It’s Cool to Be Square

by Fayeruz Regan 03.2026

You know things are bad when news anchors sound as if they should be wearing tin foil hats. Conspiracy theorists may feel validated right now, but many of us are trudging through a simulation of daily life, as if the world isn't on fire. In a bid for survival, I've been seeking joy. Aggressively. I heard that square dancing was enjoying a renaissance, and that all the cool kids were doing it down at Studio Two Three in Manchester. So I tried it.

…Are you still there? For those still reading, I can assure you it was pure joy.

In my last article, I wrote about how community pulls us through hard times. Whether to promote social change or improve mental health, it works well if we can wriggle out of our comfort zone: individualism. When I found RVA Squares on Instagram, the comment section blew up about the sense of community everyone felt.  I saw aerial views of hipsters swinging their partners 'round and 'round. Was this the demographic for square dancing now? People with tattoos and ironic mustaches? They clearly weren’t concerned about looking cool. Which is, of course, the epitome of cool.

Up in Northern Virginia, elementary schools taught the Virginia Reel in gym class. I remember the joy of it: swinging, stomping, throwing my head back. But would it have the same effect in adulthood? In the throes of winter, perimenopause, and the downfall of Western imperialism?  I shared on Instagram, asking friends to come with me. No response. My husband's foot hurt. My kid called it “cringe.” When texting friends, the answers ranged from “You're kidding, right?” to things unprintable.

I was afraid to go alone. Once, on a Mediterranean cruise, I filled my sea travel days with dance classes. We learned how to dance like zombies from Michael Jackson's Thriller! The only class I couldn't join was the tango, only I hadn't known it yet. I showed up to see my dance buddies, and the instructor said, in a judgier-than-necessary tone, “You can't do the tango without a partner.” All the couples on the dance floor looked at me with pity and embarrassment as I left the studio. It really does take two to tango.

However, RVA Squares confirmed I could fly solo. So I rolled up and entered a ballroom filled with people. The Richmond Rounders played live--sweet bluegrass music from Appalachia. The event started with a dance lesson from 7:30 to 8 p.m. A caller stood on stage before the mic, choreographing us. We learned basic moves like the do-si-do and the promenade. Volunteers made sure no one felt left out. Two danced with me – the latter of which came all the way from Maryland! “A lot of people I meet here said they loved square dancing in elementary school,” they said. I told them I was chasing that same joy.

The first thing I noticed was the laughter. During the lesson, people were swinging their weight around and getting their bearings. It's loose and wild. Peals of laughter and conversation broke out every time we practiced a new move. I noticed that when you're focused on coordinating with others, you think less about what you look like, and more about the flow of your team. It takes self-consciousness out of it. Even in a dark club with a belly full of liquid courage, women are aware of being watched and act accordingly. Here, we felt free. 

The second thing I noticed was that the LGBTQ community was out in full force. I met a lesbian couple on their epic first date, and another that had been married since 2016. There was gender fluidity, and though the attendance was multi-generational, no one there looked like they would furrow their brow over some pronouns.

The third thing I noticed was that the sense of community was real. The nature of square dancing requires lots of mixing and matching, a raucous version of an English ball from a Jane Austen novel.  Contra dancing lines with partners dancing down the middle, big circles, and partner switching – everyone was a stranger until no one was. Because of the need for coordination, you make eye contact. Because it’s fun, you are smiling. I stood back at one point and took stock of the dance floor, marveling at the fact that we were all dancing together. I had beamed at every single one of those faces, and they had beamed right back.

Instagram: @rvasquaredance