Dancing with Joy Harjo to Beyoncé

“Yes, that was me whirling on the dance floor. We made such a racket

with all that joy. I loved the whole world in that silly music.”

— Joy Harjo, “No”

I do not think Joy Harjo has ever met Beyoncé, but I have met Joy Harjo.

Dancing back when those gatherings put on 10pm parties open to all, 

dancing in DC or Baltimore, Tampa or Portland, who knows at this point?

Was it “Single Ladies” that drew this great-grandmother to the banquet floor?

Def — it had to be “Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It).”

I knew the dance thanks to YouTube and Chris and Naheed.

I knew to roll my hips and work those sexy thighs because for years,

friends had helped me see myself on the dance floor:

Natasha’s living room; Mike’s bedroom; Jessie and Ben; countless bars.

It was during what I can only describe as the choo-choo trot –

the hitched up tri-step where the arms cut fast and firm –

when Joy joined the group and met me with the open-eyed wonder

of a five-year-old thrilled for the ball pit at McDonald's.

We clapped. We laughed. We snapped our palms front and back.

And I didn’t have to tell her how her words changed me. The permission 

to love herself, to love yourself. To hold yourself — 

which means to hold everyone on this dance floor.

And yes, that is a metaphor, and yes,

you must forgive my middle school awkwardness, the flare-up twee.

I am just so excited to be living this life with you, 

I am so excited to be beautiful and free.