It’s Thursday night at the Carver Community Center in Texas City, and the gym floor is alive with shuffling feet. Thirty women in matching “Dem Girls” T-shirts sway and spin in rows, hips gliding to the beat. When a stranger stumbles, a dancer waves her over with a smile: “Follow me.” Here, everyone belongs on the dance floor.

Line dancing has long pulsed at the heart of Black celebrations—at cookouts, weddings, and family reunions where the Wobble and Cupid Shuffle are nonnegotiable. But in Houston and across the South, this communal choreography has stretched beyond living rooms and banquet halls. Fused with country-western roots and amplified by social media, line dancing today is more than a pastime: It’s exercise, expression, and a culture of joy that connects thousands of Houstonians almost daily.

Dance scholar Thomas DeFrantz, a professor in the Performance Studies and Theatre Departments at Northwestern University, says line dancing’s roots are layered and complex. The practice draws from pagan communal dances from Europe and African group traditions brought across the Atlantic and reshaped by enslaved Africans—a foundation that’s fueled countless American dance styles. Traces show up everywhere: in New Orleans second lines, ’70s disco and hustle moves, even Texas honky-tonks. Viral hits like 803Fresh’s “Boots on the Ground” (17 million YouTube views and counting) and Beyoncé’s 2019 cover of “Before I Let Go” have only widened its reach. 

“We love line dancing because we can all do some version of it,” he says. He notes its novel blend of unity and individuality. The choreography offers structure, but each dancer brings their own flourish—a dip, a turn, a subtle extra beat. “It’s a funny kind of tension,” DeFrantz says. “We want it to be the dance, but we also want it to be unique.”

Why this phenomenon is surging now is harder to pin down. DeFrantz attributes some of it to Beyoncé’s Carter album, as well as the recent resurgence of country-western music and cowboy culture, both of which are deeply indebted to African American traditions. “Popular culture, in the United States context at least, moves in really unexpected and unpredictable ways,” he adds. “I mean, there’s no reason for the Madison to have been such a hit as a line dance in the 1950s, but sometimes things just get their timing right.” In a politically charged environment, he adds, line dancing is “the escape we need.”

“Anything we can share that could make many of us feel better with our bodies, we’ve got to cherish that and value that and celebrate that,” DeFrantz says, and he doesn’t see this dance form going anywhere anytime soon.

Few cities embody the evolution and importance of line dancing traditions like Houston, where it thrives in recreation centers, in restaurants, on trail rides, and at the rodeo. The choreography also does not discriminate. A quick search on YouTube or the online database Urban Soul Line Dance Connection reveals routines for every tune, from rap and jazz to country and R&B.

“If the music is good, there’s a dance for it. There’s a line dance to everything,” says line dance instructor Clevetta R. Young. There are also different styles, with soul line dancing—more of Young’s speed—incorporating smoother footwork and cha-chas, while the ever-popular trail rider line dances feature more taps and higher steps to navigate grassy or dirt-covered grounds and fields. New dances are emerging every day, which can be challenging for even the most devoted dancers. “It takes time to learn it and then teach it to the students,” Young says.

She started line dancing 14 years ago when she stumbled into a class after a different dance course. “I just fell in love,” Young says. It was a great way to get some movement, particularly for Young, then a self-described “couch potato.” She quickly progressed from a beginner helping others in the back of classes to teaching her own free sessions at a local recreation center, driven by her conviction that this movement should be accessible to everyone. “I don’t care if you don’t have any money. You can still come out and have a great time,” Young says. Eight years ago, she coordinated a line dancing event at the Houston Livestock Show & Rodeo’s annual Black Heritage Day, which, in 2025, welcomed around 500 people.

Today, Young’s Facebook group, Houston Soul Line Dancers, is one of the most popular line dancing resources in the region, connecting dance enthusiasts with new choreography and more than 60 instructors who host classes nearly every day of the week. The group has amassed over 15,000 members, and interest appears to be growing. “Everybody is becoming an instructor now,” she says with a laugh, but she insists that those new to line dancing don’t have to have any experience to get started. “Anybody can go to class to learn,” she says. “Some people come in and say, ‘I just have two right feet,’ and I say, ‘Girl, I know somebody with two left feet. We got you!’”

The benefits go far beyond the feeling of achievement that comes with mastering a routine. Young says she’s seen her own health and blood pressure improve since she started line dancing. The women of Dem Girls even wear shirts declaring, “I don’t need therapy, I just need to line dance,” a testament to how movement and dance can contribute to a sense of well-being. Young says that line dancing, an art form that involves remembering counts and steps, can be helpful for improving memory. “It’s a very low-impact way to get the heart rate up and down while enjoying yourself and the health benefits,” Young says.

For Crystal Mullen, a longtime member of Dem Girls, the group is “a sisterhood, kind of like a sorority.”

“We just enjoy one another’s company,” she says.

Every third Thursday, Dem Girls meet up with other line dancing crews at a restaurant and turn it into their stage. “We just dance, and people come in and buy food and sit and watch us,” Mullen says. “It’s a lot of fun.”

The crew also travels together to conferences dedicated to line dancing. Most recently, they traveled to Shreveport, Louisiana, where they spent three days learning new moves while dancing alongside other troupes from around the country. Mullen says she met line dancers from China, Mexico, and Africa. Learning how far the movement has spread, “It blew my mind,” Mullen says. They’d spend mornings together in breakout sessions with different instructors, and in the evenings, they were back on the dance floor.

This lively stepping has drawn in newcomers for all different reasons. Some want to learn to perfect the newest moves, especially these days, when Young says no one is dancing unless it’s a line dance: “They want to be a part of that.” But often, it’s about the camaraderie. “I learned a lot of different people go to line dancing classes to get out of the house,” she says. There are empty nesters, people mourning the loss of loved ones and looking to escape the quiet of their homes, and others in search of a way to boost their health. The stories dancers have shared are what have inspired Young to keep teaching.

“My main objective is to get these people moving, get them going, and to just start enjoying line dancing,” Young says. The key is to not get discouraged. Memorizing the steps takes time, so ask questions, feel the music, and keep moving. “There are no line dancing police. You’re not gonna get a ticket,” she says with a laugh. “You’re out there. You’re trying. Keep at it.”