Breakdance crew heads to Canada’s capital for several breakthrough performances

Clyde River's breakdancing crew has a new name that's befitting of their wriggling contortions.

It's Angipasi, or sea slugs. An elder suggested the title for the group because some of their dance moves reminded him of spineless critters he's seen wriggling in the water.

The dancers, like sea slugs, appear to have no bones, especially while stomach-flopping across the floor with a move called The Worm.

Ten members of Angipasi are bound for Ottawa later this month, where they are to perform a number of shows, including June 21 at the Canadian Museum of Civilization for National Aboriginal Day.

The continuing existence of the breakdancing group is a small but significant success story for one of Nunavut's have-not communities where kids often have nothing better to do than idly wander the streets.

Since the autumn of 2006, about 20 residents, as young as six and as old as in their 30s, have met three times a week inside the community hall to listen to music and dance. Healthy snacks are provided.

Since the start of the dance group, fewer kids are turning to huffing gasoline or smoking marijuana, residents have reported.

The group sprung up after a visit to Clyde River by the Canadian Floor Masters, an Ottawa-based group led by Stephan Leafloor, who is better known by his hip-hop nick-name, Buhhda.

Leafloor is a social worker who uses the language of hip-hop, and some flashy dance moves, to connect with otherwise hard-to-reach kids. He's now visited eight communities in Nunavut and Nunavik.

It doesn't always stick, but it has in Clyde River.

One reason is Meeka Paniloo, who, since September 2007, has held a paid job to help organize the hip-hop gatherings, although she says she'd do the work for free. She's encouraged by self-esteem boost she sees in kids.

"I'm a drop-out, and I used to do a lot of the bad stuff they're doing now. And I was a teen mother. I don't want them to do what I did when I was a kid," she said.

Another reason is the support of elders, who have, in past occasions, come out to try scratching records. In other communities elders, at times, worry that baggy jeans, rap music, graffiti and other symbols of hip-hop may represent the death of traditional culture.

Not in Clyde. Elders see the hip-hop gatherings as a positive development. And they're helping youth weave traditional culture into their dance moves.

Angipasi's choreographed performance includes Inuit games, throat singing and drum dancing, combined with traditional hip-hop performances, such as back-spins and beat-boxing.

Paniloo, herself, has only recently begun to learn to throat sing. Her singing partner is 13.

"It really makes me happy to see kids learning their culture," Paniloo said.

Her big wish is that other Nunavut communities follow Clyde River's lead in forming similar breakdancing groups. She thinks it would make a big difference, and pull many more bored kids off the streets.