There's something powerful that happens when students step onto a stage and the entire community shows up for them. Events like this bring families, staff, and students together in a way that builds pride, connection, and a real sense of belonging.
Clothing that bears the name of a city near or far has become a closet staple for many consumers in recent years, evolving from impulse purchases to mainstream fashion.
When I came to America I tried a lot of classes and 90% of them, even if a class was for beginner level, were really difficult. I was thinking, if I were a grown woman who just decided to start, I'm going to get trauma, it's so hard, it's so competitive, and I [said], I need to create something dedicated to women, without this pressure, without this judgmental vibe.
But instead, they find their way to a small studio, where they join 27 others in strapping on a pair of high heels and throwing themselves into two hours of dance moves. This is the beginners heels class at Vibe Dance Studio, which was started by Izzy Gonzales and her dad Ed four years ago. It's a place where people can show up exhausted, but end up with so much energy they don't want to go home.
On last night's Saturday Night Live, we learned that time stops for nothing-not people and not language. Marcello Hernández, the cast member perhaps most likely to become SNL's next breakout star, dropped by the "Weekend Update" desk to inform the Millennial co-anchor Colin Jost-and, by proxy, many Millennial audience members-of the slang terms favored by Gen Z.
This is an absolute beginners course on the foundations of classical ballet and, a single catastrophic line dance lesson aside, it is also the first dance class I have ever attended. I am in the minority. As we take the barre, it quickly becomes apparent that not being able to tell my left from my right will be a significant deficit over the next 16 weeks. This, however, is a tertiary concern.
Every micro-trend is swiftly dubbed ("Italian summer nails" or some such), and the most elaborate looks are often confined to the wearer's own home - all dolled up and nowhere to go. But before some of today's beauty influencers were born (the late '80s and '90s, let's say), full beats were meant to be flaunted in public. In those years, no group burned brighter than the club kids, whose visual rebellion through makeup signaled a sense of freedom against the somber backdrop of the AIDS epidemic.
Detroit techno, austere and futuristic, grew out of Black/queer culture, sci-fi escapism, and the repetitive language of automobile factories. San Francisco's techno, on the other hand, fused an outdoor hippie aesthetic with ecstatic, UK-derived beats that had crowds mass-hallucinating UFOs on Ocean Beach at dawn. Both shared a deep funkiness, however—remember when people of all shapes and colors once danced wildly?
It's Sunday evening and dozens of people are ping-ponging around the room at Berkeley's Ashkenaz Music & Dance Community Center. It's the end of a three-day traveling music festival called " Dare to Be Square West," and folks are whirling, stomping and otherwise having a ball. A man who's perched like a shepherd eyeing his flock calls out instructions from the stage. "Take your partner and promenade!" he hollers, as people form lines, part and reintegrate.
Don't say you were not warned: stories, both in print and broadcast, are already being prepared about the 50th anniversary of punk rock. Indeed, 1976 saw the release of debut albums by the Sex Pistols, the Ramones, the Damned, and the first version of Blank Generation, Richard Hell's anthem. Of course, there are also nitpicky arguments for rejecting 1976 as the annus mirabilis.