My Momma's Jam

If you grew up in the tri-state area (a commuter-length in any direction from New York City) in the '70s, you may have seen a Sunday morning show called Wonderama. It was a kind of kid variety hour with a singing host, named Bob McCallister. There were Beat-the-Clock-type stunts, sing-along sections ("Have you heard any good news today, today? I wanna hear what you have to say!" and "Kids are people too" were big time personal favorites), and a quiz show finale -- all with a live kid audience. It rocked. But, by far, the high point each week was the Dance Competition. Kids had the chance to have an open go-go time and then three kids were given the chance to go solo and compete to be the winner, decided by who got the most applause.

Now, even at seven years old I could tell which kids watched American Bandstand and which ones watched Soul Train. This was, of course, many years before MTV and so these two shows were where you had the chance to catch popular bands, as well as the latest dance moves. Dick Clark (pre-mummy stage, but already too old to be on the pulse of America's youth) hosted American Bandstand and it featured a theme sung by Barry Manilow. Soul Train was hosted by the exceptionally cool Don Cornelius and featured a James Brown-style howl of the show's title as it's intro ("It's time for Sooooooooooooooooooooooullll Train"). Kids usually were devoted to one or the other, but I loved them both. And so I was able to observe that week after week the kids who knew the Soul Train moves won the Dance Competition on Wonderama. This observation led me to hold this style of dancing in the highest regard. The Robot, the shimmy, the grind, I would seek to master them all.

Many years later, I worked in childcare and had the chance to observe that toddlers are thrilled by the invitation to dance. This inspired our own dance parties, which started whenever the spirit moved us. Most babies would jump or bob or clap, but I had one toddler named Dalia who, even at 2, had Soul Train moves. One day, Dalia jumped to her feet when a song came on the radio, exclaiming, "That my Momma's jam!" and proceeded to launch into her most impressive moves yet. "My Momma go like that!" she demonstrated, "And like that!" It was an inspiration, and the rest of the babies and adults joined in.

This leads me to my present day thought, which is this: when do children stop being thrilled by adults dancing and become embarrassed by it? I distinctly remember one of my sons being fine with my spontaneous supermarket dancing when he was 6. He would even put his hand out and insist on being twirled. But somewhere around 8 that all changed. We listen to a wide range of music in my household and I reserve the right to dance along to it, whether it be the Clash or Charlie Parker. If my son walks into a room in which this is taking place though, he will immediately turn around and leave. If I ask him to dance with me, he will give me the unmistakable look of someone who wishes to do nothing but become invisible.

This is of course the way things are supposed to go, right? We think our parents are the center of the universe and then they slowly become more and more embarrassing until they hit a point that is excruciating (I believe the peek for me came at 16). It is only then that they can begin the slow climb back to what may be "okay". And so, I understand it-- but it also makes me a little sad. Momma's gotta have her jam too, after all.