How do you jerk the dance

How to Do the Jerk in 10 easy steps « Hip Hop :: WonderHowTo

This video demonstrates different types of jerking techniques and styles. The first style is The New Jerk, where you push your legs with your arms and get low. Step 2 is the New Reject where you put your feet outwards as you step. Step 3 is threading, where you grab your foot and jump over your leg. Step 4 is the slide back, where you put your foot up and swing back to slide back. Step 5 is the Head Bang, where you jump in the air and headbutt the air. Step 6 is the mini dip, where you jump slightly and extend your foot. Step 6 is footwork where you turn your body on the Reject move, getting on your heels as necessary. Step 7 is the spin drop where you spin and drop down onto your knees and back up quickly. Step 8 is pindrop combos, where you go back into pindrops after several moves. Step 10 is Dougie, where the hands are especially used. These 10 moves can really help someone become a better jerker.

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What is TikTok? Fresno, California teacher gets millions of views on app with videos, songs showing off jerk dance at school



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ByBrittany Jacob via

Thursday, December 9, 2021


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Austin Lemay, the energetic teacher at Tenaya Middle School in Fresno, was seen on video busting out his old moves for his students.

FRESNO, Calif. -- Whether you were dusting your shoulder off or leanin' and rockin', memorable Hip Hop dances from the early 2000s are making their way through the viral TikTok dance craze.

Austin Lemay, the energetic teacher at Tenaya Middle School in Fresno, was seen on video busting out his old moves for his students.

"I've been waiting 30 years for this," he said.

SEE ALSO | Chicago teacher, students go viral with killer dance routine inspired by 'Candyman' movie

Lemay is the Campus Culture Director. Dancing on Fridays after class is a regular event for students.

These teens get to show their moves outside of the classroom or even praise Mr.Lemay for his.

"This is my job and this is my career," Lemay said. "More than anything, this is my passion as it is with every other teacher and adult here on campus. These kids are our passion."

The video was posted by fellow teacher Jenny McCauley to bring attention to the good things happening at the school.

In just one day, it received millions of views.

McCauley says the student-staff connection is a high priority for the school.

"We upped our game pretty much," she said. "We stepped it up, we engage with the kids and we have fun. Having fun is really important to us."

RELATED | Spanish teacher calls himself the Beyoncé of Bellaire High School

"It's been very important to us to provide an environment where kids want to be here, they want to come and connect with other people," says principal Armen Torigian. "I feel like if kids' heads are in the right spot, they are feeling safe and they are having fun, then we can teach them anything that they need to learn."

Dereona Thepphakaysone is one of Mr. Lemay's students and the mastermind behind the original post.

"Due to the pandemic, things slowed down and so I feel like kids are still scared to come back to school and try to make new friends," she said. "Having things more fun makes them feel included, makes them excited to go to school."

Lemay credits his parents for his moves and willingness to get up and dance.

He says he hopes to continue shedding a positive light for the school and the students.

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You are dancing - Alexander Yakovlev

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Read online “While you dance”, Laura Idrisova-liters

Illustrator Alina Demchenko

© Laura Idrisova, 2018

© Alina Demchenko, Illustrations, 2018

ISBN 978-4493-6302-2

Created by Ridero intelligent publishing system


Cold light spread over the surface of the medical instruments. It smelled of iodine. The silence was broken by the slow pace of the clock. Mikael took off his robe and gloves. I washed my hands for a long time and thoroughly. In the office, he spent fifteen minutes filling out forms. The day was set, and making notes was a special pleasure. The phone rang. However, Mikael did not even look in his direction - the habit of doing quality work did not allow him to be distracted. Having finished, Mikael, as usual, lingered in the office for thirty minutes - waiting for his colleagues to leave the building. After adjusting the already neatly laid out papers for the hundredth time, he finally closed the office door behind him.

Fogs have swallowed up houses and streets - the city has disappeared. Mikael overtook rare, silent passers-by. The sound of his footsteps echoed far ahead, disappearing into a gray veil.

Lanterns flashed here and there when he woke up. Mikael was standing in an unfamiliar alley near a dark brick building. "Toy Museum," Mikael read on the sign. There was little time left before closing. The doors of the museum swung open as soon as he touched them. He coughed while waiting for the servants, but no one answered.

Silence reigned inside - unfriendly, cold. Mikael walked from hall to hall. From all sides, clowns, bears and baby dolls stared at him with glassy and button eyes. It began to seem to Mikael that the space was narrowing, and the toys were approaching him with small steps.

