Abstract
Perceptions of “belly dance” are that it is degrading, exploitive, and incongruous to feminism. Curiously, however, the dance is incredibly popular in various parts of the world, including the United States, as a form of recreation and creative expression. This article examines the apparent disconnect between public perception and practitioner standpoint. Findings indicate a strong holistic healing component, particularly in terms of gendered interpersonal victimization, where belly dance seems to hold potential for self-exploration and discovery. Grounded historically, culturally, and empirically, these findings are discussed in terms of their application to social work practice, as it relates to alternative therapies.
Keywords
Belly dance (also commonly known as Middle Eastern dance, Arabic dance, or oriental dance) 1 carries a negative connotation as something degrading, exploitive, and antifeminist. Such negative perceptions arise from a variety of sources related to colonial expansion, tourism, media, entertainment, and globalization. They have developed over the last several hundred years and cumulatively represent gendered commodification and objectification of female performers in the Middle East, North Africa, and greater Mediterranean region. For example, women portrayed in Orientalist writings and paintings were often depicted as voluptuous, seminude, and sexually inviting objects within harem or public settings, such as slave markets. Such images appeared throughout the global West’s Victorian era, providing provocative and controversial renderings about a foreign Other (Carlton, 1994; MacMaster & Lewis, 1998).
Greater credence was given to these misconceptions through various public spectacles in the late 1800s and early 1900s. For example, the Algerian, Moroccan, and Egyptian “dancing girls” who were brought to the 1893 World Columbian Exposition (Chicago World’s Fair) became notorious for their “hootchy kootchy” dance (Carlton, 1994). Oscar Wilde’s orientalist spin on the meaning of the dance was less than positive in the 1894 tragedy,
Contemporary interdisciplinary research indicates that belly dance is much more than these common perceptions suggest. Practitioners view the dance as a creative means of expression regardless of background, experience, skill level, or health status. The dance seems to allow space for women to use their bodies in self-defined ways that facilitate creative exploration. Based on 10 years of fieldwork which culminated in 67 semistructured interviews with American belly dancers, I assert that belly dance may serve as mode of movement-based therapy with relevance to feminist social work practice. In particular, I examine the facilitative function belly dance may hold for the holistic healing (interconnectedness of body, mind, and spirit) related to gendered victimization (interpersonal harm that disproportionately occurs to and/or targets women).
Conceptual Framework
Belly dance represents a modern, and largely Westernized, adaptation of various dances that originated throughout North Africa, the Middle East, and Mediterranean region over the last several thousand years (Shay & Sellers-Young, 2005). It is considered a derivative of the oldest documented dances, with archeological evidence dating to 3400 BCE (from ancient Egypt and the eastern edge of the Mediterranean Sea) suggesting it was an important part of ritual, celebration, and community activities within ancient societies (Baring & Cashford, 1993; Stewart, 2000). Specifically, dance in this region has been used in rituals for spirits and various gods or goddesses, as a means of ensuring a strong harvest, and warding off disease. It has also been used within holiday celebrations, courtship practices, marriage ceremonies, and funeral rites, and may have been used as a form of sex education, pregnancy preparation, and birthing support for young women (Dinicu, 2000; Mourat, 2000; Stewart, 2000).
Given its eclectic lineage, belly dance remains largely uncodified in terms of set movements and structure. In its contemporary use, belly dance is a highly individualized, expressive, and often improvised form of movement. Its technique and stylization is in constant evolution, which makes it ideal for personalization (Shay & Sellers-Young, 2005). It has become popular among non-Middle Eastern women in recent years, particularly in the United States. However, research has just begun to examine its holistic benefits. Within the guise that most women practice it (leisure, exercise, and recreation; Moe, 2012), belly dance has been correlated with greater confidence, body acceptance, self-esteem, and happiness (Paul, 2006). It has also been associated with reducing stress and encouraging physical fitness, personal growth, and spirituality (Bock & Borland, 2011; Downey, Reel, SooHoo, & Zerbib, 2010; Kraus, 2010; Moe, 2011; Paul, 2006). Moreover, belly dance is often seen as an outlet for social support and community building (Moe, 2012, in press; Paul, 2006). Underscoring the relevance of individualized creativity and stylization, these benefits have been associated directly to the level of freedom and autonomy allowed through belly dancing (Bock & Borland, 2011). However, direct substantive connections between belly dance and holistic healing are lacking.
