Personal Narrative-Funkadelic's One Nation Under A Groove
My eighth grade prom was the night I discovered that I had superpowers. The event was turning out to be a fiasco of the highest degree as everyone awkwardly stood glued to opposing walls, boys facing girls. In hopes of easing the tension, our DJ proceeded to fill the air with a retro funk tune I recognized: Funkadelic’s “One Nation Under a Groove.” My body tensed with indecision;
I couldn’t let this masterpiece fly by our heads! I knew I had to act fast if this prom was to be saved, but I had spent all of middle school slowly building my reputation as the quiet, smart kid, never picked on, never embarrassed, and to lose it all now, so close to leaving...
No. I had to honor George Clinton’s utopian vision and dance these kids out of their
constrictions. …show more content…
I was James Brown with none of the finesse but ten times the chutzpah, and I had to hope that was enough.
To my horror, my performance garnered flummoxed stares from everybody there, but I kept it going. I resolved to go out with a bang, but I wasn’t left to burn; kids left and right came flooding in and circling me, cheering me on and allowing the electric force of the funk to assume a current through their own bodies. In a night, I proved I was the greatest dancer in the world by being the worst dancer in the word.
That moment of wild gall came out of the blue and was the culmination of several firsts in my life. It was the first time I had been spurred into instigating something, all on my own, for the purpose of self-fulfillment. It was the first time anything I did registered in the minds of other people and spurred them to follow. Putting myself out there, bare and funky, had rewarded me with an intense night of dancing the stresses of everyday life away, united as friends on the dance floor. I had found a cathartic exercise of individuality within a signature jerk that showed me life is infinitely more interesting when I don’t restrict myself to a corner after all.
A personal philosophy was forged that night: to make myself open. To ride the
I couldn’t let this masterpiece fly by our heads! I knew I had to act fast if this prom was to be saved, but I had spent all of middle school slowly building my reputation as the quiet, smart kid, never picked on, never embarrassed, and to lose it all now, so close to leaving...
No. I had to honor George Clinton’s utopian vision and dance these kids out of their
constrictions. …show more content…
I was James Brown with none of the finesse but ten times the chutzpah, and I had to hope that was enough.
To my horror, my performance garnered flummoxed stares from everybody there, but I kept it going. I resolved to go out with a bang, but I wasn’t left to burn; kids left and right came flooding in and circling me, cheering me on and allowing the electric force of the funk to assume a current through their own bodies. In a night, I proved I was the greatest dancer in the world by being the worst dancer in the word.
That moment of wild gall came out of the blue and was the culmination of several firsts in my life. It was the first time I had been spurred into instigating something, all on my own, for the purpose of self-fulfillment. It was the first time anything I did registered in the minds of other people and spurred them to follow. Putting myself out there, bare and funky, had rewarded me with an intense night of dancing the stresses of everyday life away, united as friends on the dance floor. I had found a cathartic exercise of individuality within a signature jerk that showed me life is infinitely more interesting when I don’t restrict myself to a corner after all.
A personal philosophy was forged that night: to make myself open. To ride the