I spent my Tuesday afternoon huddled shoulder to shoulder in a circle with people I’d never met before, the vibrant beat of rural Samba dancing around us, a synchronous motion of rhythmic clapping dancing through us, as we shared a camaraderie unique to that moment.

This is what Mestre Claudio, a prominent figure in the fight-dance-game Capoeira Angola, gave us at his lecture “Afro-Brazilian Music and Dance of Backlands Bahia.” The talk began in a comfortable, informal setting, the diameter of our circle widening as an unexpected number of people filled in. It was a pleasant surprise as we glanced around the room to witness such interest in this topic. After watching some short videos of the art form, we listened to Mestre Claudio talk about his life and his interest in the cultural expression that he values so dearly. Ethnomusicology professor Dr. Esther Kurtz performed the role of our translator, and as I sat in the audience, I felt like I was nearly submerged into an interactive documentary.

Mestre Claudio shared with us his accidental stumble into the world of Samba de Roda in an encounter with a small paper poster. His boyish stubbornness propelled him to consistently choose dance over school, sparking doubt from his employer at the time. I remember his look of absolute conviction as he told us that though he may have never received a formal education, this art form has given him more than he would have ever attained elsewhere. To him, Capoeira Angola was not just a creative outlet, but a necessity.

The dance has played a critical role of representation in Afro-Brazilian politics. His lecture reverberated with the interconnected nature of music and social change; the power of Capoeira to create a more Afro-centric mindset. It is more than a recreational activity. Capoeira is a movement that weaves together a story of issues ranging from socio-economic status to racism to gender roles.

I found Mestre Claudio to be a fascinating personality. The ease and candor with which he spoke caught us all in a rapture even before translation. He talked about his impoverished background, the hardships he and his community have faced and the role Capoeira has played in the tapestry of his life. He exuded passion and confidence—simply listening to him talk in such an animated fashion about Samba was entertaining and inspiring in itself. In moments of enthusiasm, he bolted up from his chair and walked into the middle of the circle, bouncing with his words, driven with emotion.

The last 15 minutes brought us all to our feet as Mestre Claudio instructed us on how to participate in the fight-dance-game. The most striking aspect was that for the first few minutes he taught us the beat and our cues in Portuguese. Miraculously, we were all able to follow his facial expressions and actions to learn exactly what he intended to teach.

Being in the space, I was a witness to the profound truth that resonates from our ingrained biological inclination towards music—rhythm and movement runs in our blood. Dance and music provide us with more than the realization that we are all linked through a mystical connection. They give a voice to those who need it. They foster a sense of community and it provide marginalized groups with a means of representation. Dance and music is a powerful tool ingrained in our systems that, if wielded correctly, can draw a group of strangers into a huddle in a classroom or transform into a relentless revolt against discrimination.