{image1}Let's get one thing straight: This is not like the "flagging" in your high school's drum 'n bugle corp. Instead, this type of flagging is an art form, spiritual release, exercise and lifestyle that's been popular in big cities for decades and finally caught on in Milwaukee.
Sura Faraj first saw someone flagging at Pridefest in 2002 and was completely mesmerized.
"I thought to myself, 'What is that? What is he doing?'" says Faraj, a Riverwest poet and activist.
Flagging -- also called flag dancing, spinning fabric and rag dancing -- is similar to fanning, fire spinning (called "poi") and baton twirling. It's set to music, usually something with a heavy beat and spiritual component, and the "flagger" twirls rectangular pieces of material -- with weights in the seams that are attached to poles -- in a graceful and complex way.
"Basically everyone starts with some sort of figure eight," says Faraj. "It's a lot of wrist action."
Faraj flags several times a day, and cleared her living room of furniture, except for a stereo and bookcase.
"That way I can keep my eyes closed and not worry about bumping into things," she says.
Cory Haywood has been flagging since 1997 and says many flaggers are shy people who view flagging as a very personal, spiritual practice. Others, he says, are the opposite, and love to flag in festivals and bars.
"I'm a 'show flagger,'" says Haywood. "Show flaggers like to get out and show off."
According to Faraj, there are few females who spin fabric. "Most of the people who flag are gay," she says. "And it's mostly gay men."
According to Scott Piel, arguably the mother of today's flagging culture, flagging/fanning began in the late '70s in New York at a club called 12 West. Others claimed to have first seen men dancing with paper fans in a San Francisco club called The Trocadero.
Because the paper flags fell apart easily, they were eventually constructed with fabric. Today, flags are made from many fabrics, including silk and lamé.
Fanning/flagging almost went half-mast in the late '80s and early '90s when AIDS consumed many of the flagging talents and kept most of the healthy flaggers inside their homes. But just before the art form became extinct, younger partygoers revived it, adding a spiritual component to the dance as a way to remember those who passed away from AIDS.
Both Haywood and Faraj find flagging to be an extremely spiritual experience.
"There's a lot more going on than what you see," says Haywood. "It's a subculture of people coming together to dance tribally, and every culture has some form of twirling, from the whirling Dervishes to Asian dancing to the Olympic flags."
{image2}"Flagging is my shutdown. My break. I'm fueling, moving, responding, pushing and being pushed," says Faraj.
Haywood says the best flagging takes place at circuit parties, which often have a color theme like the famous White Party in Palm Springs and Red Party in Chicago. Although Milwaukee is yet to have one of these parties, Haywood says Milwaukee flaggers sometimes convene on Sunday nights at the Downtown club, Three.
"Flagging is a strong underground movement of creative and spiritual people," says Haywood. "Personally, when I feel sad or depressed, I light some candles, put on a good song and flag my ass off. But I also do it when I'm really happy."
Molly Snyder started writing and publishing her work at the age 10, when her community newspaper printed her poem, "The Unicorn.” Since then, she's expanded beyond the subject of mythical creatures and written in many different mediums but, nearest and dearest to her heart, thousands of articles for OnMilwaukee.
Molly is a regular contributor to FOX6 News and numerous radio stations as well as the co-host of "Dandelions: A Podcast For Women.” She's received five Milwaukee Press Club Awards, served as the Pfister Narrator and is the Wisconsin State Fair’s Celebrity Cream Puff Eating Champion of 2019.
