Wright squeals at the end in time with the music, arms raised, and all of them laugh together.
Oh, and the secret to that shimmy?
Bending the knees, breathing, and relaxing.
Visit delladancing.com for more information.