Holistic health refers to a distinct paradigm for how and why people become ill (illness is conceptualized broadly to include all forms of physical, emotional, and mental debilitations) and what is necessary for healing. This paradigm is premised on a complete notion of being, such that disease is envisioned as encompassing the whole self, rather a particular body part (e.g., depression may be “felt” in achy joints or an upset stomach, as opposed to exclusively in one’s head). Similarly, physical manifestations of illness or injury are considered to have a connection to a person’s social relationships, emotional health, and spiritual identity. Thus, addressing anything that is disruptive, upsetting, or debilitating to a person requires a full range of analysis of the body, mind, and spirit, as opposed to narrow treatment of the most obvious symptom (Robison & Carrier, 2004).
Since holistic health is premised on the interconnections of body, mind, and spirit, activities that simultaneously affect all three of these elements are deemed facilitative of healing (Halprin, 2000). As established within holistic movement modalities, physical activities that rely on self-experimentation, discovery, and personal liberation are central to long-term wellness (Halprin, 2000; Payne, 2006). Dance is well established as a holistic healing modality because of its ability to fuse body, mind, and spirit activity. In particular, forms of dance that are both individually and improvisationally based are most ideal because they provide for freedom of expression and creativity without regulation or judgment (Levy, 1988). Various movement modalities (e.g., authentic movement, creative movement, and interplay) have been used within therapeutic and social work settings in order to enhance individual coping mechanisms and healing. These include mental illness (Karkou, 2006; Levy, 1988; MacDonald, 2006), addiction (Murray-Lane, 1995), physical disability (Levy, 1988), disease (Bunce, 2006), pregnancy (Celebi, 2006), elder mobility and dementia (Levy, 1988; Sandel & Hollander, 1995), and sexual and physical abuse (Bernstein, 1995; Chang & Leventhal, 1995).
Methodology
This study was premised on feminist standpoint theory (Harding, 1987), which necessitates epistemic privilege, or the honoring of the marginalized voices (of research participants) over other dominant-hegemonic discourses. In this setting, such a perspective was critical since public conceptions about belly dance are not always positive. Focusing on the emic (personal experience) as opposed to the etic (external social observation), standpoint theory allowed a framework for gathering and analyzing data inductively, with methodological flexibility regarding the views, feelings, and experiences of the participants.
Data were gathered via qualitative, semistructured interviews in 2009 and 2010, which focused on contemporary American women’s experiences with belly dance. The interviews were conducted using snowball and convenience sampling, as I began by interviewing informants known to me through my own belly dance participation (I am a 40-year-old white woman, mother of two, who has belly danced both recreationally and semiprofessionally since 2003). As recognized within field research (Lofland, Snow, Anderson, & Lofland, 2006), using one’s insider status to recruit, build rapport and account for the broader contexts, as well as subtle nuances, of particular groups and subcultures can be advantageous. To that end, I advertised the project through various belly dance teachers, studio owners, and troupe leaders throughout the Midwestern United States (where I am located) and beyond. Recruitment was also aided by electronic postings over belly dance Listservs, Facebook pages, and websites.
I conducted 67 interviews, 18 of which occurred face-to-face and 49 by phone, depending upon the preferences and location of participants. The interviews lasted an average of 49 minutes. No direct compensation was offered to the women; however, I used my university’s long-distance phone plan to limit expenses related to the phone interviews, and either brought or paid for refreshments (with subsequent reimbursement from my university) at each of the face-to-face interviews. I followed each interview with a written thank you and remained in touch with all who expressed interest in seeing the results of my work. All research procedures were approved by my university’s human subject institutional review board.
As these were semistructured interviews, the exact wording and sequencing of questions varied between interviews. Most assumed a conversational tone, with both the interviewee and myself sharing experiences and discussing various topics. That said, the general questions asked (or otherwise addressed) during the interviews included:
What words, phrases, or images come to mind when you hear the words “belly dance”?
