In 2011 Marcia moved to the Bay Area from Wisconsin with her husband and two daughters. Intimidated by Oakland’s massive population, Marcia worried that her family would not fit in or find the tight knit community they had experienced before. At her local park, Marcia ran into a former Luna Dance MPACT teacher who encouraged her to take Luna’s free family dance class at the West Oakland Library.

On a cold and windy day, Marcia, her husband and two daughters bundled up and headed out for their first MPACT (Moving Parents and Children Together) dance class. Though shy at first, Marcia’s family broke out of their shell, leaping, turning and dancing full out. They continued attending weekly classes and the bond between them deepened into taking greater risks in movement. They jumped into the following session at Lotus Bloom and began to form long-term friendships.

Four families hug, kiss, and hold hands, greeting each other before class.
Shaky arms, shaky legs, and shaky gallops fill the room.
Children and parents create shapes to move over, under, around and through.
The energy breams with feelings of joy, love, security and comfort.

With each class the communal bond between Marcia’s family and three other families blossomed into play dates, babysitting-swaps, and eventually the formation of a cooperative preschool. From West Oakland Library to Lotus Bloom, then to Cesar Chavez Library and 81st Ave., each of these families followed MPACT classes when they were offered by Luna.

I spoke to Marcia, recently, and she told me that without the community created by MPACT for over three years, she and her family would have been lost in Oakland. Marcia is just one of many parents who share with me how significant MPACT classes are in building trust and community. Parents and children find MPACT a safe and nurturing place to play and dance together–increasing confidence in each dancing participant, enhancing the immediate parent and child relationship, and invigorating a sense of unity that carries on outside of the dance room.

At a typical monthly assembly at New Highland Academy (NHA), where I teach dance as a Luna teaching artist, I experienced a moment of personal transformation. Acting as emcee, teacher Ms. E struck up “Down by the Bay” on her guitar and in moments the room was filled with exuberant singing voices. Such joyful scenes are common at NHA, where the arts—music, visual art, and dance—are central to the school culture. School assemblies and “artist of the month” awards showcase arts’ importance, and this month’s gathering featured a dance performance by a class of adrenaline-pumped 2nd graders. Dancing with expression, poise and focus, the act of performing transformed them from a squirrely pack of reluctant listeners into serious dance artists. As the applause died down, the Vice Principal buzzed in over the loud speaker:

We are officially on lock down.
Local police have informed us of violent activity outside the school.
No one may leave the cafeteria until further notice.

Gasps and murmurs spread through the room. Some kindergartners broke into tears. Instinctively, Ms. E. snatched up her guitar. “If we’re stuck here, we might as well sing!” And sing we did. The students’ favorite was a tune in Spanish that had them dance various body parts in different ways. I was struck by how absorbed they were in the movement. With tear marks still on their cheeks, Kindergartners smiled, sang and danced with gusto.

At once I felt a new sense of gratitude. Though gun violence—and the fear and suspicion it breeds—is a threat these children face every day, within the locked doors of that room, joy, community and expression overflowed. Situations like this one remind me that the arts are a life-giving necessity. Children’s creative expression remains greater than the forces of hate and division.

I often say Luna was launched on a whim—my colleagues at CitiCentre Dance and I were losing our work space and a beautiful studio on Park Boulevard, in Oakland, California became available. Although that first act of pulling out my credit card to lay down a deposit on the space might be viewed as impulsive; ever since, from the purposeful decision to hold Luna’s first Open House on International Women’s Day, March 8, 1992, to our current efforts to develop our Luna’s next generation of leaders, each and every choice made has been intentional.

My journey as Luna’s founder has been long and winding; yet, certain themes, concepts, and values have endured. In the early days, volunteers including Jane and Richard Rosario, Amy Hutto, Tricia Freitas, Freesia Huth, and Lori Lara burned the midnight oil pulling out built-in benches, laying marley flooring, and installing safety devices. Twenty-five years later, our nine-person staff and numerous volunteers exert the same effort to pull together annual events such as 20 Points of View, CHOREOFUND, and Dance-a-rama. It takes a community to run Luna has been a constant. The CitiCentre dance teachers that found a new home at Luna, including Malonga Casquelourd, Roger Dillahunty, Leslie Carter, Danny Giray, and Hafeesah Dalji, have moved on; yet, they remain connected–last summer, Malonga’s daughter, Muisi-kongo, participated in our Summer Institute. The importance of relationships is another sustaining value.

When the African dance teachers relocated to the Alice Arts Center, now Malonga Casquelourd center, I had a chance to articulate a vision for Luna’s children’s program that emphasized nurturing the choreographer in every child. I saw this, at the time, from a feminist perspective. My own dance training was about trying to learn routines created by my teachers and perform them as perfectly as possible. I was a good follower and so did fairly well—but what about leadership? Typically, people became choreographers after they’d dutifully danced for others—what would happen if the choreography came first? What if every child learned to choreograph a dance like they learned to write an essay? Not everyone would be the next Alvin Ailey or Martha Graham, but not every child ends up the next Walt Whitman or Alice Walker either. So, I set out with these questions guiding Luna’s program design. Over the years, with a team of gifted, committed dance teachers (Laurie Foster, Erin Lally, Lori O. Lara, Bonner Odell, Freesia Paclebar-Huth, Alisa Rasera, Julie Regalado, Veleda Roehl, Chantal Sampogna, Sarah Sass, and many more) we crafted a pedagogy that keeps creativity front and center in our studio program, as well as in schools, community centers, residential treatment facilities, and Head Start centers.

Today, our team: Amelia Uzategui Bonilla, Cherie Hill, Deborah Karp, Nancy Ng, Jochelle Pereña, Carmen Roman, Heather Stockton, Nia Womack-Freeman, and myself are pooling our talents to take Luna into the next quarter century. What role can dance play to create positive change in the lives of children and those who care for them? How can we more boldly participate in conversations of race, equity, and justice in our roles as artists and educators? How can we wield the generosity of our board, our advisory council, and our funders to lead with integrity and develop Luna’s next generation of trailblazers?