Transcriber: Elizabeth Chukwu Reviewer: Denise RQ
Good afternoon.
I feel a little bit lost here among all these experts
because I am going to talk about something
that doesn't exactly make you look like an expert:
about clumsiness.
Clumsy people get attention,
but not the kind they really want.
"Clumsy" means you can do certain things,
but that something just doesn't look right.
Many of us are experts on clumsiness to various degrees.
and never make it here to TED.
So I think it's time
to bring these "defects" out into the open.
I am clumsy.
I have fallen off my bike, on my bike, under my bike, you name it.
I have fallen into a fish tank in a store.
And I have been featured in a number of funny home videos on skiing.
Whenever I try to learn any kind of movement,
I experience this massive brain freeze,
especially if people talk and move at the same time.
You see, they think that it's helpful,
but it really is not.
I just stand there like a frozen chicken lost in space.
But even chickens have dreams, don't they?
I have always wanted to dance.
And my two sisters actually practiced dancing for a while.
But somehow,
the motion gene seems to have passed me by.
And then, six years ago,
I went with my partner who lives in the US,
to a party in New York City.
He said,
"You know, the party host says that a hooper is going to be there!"
A "hooper"?
I had no idea what he was talking about,
but then probably, neither did he.
And so we arrived.
And there was this beautiful young lady
swift, and nimble, and flexible,
dancing with a hoop.
A hula hooper!
She asked everyone if they wanted to try it.
including me.
But of course, I declined.
Why would I want to make a fool of myself
in front of that bathing suit goddess?
And then two years later, in 2008,
I was becoming more and more exhausted
due to the hospitality of my office chair.
My body was saying it very clearly to me
that it was time to change something.
I needed to find a form of exercise.
But what kind of exercise would be suitable
for a nerd who doesn't want to go anywhere to exercise?
And then I remembered that my mother had a plastic children's hoop.
When I found it, I discovered another thing about myself:
I had obviously grown a little bit older as well.
But that's a plus.
Because when you grow a little bit older,
you tend to care a little bit less
about what other people think about you.
So I took my hoop,
went straight to the yard in front of all the neighbors,
including the one who always knows best,
and started practising.
It took me a whole week,
before I was able to spin the hoop around my waist.
But something happened in my body.
It persisted.
It was having such a wonderful time,
that it outvoted my brain,
and its critical ideas about clumsiness.
In other words, I was having so much fun
that I no longer cared what anyone thought
including my critical self.
And that's when my hooping obsession started.
As a clumsy person, I decided that if I was going to do this,
I was going to do it right.
At that time,
the US was the hooping capital of the world,
and the European hooping scene was only just emerging.
So I actually became one of the first European Columbuses
to have crossed the Atlantic to personally meet
the best hoop dancers of that time.
Some of them are among the nicest and most humble people
I have ever met.
And I would really like to thank them
for all their kindness and support.
For me, their most important contribution
was that of encouragement.
And mine was that of patience.
Patience means giving your body enough time
to be able to figure things out.
As a clumsy person,
I am very slow at learning things like this.
Elements I see my own students perform in a matter of minutes,
took me months and sometimes even years.
Nevertheless, my body is making progress.
It has become a lot more intelligent
in terms of rhythm, coordination,
and even memory!
I certainly felt I had accomplished a lot.
And that those things were not signs of clumsiness,
but of bodily intelligence.
But, there's always a "but" somewhere, isn't it?
I became more skillful, that's true.
But I didn't really become elegant.
And isn't that what every dancer wants?
Elegance?
Beauty of movement?
And then there was this sad realization that I had not achieved it,
despite years of hard work,
and time spent with the hoop.
So what is this quest for perfection of movement?
This "Swan" business?
It is the ultimate vision of grace.
And as inspiring as it is,
it also gets to you time and time again.
It devalues everything you have achieved
and always brings you back to the beginning.
It means you can do certain things,
but that something just doesn't look right.
So, where does that leave me?
What should I be like?
Elegant, like someone else?
Like who?
Movement professionals?
Are they necessarily the only role model
for someone like me?
Someone who has never danced?
They are mostly younger than me
and have a long history
of dance, fitness, the circus arts, sports.
They have this amazing talent and ability
which has developed hoop dance into the art it is today.
But I think there is one thing
that I don't think many of them can understand:
the feeling in your body
after it discovers that after a lifetime of embarrassment,
and fear, and clumsiness,
it can dance and move
in a hoop!
So, after four years of working with that kind of body,
I feel that it is now also me
who could teach people something.
Something about clumsiness,
and how to make it dance!
So I also started looking around
for a different kind of inspiration.
I soon found people who were different:
not that good, older, not perfect-looking.
Those outside the spotlight.
So, who are these people?
This is Heike from Germany.
She is nearly 60 years old.
She is one of the founders of German hooping
and switched employment, where she was not fulfilled
for a full-time hooping business
with less money and more happiness.
When she dances,
she is more elegant, and youthful in her hooping
than many of the younger dancers I have seen.
This is Joyce from New Zealand.
She is also nearly 60 years old.
She started hooping in India
without any kind of movement knowledge whatsoever,
except a few years of yoga.
And as you can see, she is very talented.
She managed to pull this off in two years;
I hope I can do it one day.
Some people close to her
do not really understand her hooping though.
They feel she is too old.
And she is often reminded of that
by the onlookers in the park as well
when she is doing amazing things like this.
This is 77-year-old Alan, from Great Britain.
Alan has been hooping and attending various hooping events
for six years.
He has actually been hooping longer than some British master teachers.
This is 61-year-old Pam, from North Carolina, USA.
Pam suffers from severe osteoporosis
and has picked up hooping
as a means of fighting it with exercise and joy.
She is talented for what we call twin hooping.
Not only that though.
She herself has recorded
the biggest online video collection
of free videos in this discipline.
In this way, she generously educates
the rest of the hooping community, worldwide.
These are just a few of the dancers
who deserve credit for their immense dedication to the art.
They are diligent and persistent,
but can go unnoticed and unmentioned.
Because they are not the "swans".
Society wishes to convince us
that everything is over for you when you reach 40.
That everything you embark on
in terms of sports after 25 is just too late.
That responsible adults should not play.
That you will automatically look ridiculous at everything
if you're too thin, too fat, too ugly, too clumsy, too something.
This is not true!
Your fears and other people's prejudices
should not stop you in your quest.
Have the courage and try!
You can achieve a lot.
When you reach middle age like me,
you ask yourself the question:
what kind of person do you wish to be when you grow old?
I showed you the people I'm inspired by.
To me, they are far from old.
They are young at heart.
They like to have fun.
They live one day at a time.
They are dedicated to their dance.
And they have overcome their own and other people's prejudices.
Many times, we want to go for something,
but don't dare to.
Sadly, what often holds us back
is not the fear of failing,
but the fear that other people would see us fail.
Some talents are given to us
by the higher power from the very beginning.
They boost our confidence
because they are clearly present and visible to ourselves and others.
Some talents, however,
are inscribed into us in the form of wishes.
I feel that this higher power
wants us to realize those talents
when we are mature enough in life to do so.
My wish was to dance.
What is yours?
(Applause)