How, when, and why did you become involved with belly dance?
How does belly dancing make you feel? Think? Act?
Do you feel as if you’ve benefited from belly dancing? How? When did you begin to notice these benefits? Have they affected other aspects of your life?
Specifically, have you noticed changes: (a) physically; (b) mentally; (c) emotionally; (d) spiritually? Do you see these as connected in any way?
Have you noticed any changes in other women? Do you think your experience is common to others?
Is belly dance different in this way (facilitating change) than other dance forms?
Do you associate belly dance with healing? Has it helped you deal with anything that has happened in your life? Describe this healing?
What does “holistic health” or “holism” mean to you? Is belly dancing holistic?
What are two of the largest misconceptions about belly dance? How has your experience countered them?
What would you like the public to know about belly dance?
The interviews were transcribed verbatim with the assistance of four graduate students (with identifiers removed or replaced with pseudonyms). Analysis involved open coding, followed by conceptual mapping/data condensing as a way of developing larger thematic categories. I relied on phenomenological notions of embodied meaning, the analytical focus being on the “what” and “how” (Moustakas, 1994)—what did the women experience in belly dance and how did they describe experiencing it? Women come to and experience belly dance for a variety of reasons, many of which relate to enjoyment, building social ties, and exercise. However, there are additional benefits that are not always obvious, expected, or discussed publicly. Healing from interpersonal harm emerged as one of these. This interpersonal harm was quite specific; women did not discuss belly dancing as a way of recovering from an auto theft, for example. Rather, a significant portion of the sample (30%, 20 of 67) disclosed victimization and specifically commented on how belly dance helped them cope, heal, and/or overcome instances of interpersonal harm that disproportionately occur to women and girls. These 20 transcripts were separated from the others (who did not discuss gendered victimization) and coded again for the findings presented here. (To be clear, none of the participants were enduring such victimization at the time of their interviews; had they been so, appropriate measures would have been taken to ensure safety, resource referral, and reporting to appropriate entities per applicable state law.)
These 20 women ranged in dance experience from 8 months to 35 years (average of 11.5 years). Of which, 9 (45%) considered themselves hobbyists and 11 (55%) were semiprofessionals or professionals (received payment for performing or teaching). Their ages ranged from 22 to 68 (average of 44). Most identified as white (14, 70%); however, two (10%) identified as Asian, two (10%) as Latina, one (6%) as black, and one (6%) as Native American. Four (20%) claimed Middle Eastern or Mediterranean heritage. Ten (50%) were partnered or married and 10 (50%) were single (including divorced). All but one (95%) identified as heterosexual. They were fairly accomplished in terms of education and vocation: 13 (65%) had gone to community college or university and were employed within retail, education, health care, administrative, manufacturing, and automotive industries. Seven (35%) had graduate degrees with careers in health care, business, education, and the law. These demographics roughly mirror the larger sample as well as the general belly dance community in the United States, given previous research (Kraus, 2010; MacMaster & Lewis, 1998; Moe, 2012, in press).
In terms of victimization, the most common was intimate partner violence (IPV). Among the 20 interviews, 13 (65% of subsample; 19% of full sample) reported IPV at some point in their lives. Six (30% of subsample; 9% of full sample) acknowledged sexual assault. Nine women (45% of subsample; 13% of full sample) experienced some form of child maltreatment. Finally, four reported having been bullied as youth (20% of subsample; 6% of full sample). Twelve (60% of subsample; 18% of full sample) experienced more than one of these forms of victimization. The interview excerpts provided below reflect the depth and breadth of this subsample. All identifiers have been removed or edited, and most pseudonyms were selected by the participants themselves.