A glass case caught his attention. Under a transparent cap stood a mechanical doll - the most complex interweaving of springs, gears, thin cables. The steel parts on display caused dislike. The doll's eyes were completely black. Mikael looked at them without looking away - it seemed that from this darkness they were watching him.

– The museum is closing!

Mikael turned around with a start. A man in uniform was waiting for him. At the very door, Mikael heard the chatter of the guards.

- What is it this time?

- Today, two dads were discussing in a whisper the news from the cabaret "Luxury Legs". A mysterious dancer has entered the city and will give only a few performances. It is in this cabaret!

- Gossip alone, and you hung your ears.

- I tell you, men lose their minds instantly! And the father hides his daughter before and after the number. I can't even imagine what she's doing! If only we could take a look...

- Well, yes, they are waiting for you impatiently! Luxurious Legs is not only a cabaret, but also an expensive brothel. Not everyone can afford a pass there.

Mikael left. He was not surprised by what he heard - everything points to the fact that it is no longer possible to wait. He waved his hand to the car with the checkers, and in a moment it carried him through the night streets.

A long-awaited meeting

The cabaret "Luxury Legs" lit up almost the entire block with neon. A huge three-story building, decorated with turrets, hung over the street like a witch's castle. Although in this part of the city every second house could become an illustration for a book of medieval fairy tales.

Music thumped behind the solid doors. Three big men, standing behind a massive chain, looked at each one intently before letting them inside. Blomkvist was embarrassed to have to push around here - he did not want to be mistaken for another fan of erotic dances and cheap love.

It was getting more and more crowded. Mikael, wincing inwardly, walked closer to the entrance. Many were tipsy. The girls working in the cabaret were discussed with gusto, guesses about the upcoming performance were heard. Mikael was struck by the conversation between two men who, as he understood, saw the performance yesterday. Not a single vulgarity was said about the mysterious dancer - words were carefully chosen, adoration was heard in voices.

Mikael looked at his watch - he had been here for thirty-seven minutes, but did not dare to enter. Calling himself a craven coward, he walked away along the crowd, whose tail was fading into darkness. Finally, the music and speech began to dissipate. Turning the corner, he almost ran into a tall man. A gray beard, the brim of an old hat, coupled with the dim light of a lantern, hid the face of a passerby. Mikael apologized and hurried on. However, the man stopped him, asking in a thick bass voice what time it was.

“Thirty-two minutes past nine,” Blomkvist replied.

The stranger asked:

- Aren't you going to stay for the performance?

- I don't think I'll find anything for myself there. I never liked this kind of dancing.

“Cancan can also touch the soul if you dance skillfully,” the man said, continuing to look at Mikael. – Believe me, you risk missing something incredible!

Mikael liked the voice of the speaker.

- How do you know? he smiled.

- How can I not know if my creation is dancing! - the stranger laughed, - Yes! My daughter is performing today.

Mikael's heart sank. This was the same person he had been waiting for so long to meet. Trying not to give himself away, Mikael said:

- I do not think that this is a reason for a good father to rejoice.

- You are wrong! Look, you definitely need to see everything for yourself. Otherwise, we will speak different languages.

- I'm afraid they won't let me in.

- So you will be with me. Please please an old man, - said the stranger, and after a pause he added sarcastically - And you, it is clear right away, are a very correct person.

The last words sounded like an insult. The stranger with a strong step moved towards the cabaret. “He is still very strong. Why did he hide the existence of his daughter? She is probably the same age as me,” thought Mikael, following him. The image of this woman molded in my head - thick make-up, designed to hide extra years, a yellow-toothed smile, fatigue in her eyes. Poor woman!

They walked around the building. A small door seemed to be drawn on the tattered wall. And there, too, people languished in anticipation. Pushing unceremoniously through the crowd, the stranger knocked and turned to Mikael.

- Did you see how many people there were? he whispered.

Mikael decided not to hide his thoughts:

- Some of this "people" spoke very ugly about your daughter. In your place, I would not be so enthusiastic.

A window has opened in the door.

“We have arrived,” the old man said.

The window has disappeared, the clicks of unlocking locks have been heard. The crowd came to life, spoke, reached out to them. A tall man squeezed through the door and pointed to Mikael:

- Is this one with you?

- Yes.

The man let them in, growling at the others.

