Lion Dancing
15
→ By Dilan Chock-Makiya (‘23) PHOTO ESSAY
(Above) My uncle Jason’s lion dance club performed at the Chinatown Cultural Plaza as part of the Lunar New Year celebrations in Chinatown this February.
I remember wandering around Chinatown when I was little with my mini hand-made Chinese lion puppet on a string, admiring its contrasting neon and pastel colors. I would ask my dad to carry me on the top of his shoulders so that I could see the different dances being performed by the life-sized “lions”—performers dancing underneath ornate lion costumes. I would admire the performers’ bravery when they came face to face with the firecrackers being set off amidst their dance moves. Black and gray smoke would fill the air, making it hard to see anything except the fiery sparks at the end of the firecracker ropes. Sometimes the loud sounds would scare me, so I would put on my dad’s noise-canceling headphones. Over time I became more comfortable with the deafening drums and explosive firecrackers that would throw gravel at my legs. While he enjoyed celebrating our Chinese heritage, my dad never forced me to keep going to Chinatown during the Lunar New Year season as I got older. However, something kept on drawing me back to the festive Chinatown streets every year.