Findings
Abusive Relationships
IPV is well documented as gendered in nature (Black et al., 2011). Within feminist conceptualizations, it is seen as an overt form of power and control carried out through various tactics (e.g., physical assault, emotional degradation, social isolation, and financial control; Ferraro, 2006). The women who spoke of IPV during the interviews illustrated such a conceptualization. As an illustration, Casmir described the control tactics of her husband, which were aimed at objectifying and belittling her:
He made me feel like I was a piece of jewelry in a little velvet box and I was only to be brought out and put on display when I was on his arm. It was kind of hard to argue with someone who’s a second degree black belt in Karate. Plus he was 6’4” to boot. He did his best to make me feel stupid, to put me down and keep me down. I dated a couple verbally abusive guys, and dance has helped me with self-esteem. Physical abuse, when you have that you have the physical things, and you can look at it and go “Well, that’s not right.” But verbal abuse, it’s really hard to notice, cause you’re like “Well, did I deserve that?” Dance made me realize I am good enough. I think the biggest part of that was the support. There have been a lot of times, where with dance, if I didn’t feel like I was up to par or that I was doing what I should be doing that voice would come back in that “You’re not good enough. You’re fat, you’re ugly, you don’t fit in here.” And it was more the support group that would say, “Don’t listen to those voices. You’re beautiful.” Verbal abuse really does a number on your self-esteem. [Fiona] Life has not been very easy in the last few years. It’s hard to explain how it [belly dance] makes me feel—a sense of release almost. Freedom. I was born and raised in England and came over here in the mid-80s, just after I got married. The only reason I came was because my ex-husband got a job here. We had three small children and after we got here he told me that he wanted out. I wasn’t working. I didn’t have any job skills. The divorce became really ugly and there was a huge custody battle. I didn’t feel myself anymore. When you’re battered about and you need confidence to build you back up, it makes you feel good about yourself. My whole life revolved around him and his family and his life goals. I became disconnected from my interests. When I was going through my divorce, which was around 2005–2006, I started taking classes. It was a way to escape what was going on in my life and also celebrate who I was. A chance to feel confident and reconnect with my interests. [Alisha]
Further, belly dance, because it accommodates a variety of body types and skill levels, is seen as unique. As Alisha noted:
With ballet I found that there was such a focus on perfection and being judged by others … that’s similar with jazz too. Middle Eastern dance seemed to be something that anyone could do at any time. Anybody could just jump in and start and there’s a lot of acceptance. I had a counselor when I was going through my divorce who strongly encouraged me as soon as I said something. She noted that dance helps us connect spiritually and I think I still have a long way to go in understanding that, but I think it’s somehow the human experience that I get out of dance that that helps with that and helping with feeling connected with myself and others. I can honestly say that when I made the decision to return to belly dance after having had all the different things happen to me, I was very, very happy. I felt this great sense of relief, that I was gonna get to go back to something I loved. I had no idea how much I had missed it. There really was this, “I’m home.” Part of what appeals to me is that there’s a culture behind it. You’re not just learning “Ok, move this hip here and move your legs this way”… There’s so much behind it that that it just spoke to me. Almost anything that needs to be worked out elsewhere can be worked out in a microcosm of a dance. I don’t know how to explain it, but the emotion, the backed up emotion, just becomes fuel for the performance. It gives you safety to be in that zone without risking things which are more important. I’ve had a couple come through pretty abusive situations and this has sort of been their lifeline. It’s where they can make themselves feel comfortable, where they can reassure themselves that they can make good choices and find some social support and not necessarily have to talk about the circumstance itself. They’re in the company of other people who are supportive.
