The below passages are the intellectual property of Rebecca Kulik.

G9 Informational Passage. English Language Arts.

The year was 1518, and the place was Strausborg, Germany. A woman named FrauToffea stepped into the town square and, for no reason, began to dance. She did not stop dancing for the next six days and nights.

By that time, Frau Toffea was not the only dancer in Strausborg. Dozens of other men and women had joined her. They did not stop to eat, drink, or rest. Some danced only for a few hours, but others danced for days on end. Sometimes a dancer would collapse with exhaustion, then go right back to dancing when they woke up.

This was the dancing plague of 1518. People at the time called it “choreomania” or “St. Vitus’ dance.” They thought it was a kind of illness. Strausborg was not the only town affected: several other towns in Europe dealt with the dancing plague in those years. But Strausborg had the largest outbreak, with hundreds of people dancing through its streets at its height.

At first, the town leaders thought that the “illness” was caused by the dancer’s blood. In those days, people believed that blood could sometimes become overheated, and needed to be cooled down. They believed that the best way to cool the blood would be for the dancers to keep moving. That way, their bodies would use up the heat inside them.

By this logic, all the town had to do was wait until the choreomania passed. The authorities even put a covering over the town square and hired a band! But the number of dancers kept growing, and people kept dancing, collapsing, and being injured.

After weeks of this, the authorities decided that the problem was to do with religion. They thought something evil was affecting the dancers. They performed a special ceremony, and this actually worked! The dancers were able to stop and return home. Choreomania, everyone agreed, had obviously been caused by evil spirits.

Unsurprisingly, experts today do not think evil spirits or hot blood caused the dancing plague. However, something strange was clearly happening in Strausborg. There were hundreds of dancers, and most were normal people before they danced. When they stopped dancing, they went back to their ordinary lives. They cannot all have had the same mental illness, and it does not make sense that they were all pretending.

Most experts today think that the dancing plague happened because of extreme stress. A lot of modern studies have proven that people can believe very strange things when they are very scared and stressed. Living in Strausborg in 1518 meant living in constant fear of famine, plague, and war. When the Strausborg citizens were dancing, they weren’t worrying about the terrible events that were happening in the world around them. They didn’t have to think about whether they would have enough food to survive the winter, or if soldiers would attack. All they had to do was dance.

These are interesting theories, but it has been hundreds of years since the last outbreak of choreomania. Experts can look for clues in writing and images from the time, but they cannot actually test anyone with the “disease.” The truth is, we’ll probably never know the real cause of the dancing plague.

G4 Literary Passage. Written for English Language Learners.

Jamal wiped his sweaty hands on his trousers and tried to pay attention. The teacher was holding up a set of reins, showing everyone the long cords. She explained to the group that it was just like a rope, and all they had to do was pull to get the horse to move.

Jamal leaned back against the wall of the barn, trying to hide behind the other kids. Everything smelled like horse in this place! He never asked to come here. Why had his mother insisted? How would learning to ride a horse help him feel braver?

And then suddenly, everyone was moving. The teacher had a list of names and was calling them one by one. When a student’s name was called, a helper met them and led them to the stall their horse was waiting in.

“Jamal!”

Jamal stepped forward slowly. A tall girl smiled at him and led him towards the horses. Jamal shoved his hands deep in his pockets and tried not to think about how fast his heart was beating as he followed the helper.

“You’re going to be riding Bucky today,” the girl said.

Jamal snorted, surprising himself. “That’s a funny name!”

The girl grinned. “He’s a funny horse.”

Jamal swallowed hard. What did she mean?

The girl pushed open the stall door. Inside, Jamal saw a small room with a tub of water in the corner. There was a horse standing in the stall, looking at them.

Jamal held very still. He didn’t step back, but he wanted to.

The horse moved forward, towards the helper. He was staring at her very, very closely.

Jamal almost screamed when Bucky bumped his head into the girl.

The girl laughed, and reached her hands up to Bucky’s face. She started scratching his chin.

“He’ll do anything for a good scratch,” she said, rubbing her hands hard on the horse’s face. She looked at Jamal. “Come over and say hello!”

Jamal took a deep breath. He stood up straight.

Finally, he slowly stepped forward and scratched Bucky’s chin.

The horse leaned into him. Bucky was acting exactly like Jamal’s dog!

Jamal felt himself start smiling.

The helper offered him the reins. “Are you ready?” she asked.

Still scratching Bucky’s chin, Jamal took the reins in his other hand. “Definitely!”

G6 Literary Passage. Written for English Language Arts.

Batu jumped out of her family’s camper van, then paused to tighten the belt of her long deel wrap.

“I’m heading out, Dad!” she called, and her father ambled over from the other side of their camper van.

He smiled at her proudly. “Your group competes at 3 o’clock, yes?” he asked, and Batu nodded. “I’ll be there! Good luck!”

Batu grinned at him and and headed off, hurrying between vans and tents toward the festival. If she didn’t rush, she’d be late for her round of judging!

The goal of a Mongolian archery competition was to hit as many hasaa (small leather cylinders) as possible, with some being harder to hit than others. Someone had to count the number of hits, and that was the job of the competitors who had nothing else to do. Some people complained, but running around the field always kept Batu from getting nervous about her own competition, so she enjoyed it. Even in the blistering heat of the Mongolian summer, she couldn’t wait to get started.

As she neared the archery ground, she spotted a familiar figure. “Arban!” she shouted, making the other girl turn and wave. Her big traditional hat immediately fell over her face. Batu laughed as she walked up to the other girl, helping her move the hat back where it belonged.

“My mother got this for me,” complained Arban as they walked together. “She said I’ll grow into it. If it messes up my shots…”

“It’ll be fine,” soothed Batu. “At least they got you a deel that fits, so you won’t trip over your skirt!”

“I don’t understand why we have to wear the traditional costumes,” muttered Arban.

Batu smiled at her as they reached the archery field. “That’s part of the fun—anyway, our ancestors wore this chasing down sheep and hunting wolves, we’ll survive a few hours!”

Arban sighed and nodded, and she and Batu took up their spots to judge the younger archers.

As soon as the bows went silent and the referee gave the all clear, Batu and the other members of her age group scattered across the field, each running for a patch of prickly hasaa. Batu beamed when she found the first arrow sticking out of a sneaky little red hasaa: she turned, raised her hands, and shouted “Uukhai!” The crowd went wild, and the archer’s friends slapped his back in congratulations.

Before long, it was time for Batu’s and Arban’s round. Batu took up her position in the line of archers and ran her hand over her bow. As she had expected on a hot day like this, the wood bent easily in her hands. She notched an arrow and pulled the string back, feeling the wind and moving her body in response.

She set her eyes on a distant red speck. And for a moment, everything fell away—her friends beside her, her parents in the stands, the sounds of the festival. She could have been one of her ancestors, looking out over the endless green hills, standing tall and taking aim.