Soft light spilled inside, muffled laughter could be heard. From the depths of the dark corridors, a fervent melody was muffled. The scents of perfume and kitchen created a mysterious mixture. Here everything was saturated with feminine, quivering. Mikael's heart beat faster for some reason.

The old man walked confidently ahead.

- They spoke ugly, you say? Those are the ones who haven't seen it yet. But nothing, - the man laughed, - many of them will come out of here as different people. Trust me, young man.

Mikael was struck by these words.

- Are you saying that seeing your daughter on the stage of a smoky tavern will change me? Your proud tone is disgusting. And I must say that you look more like a pimp than a caring father!

The old man stopped so abruptly that Mikael ran into him. For a few moments the stranger was silent. It was impossible to understand whether he was offended or angry - his face was in shadow. Finally, he opened the door and calmly said:

- Go there. I will agree with the hostess - you will have the best table. As for the question, yes. You will change. I will not respond to insults now, because I know that you do not understand what you are talking about. And at our next meeting, I will accept your apologies.

Throat was choked with anger born out of nowhere. I wanted to hit this man. Clenching his fists and muttering: "Well, we'll see!" Mikael quickly walked in the indicated direction. Towards flew music, voices, laughter. Now he won't leave, Mikael thought, now he will stay until the end. And then he will spit in the madman's face. The last curtain separated him from the hall. He flung it open, bracing himself for many puzzled looks. However, apart from the waitress, who was anxiously adjusting her earpiece, no one paid any attention to him.

“Do you need a table,” the girl didn’t ask, but said in the affirmative.

Looking away from the exposed breasts, Mikael nodded angrily:

– And I was promised the best of all there is!

The waitress smiled:

– Oh, of course. I was warned.

She wiggled her hips, weaving between sofas and chairs. The place was really good - on a hill, in partial shade. A group of men heading there became indignant. However, the waitress, and mainly the broad-shouldered guy who appeared behind her, quickly calmed them down.

“They are in order here! - thought Mikael, - No wonder they say that this cabaret is considered the best in the city. Well, you got carried away, buddy!" He mentally chuckled.

Mikael ordered a drink first. The old man knocked him off balance. There was no point in arranging bravado, getting angry. In the end, this is just an elderly man who has lost his mind. All that was required was to talk to him, ask a few questions. However, how contemptuously his words sounded: “You are the right person”! Mikael was proud of his principles. Striving to achieve your goals, discipline yourself is much more important than indulging in all serious pursuits in pursuit of pleasures.

The cabaret was filling up. Men sat at tables, hung from the railings of the upper floors, trampled along the walls. Poor and rich, young and old - in a word, men of any stripe. But the sensitive, almost tangible line was not between social classes. Those present were divided into merry, drunken companies and those who looked at the stage in tense expectation. The first laughed loudly, demanded girls. The second group of men, there were fewer of them, was very different. Someone was fiddling with the bouquet, someone was throwing indignant glances at those who were noisy. Dislike accumulated in the air. It felt like a little more and the two sides would clash. "Beginners" and those who have already seen her ,” Blomkvist guessed. He became curious.

Under a broken fanfare, the entertainer jumped onto the stage. Glare flew from her pomaded hair and a tailcoat embroidered with beads. A thin mustache seemed painted on a swollen face.

- Good night, gentlemen, good night! Cabaret "Luxury Legs" - and the legs of our charmers, I vouch, are really magnificent! - he winked conspiratorially - and Madame Joubert herself is happy to welcome you! - the entertainer with a bow turned to the box above the stage on the right.

A soffit beam fell on the railing and illuminated a portly lady, looking around the audience without a smile. Claps were heard in the hall, shouts of “Vivat”, someone whistled daringly. Madame Joubert returned the dubious greetings with an important nod, the lights went out and she disappeared. The entertainer continued:

- I see our cabaret is crowded again. And you did the right thing by coming here. Tonight will be an unforgettable evening, I swear on my honor!

There was a derisive snort in the hall.

- Yes, yes! It is my honor, although I see that some of you doubt me, - a smile played on the face of the entertainer, but resentment splashed in his voice.

- Our beauties have prepared incendiary dances. Handsome Arno with his guys will perform mischievous and bold songs for you. And at midnight, a special guest, Dilin, will perform. Well, that's enough talking. Time to have fun!

The musicians played smartly, and the entertainer disappeared into the frills of colorful skirts. The dancers swirled on the stage.