Sexual Assault
Sexual assault is also a disproportionately gendered experience, with women largely being the victims and men largely being the perpetrators (Black et al., 2011). While stranger-initiated rapes are the least common context for sexual assault (whether an intimate partner or not, women are more likely to know their assailants in some way), Jherico described such an instance: “A man broke into my house with a knife and he held to my throat and he wanted oral sex. I screamed and he broke out and ran away. They did catch him. He had murdered another woman the year previous with that same knife.” Jherico experienced a number of abusive circumstances in her life. She had much to say about the benefits of belly dancing:
I think a number of women have come to belly dance as a result of having their bodies objectified in that way. I think through the passage of time they overcome that because of the deeper aspect of belly dancing … celebrating your breasts as beautiful parts of a woman’s body, celebrating the hour-glass figure, or the balloon shaped figure or whatever figure it is, however old it is. Just enjoying it. I was raped by a really close friend of mine. He was the closest thing I had to a father and a big brother at that time. He was the man of my life. I had just turned fifteen. His reasoning behind it was that he was trying to save me [from acting tom-boyish]. I went through a time where I shut down completely. I wouldn’t look in the mirror. I wasn’t happy with myself physically, or emotionally, or anything. [Emma] My aunt told me that I needed to dance. If I wouldn’t write, if I wouldn’t talk, if I wouldn’t paint, if I wouldn’t think, she told me that I needed to dance because I had to re-learn myself physically. It helped me get back to knowing who I am as an individual, as a woman, as a physical entity. That was one of the biggest steps in belly dancing, having to actually look at myself because it made me see that I was still alive. I really just went into class one day, and it just came on for me. I felt beautiful and whole and worthwhile. It’s the most expressive for me, the most accepting. Belly dancing is very size positive. It’s very empowering, and it allows you to be creative. With belly dancing, the majority of it comes from existing. Everyone can exist in that moment and express themselves to this music without fear.
Professional belly dancers commented on their experiences with students’ healing as well, which corroborated their personal experiences regarding the effects of sexual victimization as well as the dance’s healing benefits: “I’m a counselor, and especially for the clients that I work with, belly dance offers a way to get in touch with their body in a non-threatening manner. I think it’s distinct in that it’s a movement that a women’s body is meant to do.” [Reba]
Child Maltreatment
Child abuse and neglect is an epidemic social problem that affects boys and girls in much more proportionate fashion as compared to IPV and sexual assault (Crossen-Tower, 2010). However, gendered qualities emerged within the narratives that referenced child maltreatment. Take, for example, Emma’s description of being dismissed by her mother because of her resemblance to her father who had abandoned the family. Recall from the previous section that she had been sexually assaulted by the male who had become a stand-in father/brother figure after her parents’ divorce:
It was really hard for me growing up because my mother and my father were divorced and I looked just like him. She resented me because whenever she looked at me she saw him. It really messed with me. My father, after the divorce, wasn’t around. I resented him. It seemed like he was trying to deny me. I always had this self-loathing. I came to exist because my parents, my dad, expected to have a son to carry on the family name. Once I was born, my mom refused to have any other kids. She really didn’t want kids. All I ever learned from them was that family was a burden. I was so incredibly solitary. A counselor diagnosed me with attachment disorder. My parents never hugged me when I was growing up. I’ve never really felt connected to anything. With dance that lack of connection is gone. It’s hard to describe. I just feel so good when I dance. It’s like being home in my body, being home in my soul. I was severely sexually abused as a child. When a survivor is assaulted they, we, disassociate, and that keeps your body rather numb. As a survivor grows up and matures, one finds it dirty or ugly, and also it incorporates the inability to know how the body moves in space. Belly dance kind of heals all of that. The movement, the gentle movement, in giving to your body, finding it, getting strength. The acceptance of your body as a beautiful thing that you can move around. It gets you in touch with being a woman, with what you were meant to be, how you were meant to move. It’s your true self. You’re being authentic. [Reba] I had an emotionally absent father, a too present mother … she was the person who was hurting me, and a brother who had no boundaries. He was fifteen when he tried the whole molestation thing. My mother is a multiple personality. I grew up in a household where nothing was the same minute to minute. By the time I was five I was pretty much raising my brothers and sisters. I was on my own at fifteen. It wasn’t much longer after I moved out that I found belly dance and that gave me this confidence. It gave me the ability to hold my head up. It gave me the ability to stand up for myself, to say “I deserve to do this. I want to do this.” It allowed me to push through, to take risks, to move forward in spite of all that emotion and fear. It gave me a sense of self. In terms of healing hurt, it gave me a family that I never had.
