Invitation to Practice Community Care Via Layers of Safety

It felt so. good. to be dancing again. There were a good dozen folks for a cozy outdoor sunlit dance floor. Everyone was masked. There was still smiling, laughing, wonder, delight, learning, meeting new folks. Still play, still camaraderie, still community. All the things I missed were still there. It's doable y'all. Feeling so full in a way that I haven't felt since the beginning of the pandemic. This is what community looks like. Sundays at Oxygen Tango is the place to be 💖

-some of my reflections on Oxygen’s first COVID-Safer Sunday gathering in Jan. 2023

Way back in October of last year, during our quarterly community gathering, one of the “Big Why’s” I named as a motivating factor to continue doing this work was: I want to be able to dance with my friends and loved ones again without feeling like we are needlessly risking our lives and livelihood. I want to create spaces where this is celebrated, and I want to spend my time in those spaces. I miss being able to do this. And it’s very clear that the dance communities I used to be a part of don’t miss me–or any of their immunocompromised counterparts. At least not enough to wear a mask.

At the start of the pandemic, I was already a year into burnout from my home social dance communities. For context, I started dancing in 2010. I’d been dancing 3 nights a week on average since then, on top of periods of being part of a dance team that rehearsed 2 nights a week. I was immersed. And then I wasn’t.

Now, mid-September of 2023, coming up on 8 months of attending COVID-Safer Sundays at Oxygen, I’m connecting with parts of myself I haven’t seen for at least 4 years–parts that were so far removed that I’d almost forgotten they’d existed, despite a very real and physical daily mourning of their distance. I’m the furthest I’ve ever been in the learning lab. I’m the most comfortable I’ve ever felt with leading. There is so much joy and curiosity in progressing with my tango journey, and I can’t help but think of all the folks out there mourning parts of themselves that only felt safe or accessible within communal dancing. 

Over the past 3 years of figuring out how to gather with care during the the pandemic, I’ve been in a lot of conversations and typed out a lot of questions and copy/pasted a lot of responses in collective community efforts to create spaces where loved ones feel safe. Even if it’s just for a few hours or a few days, I’ve found that–just like any other skill–it’s become easier and easier with practice to gather in ways that don’t deny literally life-threatening aspects of reality. I’ve gone on week-long vacations with friends. I’ve attended funerals. I’ve spent the better part of a month with family despite the fact that our practices aren’t homogenous. I’ve gone to outdoor gatherings where masks were required, weren’t required, checking for vax cards and not. I’ve gathered with friends and family who still mask and those who have decided not to anymore. 

What I’m saying is–the ways to practice safety are so numerous, flexible, and available that choosing to practice absolutely none of them is incompatible with meaningfully living out core values like “connection,” “belonging,” and “accountability.”

Before I digress any further, I want to come back to the guiding touchstones behind how and why I write: 

I write these from a place of wanting to normalize people having a process and sharing their processes (with those who consent) of dismantling systems of oppression within themselves, their communities, and the world at large.

I want to normalize allowing this process to be messy, unsure, and ambiguous at times–and all of the emotions that come with that–regardless of whether you experience more harm or more benefits from these systems. I want to normalize looking at how I can still take action anyway. These writings reflect my own messy, unsure, ambiguous jumble of experiences, learnings, and integration as I take action where and when I can.

In which ways can I support myself and others in taking incremental, consistent, imperfect action?

I’m not an expert in sociology, epidemiology, trauma-healing, social justice, or even tango. But I absolutely can use my own experiences to the best of my ability to act in ways informed by those most marginalized.I can absolutely move at a pace that allows needs to be expressed, and that allows for ways to meet those needs to emerge.

For this issue, I wanted to share some of the practices I layer for safe gathering, and some of the anchor points that help me create spaces that impactfully keep me and my loved ones safe. I hope that these are useful in taking small steps to contribute to and create safe spaces in your own communities.

First and foremost, these practices are informed by disabled and immunocompromised communities as well as my own experiences of surviving at the intersection of a number of other marginalized identities.

Above all, I feel that the most important factor for communication has been transparency, as opposed to imposed homogeneity, in all my practices. Transparency allows everyone to make informed decisions about how and whether they show up in a way that can keep themselves and their loved ones safe, regardless of what practices people do or do not implement (and if you’ll remember, Transparency, Agency, and Peer Support are all pillars of trauma-informed practices as well).

And, transparency is not a substitute for effective practices, nor does it automatically align you with living out values of connection, belonging, or accountability. Transparency is the least you can do, regardless of what practices will be implemented at an event. As someone with a chronic condition, I’d rather know that COVID safety practices won’t be present and make the hard choice of whether to show up–instead of showing up expecting safer practices and only realizing once I’m there that I would have rather stayed home.

Here’s a compilation of snippets of information I send folks when we’re preparing to meet, especially if we plan to be unmasked (full invitation to use these in your own practices!)

As you can see, this takes lots of communication, but isn’t inherently hard. However, when you factor in life-fatigue, COVID-fatigue, busyness, survival fatigue, CDC misinformation, and social norms around how much “planning” starts to detract from “having a good time” etc., and it’s understandable that this feels like a lot and that it feels super complicated. 

Here are some guiding questions that help me get conversations started around gathering safely and with care:

  • Regarding the space and others’ practices–What do we know? What don’t we know?

  • What are the things that everyone is willing and able to do?

  • Are there non-negotiables that anyone has?

  • With the protocols we choose as a group, who is least safe? Is there anyone who is excluded entirely?

  • How can we most clearly and transparently communicate the practices of the space, with the aim being that people can make the most informed decision possible about how and whether they want to show up?

Note that none of this starts with saying that anyone “has to” do anything.

What makes me feel safe at Oxygen’s COVID-Safer Sundays is a combination of the following layers of practice:

  • High-filtration masks are required by all participants (N95 or KN-94s)

  • Oxygen provides a variety of these types of masks with admission

  • The space is outdoors by default. If weather necessitates that we go indoors, there is excellent ventilation and HEPA filters

  • There’s a separate space on the patio where folks can go to unmask for any reason–drinking, taking a break, etc.

  • At the beginning of class and practica, instructors go over best practices around mask fitting, adjusting your mask when needed, defaulting to open embrace unless explicitly receiving consent from whoever you’re dancing with, and sanitizing your hands between partners

  • At the end of every class, there’s a contact tracing reminder for folks to anonymously let the instructors know if they were possibly sick at one of the gatherings, and an email goes out to everyone who may have been in class at that time

  • Oxygen regularly hosts conversations with community members on any other practices that would feel good in the space

What’s great about these practices is that no one is asking any of the attendees to change their lives or practices outside of class (although it’d be great if folks did!). Regardless of what you practice out in the world, there are very clear, low-effort requests for the 2-3 hours that you’re here.

It is so doable y'all. Get to know each others' needs. Connect. Move together. Adjust. Ask for help. Keep experimenting. Just. Like. Dancing.

Getting to dance and getting to be in relationship with friends, collaborators, co-conspirators is part of staying nourished and resourced enough to maintain practices of dismantling white supremacy and disrupting systems of oppression when and how we can. Get your people.

Options for Layers of Practice (from People’s CDC)

  1. Improving air quality

  2. Wearing well-fitting and high-quality masks

  3. Increasing physical distance and decreasing time around others

  4. Reducing time spent close to others indoors

  5. Limiting number of exposures

  6. Getting vaccinated and boosted

  7. Covid testing

BONUS layers (added by me)

  1. Contact tracing

  2. Nasal Sprays for pre- and post-event preparation

  3. Mouthwash for pre- and post-event preparation