Doris Tunney in the Daigre Dance Studio photo by M. Sillman |
Doris Tunney doesn’t even pretend to be offended when you ask how old she is.
“I’m 86,” she says proudly. “I’ll be 87 on March 26th.”
Tunney is petite, with cinnamon brown skin, short, curly
white hair and perfect posture. Dressed in denim capris and a long sleeved
cotton shirt, this octogenarian is ready to roll.
On a rainy Saturday morning, Tunney is one of a half
dozen women gathered at a community center in Seattle’s Central Area to
work with veteran dance teacher Edna Daigre. The youngest student is in her mid
50’s; Tunney takes the elder honors. She’s been studying with Daigre for
decades. She loved to dance when she was younger.
“It made me feel like I was floating,” she recalls. “It made
me feel so independent, made feel I could do anything I want to do.”
Keeping people like Doris Tunney in motion and independent
has become a mission for Edna Daigre. She and her son, Chris (also a Seattle
dance teacher) have developed a program that combines Pilates-style breathing, isolated
muscle movements, and other dance techniques that Daigre has taught over her
long career.
Dancer and Teacher Edna Daigre photo by M. Sillman |
Edna Daigre is in her 70’s now; she’s been dancing nearly as
long as she’s been alive. She started at a community center in Gary, Indiana at
the age of 3. Dance allowed her to express herself in a way that words didn’t. Daigre
remembers dancing out nursery rhymes, which helped her to learn the stories.
“I would have a speech problem when I tried to communicate,”
she explains.
She continued to study dance as a teen: calypso, Latin, and
the contemporary technique of Katherine Dunham, which is rooted in African
tradition but incorporates elements of ballet and mid-20th century modern dance.
Daigre adored it, but her parents discouraged her from pursuing a dance career.
She went into health care instead.
In the early 1970’s, Edna Daigre moved to Seattle with her
former husband, who was in the military, and their two sons. When the marriage
broke up, Daigre and the kids stayed in Seattle.
“To me, Seattle was like the last frontier,” she laughs.
Culturally, nothing was the same as what she’d left behind
in the Midwest. Different music, theater and dance styles.
Instead of bemoaning what wasn’t available, Daigre set out
to recreate it in her new community.
She went to talk with the artistic leaders of Black Arts
West, and the Central Area Motivational Program. With their backing, Daigre
began to teach what she knew to teens. When budget cuts forced CAMP to end her
classes, Daigre opened Ewajo Dance Studio. That was 1975.
“I named it Ewajo because it means ‘come and dance’,” she
says.
The teenagers came; so did older people. “We started doing performances
in different places like the library and Marymoor Park.”
Some of Daigre’s students went on to pursue professional
dance careers. Most, like Doris Tunney, simply enjoyed moving. Daigre says the
community flocked to her studio. But in 2007, Daigre closed Ewajo. She was 65,
and she had grown a bit weary of the constant struggle to keep things afloat
financially.
Most people retire at 65, but not Daigre.
She wanted to meld her dance and health-care backgrounds.
“I always had that
health-body foundation. I know I wanted to keep dancing ‘til I was 80, 90, as
long as I lived.”
Daigre knew that, as she aged, she had to modify the way she
moved, and the way she taught older people to move. She was inspired by her own
experiences.
“I had an accident that sort of immobilized me. I came back
through a very simple technique of all this information that I had gathered for
many years.”
Daigre wants older people to believe they can dance. “Dance has a bad stereotype.
It’s for the young, it’s for when I get a little tipsy and a little loose.”
Back at the community center, none of Daigre’s Saturday
morning students are young or tipsy, but midway through the class, they are all
a little loose.
Edna Daigre, center, and Doris Tunney at Daigre Studio photo by M. Sillman |
Infectious R&B music flows out of a simple boom box; the
women twitch their hips and roll their shoulders to it, arcing in a circle
around Edna Daigre.
Suddenly Doris Tunney busts out a move, and Daigre smiles
and claps her hands, urging her other students to copy Tunney.
The older woman just keeps on shakin’ her groove thing. Edna
Daigre inspires her.
“Like this morning, I hated to get up,” she says, looking
out at the gray skies. “But (I told myself) I’m going to see Edna, and Edna makes me feel good!”
Edna Daigre herself is still a bundle of energy, barely
breaking a sweat as she puts her students through their paces. Teaching clearly gives
her joy; but dance is her central passion. She says it makes her feel free.
“I love being who I am at this point in my life,” Daigre
smiles. “I can do just about anything.”
Watching her navigate her circle of dancers, you don’t doubt
that for a second.
Wonderful post, Marcie! I've been to Edna's class (11 AM at the MLK center on Saturdays) and joyful is just the right word. And she gives you a good workout!
ReplyDelete