The risks that Aziza assumed by running away from her home as a teenager were echoed by others, sometimes in a much more dangerous way. The effects of childhood abuse can be complicated and cumulative (Watson & Halford, 2010). As Sophia disclosed:
I shot my father when I was 16 because he was molesting me. Coming from a very “fundy” [religious fundamentalism] background and very authoritarian family, the father had extreme power over everybody. Lots of people didn’t believe me and then he threatened my mother and I shot him. I went through a lot of trauma with that. Belly dancing was a big therapy for me. I was 19 or 20 when I took a class at a junior college. I remember as a young girl, I was sexually abused …. I also went through a period of time where I was dealing with some molestation of one of my daughters. She needed to talk about it, she needed to process, and we were in counseling. I can’t even describe the relief it was to go to dance class and just take a break from everything that I had no control over. To have something that you have control over, something beautiful, and something that you can anticipate with joy. [Jherico] I suffer from posttraumatic stress, bipolar and obsessive compulsive disorder, and I try to get by on as little medication as possible. I use my belly dance to compensate for that. The posttraumatic stress disorder, and I suspect the bipolar, has been there since childhood. We had a pretty dysfunctional household. It was not just physical but mental abuse too. We just thought that’s what families were. My sister sent me an e-mail about remembering my mother changing my diaper and I was doing the squirm and kick thing. My sister said mom just lost it and beat the living hell out of me. I was just a matter of months old. She would snap and fly into rages. It makes me feel all kinds of better. I can tell on the off days. My entire mood goes down. The day after I have class I’m bright, chipper, happy. Belly dancing is just as much a medication as the other medications I take. It makes that big of a difference.
Bullying
As with child maltreatment, bullying happens to all demographics of youth; however, the context in which it occurs to girls illustrates its gendered nature (Klein, 2012). The women in this study recalled instances in which they were teased, degraded, and assaulted by their peers specifically because of the way they looked (or were expected to look) as girls.
I had body issues in high school because I was very large chested. I always felt like I looked heavier. It affected posture and the way I dressed. I used to get teased by boys and that sort of thing. Then going to college, I struggled a lot too. I was really uncomfortable for a long time. I didn’t get into the college life. I think dance was a part of that cause then I had close friends in the area. I had something to go do every week. [Xena] I think it transcended into other parts. It’s always there. I’ve noticed holding myself differently, moving differently. It gets into your subconscious. I like the idea of working with your body and that you can be sensual and feminine and still strong and that there is a lot of room for self-expression. It’s a safe environment to express that and work through it, and find a source of confidence whether it be emotional or physical. I was made fun of all the way through middle school, high school, and early college. I went through several bouts of depression. I was also diagnosed with polycystic ovarian syndrome. Those hormone changes, weight gain, body hair … I had all of the symptoms with the exception of skin tags. I got made fun of for those things. I was being put on antidepressants like crazy because doctors kept diagnosing me with depression, then manic depression, then cyclothymia, then mild bipolar disorder. I’ve been on at least a dozen different antidepressants, mood stabilizers, antipsychotics. I grew up just being socially inept. I always had a hard time relating to people, carrying on conversations. I stayed away from people. My teenage years were a big mess. I was 20 years old when I started dancing. Dance was one of few places I could go where people didn’t treat me like a leper. This gave me something to help boost my self-esteem. It was something steady in my life, something I looked forward to. Just getting that exercise helps you to feel better. And the movements. I don’t have to take Advil every time I have a period and I used to have to take Darvocet or things like that. I love dancing. I’ve grown a backbone over the years, and to an extent I’ve gotten used to people making fun of me. It’s not just a hobby. It’s not just something I do. It’s a part of my life. Being a teenage girl is a nightmare, especially if you don’t have really good family support. Something like this where they can focus on themselves and realize their femininity and realize that everything is going to be okay, that it’s not so overwhelming. You don’t have to go along with the crowd. You can be your own person. It’s so personal. Everybody is different and it takes that into consideration. For a younger person, a young girl, especially for somebody who’s having problems, it’s perfect.
