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Childhood dance classes left me pretty traumatized, and by 10th grade, I was ready to give up. But the late local choreographer Wayne Yorke was determined to pull some movement out of me. He made me try the congo (a back-breaking number with African movements that—when coupled with summer heat—made me pant), the jig (a rocking footsy type of syncopation and a cute excuse to step on my boy partner’s feet), and the ever-so-graceful belle (which required too many pam-pi-dams and foot-ball-chains). But in the end, Yorke taught me more respect for Caribbean dance than anything else. Beg me, and I could try to bust a move for you. But don’t waste your energy. Instead, go see the Denver-based Cleo Parker Robinson Dance Ensemble at 6 p.m. at the Kennedy Center’s Millennium Stage. Free. (202) 467-4600. (Ayesha Morris)