Each performance was thought out to the smallest detail, striking with a kaleidoscope of vivid images and scenery. The perky shepherdesses were replaced by Egyptian priestesses, and those by eastern houris. Shameless movements, inviting glances - Mikael could not help but admit that the blood ran faster through the veins. And yet, after each dance, there was an unpleasant aftertaste - it seemed incredible to think that women like to expose themselves in such a light. He noticed how the girls began to descend into the hall from the upper floors. Some were already sitting at the tables and chirping something to the men who were not listening to them.

The uproar in the hall grew so much that sometimes it was covered by the roar of music. The entertainer threw confetti and dirty jokes off the stage. Curses and broken dishes rang out nearby - a quarrel broke out. Cigarette smoke wove into intricate patterns. The waitresses shone with sweaty bodies, flashing between the columns. Someone started dancing. Several drunkenly stumbling couples were climbing stairs leading, presumably, to rooms...

Blomkvist got up. He had had enough - he was filled with disgust at everything he saw. He didn't come here for that. But as soon as he took a step, the music stopped. The entertainer waved his hands at the wave of indignation.

- Gentlemen, don't worry! The ladies will be back! And poor Arno was hoarse while he sang. He urgently needs, if not a drop of love, then at least a sip of alcohol - to wet his throat! - the entertainer fell silent, obviously expecting laughter, but no one laughed. Then he raised his finger, urging them to listen. Somewhere in the heart of the cabaret, a clock chimed.

- Exactly midnight, gentlemen. Midnight is the time for Dilin's performance.

Broad-shouldered guys grew up like shadows around the stage. Crossing their arms, they gazed into the hall. The light slipped off the stage, leaving it in darkness and stopped on the curtain, behind which the dancers ran.

All eyes turned to the swaying curtain. It became quiet. For a whole minute nothing happened.

Suddenly the lightest sounds of a violin soared up to the ceiling. A sigh passed over the crowd. The curtain was thrown back and Dilin appeared.


First, Mikael saw how strong legs in pointe shoes gently step towards the stage. Feeling incomprehensible fear, he looked up. Flexible camp, tender wrists, easily breathing chest. Dilin went out without raising her head. Shoulders slumped, hair tied awkwardly with a pink ribbon. Frozen, she looked ahead with a smile.

The girl was eighteen years old. The narrow straps of the gray tank top and the tutu made her look even younger. Turning her big-eyed, doll-like face to the audience, she was waiting for something. When the music sounded bolder, Dilin began to dance.

Her arms and legs fluttered like butterflies. Each melting movement stabbed in the chest. Dilin tremblingly weaved magical letters with her body. Mikael did not see the dance, he read, he listened to the touching story about spring, about the sonorous drop. About how gardens bloom and streams murmur. About the first thunderstorms and stormy but short downpours. A fresh breeze blew in my face. I remembered the languor of first love, timid kisses. And the sky! a sky full of the brightest stars, as they are only in youth. The music led into the crystal depths, and Dilin followed her, swiftly running up the rainbow higher and higher. She played with the sounds of the violin, enjoying them, bathing in them. The rain fell behind them into the abyss, as if behind a flock of mischievous swallows, took off again, and every time the heart sank from the painful feeling of beauty.

Surrounded by bright pictures, Dilin stopped. Melted, trembling, the last note. The curtain fell down, hiding the girl. The silence was broken by applause. A wave of people surged towards the stage. Bouquets rained down, someone shouted: "An encore!" Shouts, weeping, stomping - the Babylonian pandemonium began in the cabaret.

Mikael woke up. He stood, clutching the edge of the table so that his fingers were numb. Several men nearby were hurriedly rubbing their eyes. Many faces were bright, full of pure thought.

Whirlwinds of words, translucent images swept through my head. Ruthless applause beat and beat in the ears. Mikael, like a blind man, with his hands out in front of him, made his way through the crowd in search of a way out. Having stumbled upon the bar counter, he uttered with difficulty:

– Is that all for today?

The bartender did not answer right away - it seemed that he needed time to return to the present.

- Yes. Every midnight and only one dance.

There was still a queue at the entrance. He jumped out of the crowd of people and ran to the service entrance. Madame Joubert's menacing guard poured out of the building. Behind the impregnable wall of their backs, a bearded stranger led his daughter to an approaching car. The girl was wrapped in a long cloak with a hood. Only pointe shoes were visible.

