It’s Hip To Be a Square

It’s mid-June, and the dance floor is hopping. Groups of eight dancers—two on each side of an imaginary square—turn, twirl, walk in time, and move in and out of a kaleidoscope of formations, skirts swirling and boots shuffling. A booming voice gives instructions over a loudspeaker: “Do-si-do, now promenade.”

One pair moves faster than the others in their square. Michael and Caroline Knight turn together and then Caroline takes an extra twirl before they start interweaving with the other three pairs.

“It’s style,” Caroline says. “It just makes it more fun. Like you can do dry, just do the moves as they are, but when you get really confident and you kind of have a muscle memory of what the moves feel like, then you start adding more spins and flair, and it just makes it fun.”

Among 272 dancers at the Brazos County Expo Complex in Bryan, Caroline, 26, and Michael, 33, are among the youngest on the floor one night at the Texas State Federation Square and Round Dance Festival. The couple, customers of Bryan Texas Utilities, met while square dancing and, after attending the same club for six years, dated then eventually married in December 2024. They say the social aspect of square dancing—the state folk dance of Texas—is one reason they do it.

“It’s like two-stepping in that you kind of have a community and that you find friends doing it,” Caroline says, “but it’s more of a community because you’re not dancing with one person, you’re dancing with seven other people.”

Square dancing is not a spectator sport nor is it a competition—it’s about having fun and developing friendships, all in time to music. And as some dancers are aging out, a passionate corps—and even some younger folks—are getting the word out about the physical, mental and social benefits of a pastime that’s still finding its rhythm.

The 450 attendees at the four-day state festival are just some of the 2,500 square dancers who belong to more than 100 clubs across the state. That’s a lot of dancers—but a lot fewer than there used to be.

“Back in the ’70s and ’80s, the state dances would have 7,000 or 8,000 people at them, and the national dances would have 30,000 to 40,000,” says Matthew Whiteacre, former president of the statewide square dance organization. “It’s down to 10% of that now.

“So in 50 years, we’ve lost 90% of our dancers.”

Whiteacre, a BTU customer, set the theme of the state festival in June: To Boldly Dance … Into the Future, which allowed for an element of science fiction and some conversation about the trajectory of square dancing.

The clubs sustain a tradition of modern Western square dancing, which has its roots in dances, like the French quadrille, that came over with European settlers to the American colonies but has evolved over the years as it spread and mixed with other dance traditions, according to Smithsonian Magazine.

A component of square dancing that sets it apart from most other forms is the caller, a person who says, sings or chants the set of moves, known as calls, for dancers to follow. Callers can sing along with the song lyrics and sometimes use humor and rhymes as they guide the dancers. It can take years to master.

“I have to interweave the calls in with the lyrics, which that’s a skill all in itself,” says Scott Bennett, who has been a caller for over 40 years. “That’s the thing that keeps me attracted to square dancing all these years—it forces me to use lots of different aspects of entertainment.”

Historically, square dancing is done to traditional country songs that feature fiddles and banjos. And while folks still dance to that music, some callers, like Bennett, call to a mix of genres—classic rock, jazz and pop—anything with the right beat. Bennett says one of the more popular songs in recent years was Call Me Maybe by Carly Rae Jepsen.

“I’d put that on, and young folks would just be jumping through the ceiling they were so excited,” Bennett says.

Dozens of calls are standardized through an international organization known as Callerlab. While some calls are fairly intuitive for dancers—such as circle left or forward and back—others have to be taught, such as flutterwheel, slip the clutch and box the gnat.

Most dancers take lessons and go through Callerlab’s Mainstream program, says John Kephart, president of the Texas State Callers’ Association. At this level, dancers learn 68 calls, but some have variations, equating to more than 130 total moves.

It sounds intimidating and may well stop some prospective participants, but any dancer will tell you to try it anyway, even if you have two left feet.

“If you can walk, you can square dance,” says Caroline Knight, who lives in Bryan and is a member of the Brazos Barn Dancers. “I’ve seen young kids—6, that know how to dance really well. And then there’s people that are in their 90s that still dance.”

The activity provides exercise—a two-hour dance can equate to more than 5,000 steps and burns potentially hundreds of calories. Studies even show the dancing may stave off dementia. Jimette Smith started dancing around 1975, and she said another mental benefit is stress relief.

“In square dance, a caller can call anything to any music,” Smith says. “You have to listen—you can’t anticipate—because he can call anything. So you have to leave your troubles at the door because there’s not room for your troubles and concentrating on the dance.”

For 30 years, Smith owned a square dance apparel shop, Rhythm Creations, in Houston. She designed and sold the multicolored dresses, skirts, blouses and frilly petticoats that are worn during dances. Men typically wear long-sleeved Western shirts and bolo ties.

In recent years, some clubs have relaxed the dress code requirements—one of several ways square dance clubs are trying to attract more participants, including updating music and programs, while preserving the traditions and community that have attracted so many.

Square dancing in clubs became popular after World War II, according to the International Encyclopedia of Dance, but participation has declined in recent years as dancers age out and young people enjoy a plethora of options for socializing and burning calories. The pandemic also dealt a blow as dancers dropped out while clubs paused their activities.

Some clubs have incorporated a Callerlab program called Social Square Dancing, released in 2021. It has a shorter training period to appeal to new dancers. The organization also is pushing to streamline some of its other programs.

In an age when people can feel more isolated than ever, the community and connection square dancing provides are enticing new participants. The family-friendly nature of the activity—there’s no drinking or smoking allowed—enables multigenerational participation.

“Everybody here is part of what we call our square dance family,” says Claudia Lester. She and her husband, Gary, found a community of unmatched camaraderie when they started dancing 15 years ago.

Some clubs are seeing an increase in numbers. Audrey Mansell, former president of the North Texas Square and Round Dance Association and a Tri-County Electric Cooperative member, said they’ve seen growth in their 26 clubs for the first time in 13 years, which she attributes to members intentionally inviting friends to join and adopting a relaxed dress code.

Ben Vinson, a freshman at Texas A&M University, danced in high school with the H-Town Squares, a club for teens and young adults in Houston geared toward homeschooled students. The club boasts 110 dancers, making it one of the largest in the state.

Vinson says the friendships he forged made the challenge of learning the complicated moves worth his while.

“I do it mainly for the fellowship,” he says, “but it’s still a cool skill to have.”

Caroline Knight also got into square dancing as a teenager when friends invited her to join them, though at first she was skeptical.

“I thought it was going to be super folky and corny, and I was like, ‘I don’t know if I’ll like it, but I want to hang out with you so I’ll give it a try,’ ” Knight says. “And it is so much fun, especially when you’re dancing with people that are really excited about it.”

Once a dancer is hooked, they may be in for life. Charles Spoon, president of the Lubbock Area Square and Round Dance Federation, encourages anyone who’s curious about square dancing to try it. The 81-year-old is on the dance floor about 150 nights out of the year and went to his first dance when his then-girlfriend Ellen, now his wife, asked him to give it a shot.

“She said, ‘Just try it one time. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to go,’ and I said, ‘OK,’ ” says Spoon, a member of South Plains Electric Cooperative. “So I tried it. That was back in 1968.

“And I’m still doing it.”