Discussion and Conclusions
This analysis is based upon a study that examined the extent to which belly dance may be a means of holistic healing. Findings were derived from a larger set of data involving 67 qualitative, semistructured interviews with belly dancers throughout the United States. The present analysis focused on the 20 interview transcripts that specifically addressed gendered victimization. This analysis suggests that, when analyzed from the standpoint of contemporary practitioners, belly dance may be beneficial to women in terms of empowerment and overall health. Such findings are helpful in expanding notions of empowerment-based self-directed coping, as applicable to feminist social work practice.
Healing is a nuanced and complicated concept that allows for a variety of definitions. I have relied upon a holistic definition of healing which honors integration of body, mind, and spirit (Robison & Carrier, 2004); activities that simultaneously affect all three are regarded as facilitative of healing (Halprin, 2000). Dance has long been deemed a holistic movement modality, especially styles that are premised on self-experimentation, improvisation, discovery, and empowerment (Halprin, 2000; Levy, 1988; Payne, 2006). The women in this study indicated many instances in which they found belly dance to facilitate healing, making links between the harm they had suffered and the consequential benefits of belly dance. Paramount among these was the physical reclamation, wherein they experienced positive appreciation for what their bodies could do. The women also described a sense of belonging and comfort within the social context of belly dancing. For many, such settings provided respite from the stresses of their lives. They found the individualized characteristic of belly dance to be helpful as well, allowing myriad uses of the dance without the burden of conforming to certain physical or skill expectations. While some were not able to articulate the exact feelings they had while belly dancing, their overall sense of it was one that encompassed joy, release, comfort, and empowerment. All of these sentiments are indicative of its holistic capacity.
In focusing on victimization, I addressed all of the forms of interpersonal harm within the larger data set. Tellingly, all of these were targeted at the women
The juxtaposition between the erotic nature of belly dance and women’s embodied healing experiences is an interesting one to consider through the present analysis. Indeed, it is this juxtaposition that may help explain why belly dance, over other forms of dance, recreation, or exercise, benefits women. While belly dancing is often conceptualized as (inappropriately) erotic and seductive, according to the women here, it is much more complicated. Moreover, just because the dance is so often seen in this way, it need not be deemed antifeminist, and subsequently useless, on such grounds. When did exploring and expressing one’s sensuality become problematic? Who or what entities defined it as such, and to what ends? The women spoke of what they saw as feminine aspects of the dance, whether this was interpreted through physical movements, history, and culture, or its individualized nature. So while the dance could be experienced in a more stereotypical way, its practitioners remained in control of how and when they did so.
This may be particularly helpful for women who have experienced a physical, mental, and spiritual disconnect from their bodies as a result of gendered victimization. Belly dancing, when done in a safe setting, allows women to explore, examine, and challenge the socially constructed boundaries between appropriate and seemingly inappropriate/oversexualized expression. In doing so, they may find that their bodies, minds, and spirits need not be bound by prior victimization. Among the therapeutic value belly dance may offer, such women may come to recognize that what has happened in the past does not define who they are today and what they are capable of in the future. Moreover, given the eclectic and autonomous nature of belly dance, women may opt to experience it in a completely different way, putting their own meanings on the activity and subverting more common interpretations. The narratives here show the capacity of women to refuse stereotypical views of the dance and instead see it as something uniquely related to self-exploration and discovery.
Future scholarship would be well served to consider the standpoints of women who define and cultivate their own paths toward holistic healing. The findings of this study are meant at defining a clearer framework for doing so and to inform current social work practice that is feminist driven and women centered. In this research, it was used during abusive relationships, or in the midst of other gendered victimizations, as well as after. For social workers working with women who are currently in unsafe situations, it would be critical to utilize strength- and empowerment-based methods of communication and safety planning. If such women are already engaged in belly dance, and feel safe doing so, it would behoove social workers to support and honor them. Caution would obviously be necessary before recommending a woman begin taking belly dance classes while in an unsafe relationship, in particular. Such caution would likely be no different than that expressed for any activity suggested of her. As with any therapeutic strategy, one size does not fit all. The point here is that belly dance is worth consideration.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: Author received support from (i) Kercher Center for Social Research, Western Michigan University; (ii) Faculty Research and Creative Activities Award, Western Michigan University; (iii) Midwest Sociology Society Endowment.