Part of the art of blogging involves revealing yourself to the masses through an anonymous medium.  Well, since I'm a relatively open, real person, it isn't such an incognito undertaking.  But we're all friends on OnSugar, so here goes...

I used to be a dancer.

Actually, I still am, but not like I was when I was younger.  I was born into a family of competitive, avid ballroom and swing dancers, and did them all proud in my tiny, formative years.  I was learning ballroom, latin, and swing dancing before most kids could walk, and could execute a decent cha-cha and jitterbug by grade one.  I loved dancing, and my parents, grandmother, and/or aunt took me everywhere they could.  I seemed on a fast-track to becoming a future member of the dancesport community.

That is, until my legs failed me the first time at age nine.

I was shuttled from specialist to specialist, only to find that I already had "advanced arthritis" in my lower limbs and a major bone deformity.  No one knew how to correct it, everyone was afraid to touch me at such a young age, and no one had a very optimistic prognosis.

I'll spare you the gory details, but umpteen surgeries and a world of hell later, nothing improved... except my outlook on life, that is.

When I was fourteen, the first full year I spent non-ambulatory, my parents took me to a swanky New Year's event that included dancing into the wee hours.  I spent the first chunk of time being surly, missish, and not really trying to do anything other than feel sorry for myself.  Suddenly, the DJ slid from a generic dance tune to one my mom and I had danced to a zillion times when I was a baby.  It was, "Heaven Must Be Missing an Angel" by Tavares, and as it relates to my given name, she would sing it to me while hugging me close to her, even before I could walk.  That song still makes me happy.

"Angel, c'mon, let's do this.  We'll kick their asses!" my Mom smirked, then grabbed my hand and pulled me bodily out onto the dance floor.

And we danced.

I don't know how she knew, or how I knew, but somehow we both just moved in synch, wheelchair and all, and cleared the floor amidst a standing ovation from onlookers.  We rocked it, and I have never once looked back.  I found out later that she had requested that song specifically, knowing I'd never deny my Momma a turn about to a song from my babyhood.

Now that I'm a grown woman, my husband is the one who usually takes me out on literal 'spins' around the dance floor, and his own dance background shows.  When he was a child, he took dance for fourteen years, including jazz, tap, ballet, and modern, but I've since helped him add disco, swing, ballroom, Latin, and goth dancing to his impressive repertoire.  And between the two of us, we can execute a perfect wheelie tango that would sex the pants off any standing couple.

And, most importantly, we're not alone.

Across the Pond, the Brits have done it again by way of progress and mainstreaming PWDs, but, this time, the Yanks aren't too far behind.

The American DanceWheels Foundation recently released an informative email to their members that featured their most recent accomplishments:

"Ballroom and Latin Dancers using wheelchairs will be featured in a new television series, Dancing on Wheels, debuting next year in the United Kingdom. News about this innovative and controversial dance show created a buzz in the U.S. and producers from America's Got Talent asked American DanceWheels Foundation to audition for their show."

American DanceWheels is a fantastic organization, and one of the many wheelie dancing orgs here on our fair planet, along with Wheelchair Dancesport USA, Wheel Chair Dance Sport Australia, Malta Wheelchair Dancesport Association, and B.C.'s Canadian Wheelchair Dance Academy.

The release goes on to include more local news...

"ADF highlights this past year included a three-page article in the Philadelphia Inquirer about our own Reesa Marchetti and husband Dan.  Reesa has had her own band for over thirty years and uses a power wheelchair to dance. She and Dan dance a mean Fox Trot and always bring the house down when they perform. You can read Reesa's story on our website, and yes, Reesa is as colorful on the dance floor as she is in life!!"

Their site is a great resource for those of us who still love to cut a rug on wheels, along with many other similar sites on the Web.  For people like me who remember when the notion of dancing without legs was as bizarre as disabled models, we're in luck.  Maybe we're catching up with the world; maybe the world is catching up with us, but either way...

We're taking the world by storm.

(Photos from my personal collection and New Mobility Magazine.)