The First Class Nearly Broke Me
I signed up for Irish dance because I saw a Riverdance clip on YouTube and thought, "I can do that." I could not do that. My first class was in a community center basement with fluorescent lighting and about fifteen other adults who all seemed to know each other. The instructor clapped out a rhythm. Everyone moved. I stood there like a fence post.
Here's what nobody tells you about Irish dance: the upper body stays frozen while your legs do things that shouldn't be anatomically possible. My brain kept trying to move my arms. The instructor kept shouting "Arms down!" I lasted two weeks before I stopped going.
Three months later, I went back. Why? Because I couldn't get the rhythm out of my head. That's the thing about this dance form—it gets under your skin.
Soft Shoes vs. Hard Shoes (And Why It Matters)
You'll hear people talk about two styles. Soft shoes—called ghillies—are these black lace-up things that look like jazz shoes crossed with ballet slippers. They're for the floaty, bouncy stuff. Think light hops, skips, and movements that look deceptively simple until you try them.
Hard shoes are the noisy ones. Jig shoes. They've got fiberglass heels and tips that click against the floor. This is where the percussive magic happens—where your feet become a drum kit.
Most beginners start with soft shoe. Some schools throw you into hard shoe early because, honestly, the sound is addictive. You'll be terrible at first. That's fine. Everyone's terrible at first.
Three Moves That Actually Matter
Forget trying to memorize twenty steps on day one. You need three.
The hop is exactly what it sounds like—you jump on one foot while the other one points behind you. Sounds easy. Your balance will say otherwise. Practice this while brushing your teeth. Seriously.
The skip is a bouncy alternating step. Left, right, left, right. The trick is keeping your torso completely still while your legs bounce underneath you. It feels like patting your head and rubbing your stomach at the same time.
The reel step is where things get interesting. It combines hops, skips, and a move where you cross one foot over the other. When you see experienced dancers doing this at speed, it looks like their feet are typing something.
The Posture Problem Nobody Warns You About
My first teacher had this rule: stand against a wall, arms at your sides, and dance without losing contact with the wall. I thought she was joking. She was not.
Irish dance posture is rigid. Your arms stay glued to your sides. Your back is straight. You don't lean, sway, or use your upper body for momentum—all the power comes from below the waist. This is why Irish dancers have legs like sprinters and the upper body carriage of someone waiting for a bus.
It feels weird at first. You'll catch yourself flailing your arms and have to put them back. Give it a month. Your body adapts.
Finding a Teacher (The Right Way)
Not all dance schools teach Irish dance, and not all Irish dance schools teach it well. Here's what I learned the hard way.
Look for teachers certified through organizations like An Coimisiún le Rincí Gaelacha (CLRG) or WIDA. This isn't snobbery—these certifications mean the teacher has been evaluated and follows a standardized curriculum. Your local "we teach everything" dance studio probably doesn't have someone who actually knows Irish dance.
Ask if you can watch a class before signing up. A good teacher will say yes. Watch how they correct students. Are they specific ("lift your heel two inches") or vague ("do it better")? Big difference.
Some cities have none of this. If that's you, online classes have gotten genuinely good post-2020. Not perfect—you lose the floor vibration and the group energy—but functional.
Shoes: What to Buy and When
Don't buy shoes before your first class. Most schools have loaners or will tell you to wear socks. This is important because you don't know yet if you're a soft shoe person or a hard shoe person, and these shoes aren't cheap.
When you're ready, ghillies run about $30-50. Jig shoes are pricier—$60-120 depending on the brand. Rutherford and Antonio Pacelli are solid choices for beginners. Avoid the Amazon knockoffs. I bought a pair. The sole separated after three weeks.
The Music Is Half the Experience
Reels are fast. Jigs have a bouncy feel—think "da-da-DA, da-da-DA." Hornpipes swing. If you don't know what these sound like, pull up some Planxty, The Chieftains, or even just "Irish traditional music" on Spotify.
You don't need to become a musicologist. But listening regularly trains your ear to find the beat. And in Irish dance, hitting the beat precisely is the whole point. A step performed off-time looks sloppy. The same step nailed to the music looks electric.
What Actually Happens at a Feis
Once you've been dancing for a while, someone will mention a feis (pronounced "fash"). It's a competition. Multiple stages, different age groups, dancers in sparkly dresses and wigs. Yes, wigs. The competition scene has its own culture, and it's intense.
You don't have to compete. Plenty of people dance recreationally. But if you're curious, most feiseanna have beginner categories where you dance two steps and get adjudicated. It's terrifying and thrilling in equal measure.
Start Before You're Ready
You won't feel ready. You'll watch videos and think you need six more months of practice before you walk into a class. You don't.
I wasted three months overthinking it. The dancers I admire most started exactly where you are—awkward, off-balance, completely lost. The difference is they showed up anyway.
Find a class this week. Wear comfortable clothes. Bring water. And when the music starts and your feet don't cooperate, laugh about it. That's the beginning.
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