I cry at this for the same reason I cry at parades: it's a communion of feeling in physical form. Of course that's the same kind of reactive sentimentality that's often exploited by fascists and idiots, so I unleash it only for small-town marching bands and synchronized dancers in tight colorful pants. In this case I say yes to the dance and yes to the pants and yes to the spirt of people who will move us forward.
From the Washington Post:
She put the word out on Instagram and Facebook seeking dancers. She videotaped herself dancing the steps, and texted it to the dancers who’d replied. Many are professionals. A few came from Broadway’s “Fiddler on the Roof” and the Martha Graham Dance Company. Some came from as far away as Toronto. Assorted “dance enthusiasts” joined in–dentists, other artists and little girls fresh from soccer practice.