- Dilin, I beg you, let me have one date! You are beautiful! Don't be so cruel! shouted the displaced crowd.

The old man and his daughter got into the car, and she, purring, took off. Several cars with guards followed them. With a disappointed sigh, people gradually dispersed.

The habitual restraint left Mikael. Dylin! That was the only name that suited her. How pure, how beautiful this girl is! The dance still swirled inside. And yet anxiety prickled at the fiery soul. It tossed and turned in the depths, cooling rapture and bringing confusion. There was something subtly close, dear to him in this magical dance.

He rushed through the cold streets, filled with either exultation or despair. Mikael could not and did not want to realize what had happened to him, and therefore he allowed his mind to drown in a boiling whirlpool of feelings.

The night was retreating, hiding from Mikael behind the corners of buildings, watching him from alleys. Completely ill, tormented, he entered his empty house when the night had already disappeared from the city without a trace.


The weight of black sleep pressed the body into the bed. With an effort, Mikael sat up. His gaze habitually found the dial - he slept for two hours and four minutes.

In an attempt to drive the aches out of his body and the pain out of his head, he took a shower. The reflection in the mirror looked at him attentively. Sunken cheeks, small wrinkles around the eyes. What did Mikael know about this man? He is thirty three. He is alone. So it was necessary. The man in the glass looked, asking. And Mikael mentally answered:

- Yes, a lot is left overboard. But I went for it voluntarily. And I will not back down from my oath!

The image of Dilin appeared before him again and again. Her appearance on stage last night startled him. How many times has he looked at that pretty face in a black and white photograph...

He needs to see the girl, talk to her, get to know her. You need to figure everything out. Yes, there are many questions. And they need to be asked.

The old man's pride, Dilin's consent to dance in the brothel became clear to him. They apparently had a common goal. The place was chosen specifically so that not only the whimsical, wayward public would get to know Dilin. Mikael would now easily agree with Archibald. Everyone who saw Dilin's dance reacted sharply to this miracle. People, as if waking up from a dope, looked around in surprise. The men, ashamed of their behavior, awkwardly picked up the dishes, helping the waitresses. The girls were crying out loud. One of the peddlers threw down the tray and, wrapping herself in a jacket forgotten by someone, went to the exit. Yes, people have changed. The old man was right.

Coming out into the street, Mikael noted with amazement that the city shimmered with bright colors. The fogs dissipated. Autumn seemed to be an alloy of gold and crimson. Causeless joy seethed in my heart. Mikael walked, inhaling the delicious coolness, and smiled. He did not know where to look for the girl and the old man. And that's why I decided to go back to the beginning.

The sun has torn off the night gloss from the cabaret. The stone walls, covered, like a web, with a network of cracks, frowned at the life around. Here and there, scraps of paper, cigarette butts, broken bottles sparkled on the crumpled asphalt.

The doors were locked. Looking at his watch, Mikael chuckled. Only nine in the morning. He walked around the building. Several men were standing at the service entrance.

One of them attracted attention simply because he looked unhappy. Others were tormented by anticipation or filled with gratitude. On the face of the young man lived only suffering. Blue eyes burned. Lips compressed. The facial features are pointed, the skin is yellowish.

“Insomnia. Nervous exhaustion. Perhaps the liver is clogged, ”Mikael habitually noted. Surrendering to intuition, he went to this man and introduced himself.

- Martin Singrate, - the guy shook his head in the direction of the cabaret, - Do you hope to see Dilin?

- Yes.

- It won't work. He is devilishly clever, deftly hiding it.

– Why are you here?

"Today is her last performance." - The last performance - and they may not let you in, at least beg. This is his condition. He chooses the lucky ones himself. And don't get inside.

Mikael realized this after looking around the building. Luxurious Legs was a fortress that could not be taken without a fight. The three-story building is lined with stone. There are bars on the windows, two doors - an oak front door and an iron service one - are probably guarded by the gloomy children of Madame Joubert.

- Why are you here? Mikael repeated the question.

– I’m trying to track down Dilin, – the guy swallowed, – I’m trying to be in time everywhere. I rush between his shop and the cabaret. The one that leaves with him is different. I know. Bastard! The guy clenched his fists.

- Why don't you ask the old man himself?

- Do you think I didn't try? I saw them first when both, still unknown to anyone, appeared in the city. First I watched. For her. I have never met such eyes in anyone. I went. The old man immediately put her in a taxi. I wanted to stop him, explain how I feel.

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