EDITOR’S NOTEExploring how people are building connections in today’s world, Mellow DeTray’s column “In Search of Community” delves into the diverse ways individuals are finding a sense of belonging – not only in churches and religious gatherings, but also through secular groups. This monthly series aims to resonate with readers across South King County, offering a thoughtful look at the evolving nature of community in our modern lives.

In an age saturated with fleeting digital interactions, the craving for genuine human connection has grown stronger. This community project delves into the diverse landscapes where people are forging these vital bonds. This month, my search led me to Dance Church in South Park, an unexpected contender in the quest for community.

After having several people enthusiastically suggest I include Dance Church in my research, I finally gave it a try this month. Dance Church is different from the other churches and community events I’ve covered for this project, in that there is a cost to participate. That said, I figured it was worth looking into what this community has to offer. To keep cost from being an issue, they do offer a reduced rate for low-income dancers. They also have a work/trade option for people who want to give their time in exchange for a free membership.

From looking at online photos of Dance Church, I was expecting something like Zumba. I’ve tried Zumba at a few locations, and it has not really been my thing. I love dancing, but both the music and the movements at Zumba classes have felt unnatural and uncomfortable to me. I can see that many people really like them, and in fact others seem to find a great deal of community through their Zumba groups. Moving in synchrony with a group has been shown to increase feelings of social cohesion, bonding, and wellbeing – see link for some of the research on that. Since I could not create that experience for myself at Zumba, I hoped I might find it at Dance Church.

Dance Church started in Seattle and has become a national sensation, with weekly dance churches in 15 cities nationwide, plus occasional pop-ups internationally. The Seattle area alone has a handful of different locations for dancers to come together, including Ballard, Queen Anne, Capitol Hill, West Seattle, and the South Park location that I attended. Dance Church has no religious affiliation, but aims to be a space for creating community through movement.

The Dance Church I went to on Sunday morning was in a Dance Conservatory building, along a lightly industrial block of Cloverdale, just off the SR 509 freeway. I was greeted warmly at the door by someone very welcoming and friendly. She explained that we were to take our shoes off before embarking on the dance floor, and that there was no talking once inside the classroom.  

Inside, we left our shoes in the wooden cubbies of a greenroom, and then entered the darkened dance space. The large mirrors typical of a dance studio had been covered by fabric, and the south facing windows were darkened with blackout blinds. This left the room quite dark on this sunny spring morning. 

The teacher introduced themself and was very friendly, explaining to me how the class would go. The teacher would mostly be leading the class from the center of the room, so there was no real “front” of the dance floor. They shared that the music was meant to take people on a journey, and would span several genres. Once it got going, I found that the main genre honestly seemed to be unrecognizable dance music, though they did play an early Madonna hit and some honky tonk. I was prepared with earplugs in case things got loud, and I’m glad I brought them because the volume seemed to increase with each song.

Throughout Dance Church, the teacher would call out different moves, and we could choose to follow along or do our own thing. I did my best to stick with the class, in order to maximise that synchronised-movement effect. This was made easier by the fact that many of the moves we did were how I dance anyway, so it felt pretty natural. Towards the end of class there was a kind of huddle dance, where we circled up and put our arms around each other. This was the only time physical interaction with others was involved. Many dancers chose to do their own thing during this and other portions of the class, and there was no stigma either way. 

The room remained dark before, during, and after class, so it was hard to tell the ages of the other dancers. However, I estimated that there were between 25 and 30 people altogether, and that I, at age 46, was one of the oldest there. Probably most were in their 20s and 30s. I felt no discomfort for either being new to Dance Church, or for being possibly the oldest person on the dancefloor. There were a handful of men, though it did seem to be mostly women.

It was fun to dance. I would do it again. I definitely broke a sweat. I wouldn’t say the experience was transformative, and I did not feel any particular connection to anyone besides the very friendly greeter and teacher, who were both warm and likeable. The darkness on the dancefloor had the usual effect of making everyone more comfortable moving their bodies. However, between the loud music, the darkness, and the no-talking rule, there was little opportunity for interpersonal connection. 

If it was free I’d probably be there most weeks, because I do love dancing, but paying $22 each week just doesn’t sit well with me. I think the cost makes the whole experience feel more transactional, rather than personal. Perhaps I feel that we shouldn’t have to buy community. However, it was definitely nice to have a place to dance before my 10 p.m. bedtime–when the music usually gets going at dance clubs.

Ultimately, while Dance Church offered an invigorating and joyful hour-plus of movement, it didn’t quite seem to be building community. The friendly welcome from the greeter and teacher provided a flicker of connection, but the darkened room and the inherent transience of the class meant that deeper bonds remained elusive. Perhaps buying a ticket also subtly shifted the dynamic, framing it more as a paid service than a joyful collective. 

However, this doesn’t negate the benefits Dance Church does successfully cultivate: a haven for uninhibited physical expression, a judgment-free zone where individuals can share a powerful, rhythmic experience. It offers a collective effervescence, a temporary tribe united by beat and movement, which, for many, might be precisely the community they seek.

The search continues, but Dance Church has illuminated another fascinating facet of how and where people connect in the modern world.

Mellow DeTray is a Seattle native who has spent the last 16 years raising her family in Burien. She has volunteered at many local establishments over the years, including the Burien Library, Burien Actors Theatre, and Hot Feet Fitness. After working for 10 years at Burien Community Center, she moved on to teaching fitness classes and to work the front desk of a Burien yoga studio. For many years Mellow kept a moderately popular cooking & lifestyle blog, and she had a brief stint in political journalism during a local election. Clear and informative writing has always been a side hobby of Mellow’s and she looks forward to bringing you unbiased coverage of City Council meetings.