tango and urban women

Even though the town in which I live (Salem, OR) is considered part of the Portland Metropolitan Area for census purposes, Salem really isn't a city. It has a downtown, to be sure, and several malls sprinkled around its environs, but it doesn't have either the cultural, gastronomic, intellectual, or entertainment fare that I would say characterizes a modern American city. I have spent much of my time in this town in the past decade, despite having litigated for Oregon's largest law firm in Portland for three years in the middle of that time. Yet, I occasionally venture out to Portland, of course, and draw inferences about "modern" culture when I am there. Last weekend I had the chance to make observations from a rather unique perch--a tango class in Portland's inner East Side. Because I spent my time that evening dancing with about 10 different women, I not only learned some new things about dancing and people but saw a consistent pattern in a number of the women which arrested my attention. In short, this "modern" American urban woman is energetic, passionate, optimistic and scared. It is this last emotion I would like to explore in this essay.

What Kind of Fear?

The kind of fear I refer to in the previous paragraph has little to do with the fear of personal safety. Certainly everyone who lives in a city is aware of potential dangers that lurk; you, therefore, make smart choices about where you go at which times and make sure that you are with friends at other times. But the fear which I am referring to here has to do with a fear of being thought ignorant, or a fear of not knowing what you are doing. Though I am not a tango star, by any means, I found in woman after woman with whom I danced that they wanted to get right to the "sophisticated" moves without first making sure that as dance partners we knew how to do the most basic thing--like walk with each other. Not being the quickest guy in the world to pick up signals from women, I danced with about three or four partners before I realized what was happening. Then, with each subsequent partner I decided that the best thing we could do together was just walk. I think they were disappointed in me.

I think the pressures of urban living produce the need to give the impression that one is a sophisticated, competent and fun-loving person. In addition, the nature of American culture now is to give the impression that one is "on top of" everything one is learning. We have learned that creating the illusion of competence and skill is what gives others a sense of security about things. Thus, since urban people are supposed to be sophisticated and correct in what they are doing, why not give that impression?

The teachers for the evening were a trim and sexy Latino couple from San Francisco, and they oozed confidence and sensuality on the floor. Who wouldn't think that you needed to try to imitate their serpentine moves and cheek-to-cheek glides that seemed effortlessly to gobble up the floor? So, I first tried the "close embrace" with a number of women. Tango can be done either in close or loose embrace, and when you do the former, you are supposed to "lean" toward each other, be cheek to cheek, and then "do the moves." Well, the first few I went "cheek to cheek" with were in fact leaning on me. Since one of them was a bit overweight, I could hardly make a step without feeling that I was trying to move a dead weight as well as my own feet and body. In short, I decided that I really couldn't do a "close embrace" because I would really be almost unable to move myself.

The host teachers asked the group several times if we had any questions. Since I was a "guest" on this occasion, I didn't feel I should start asking questions about walking and the most basic tango steps--it would be too obvious that I was "criticizing" my partners. In addition, I am a firm believer in the philosophy, spelled out in this essay, that only the man can make a mistake in tango. If the woman appears to do so, it is just an invitation to the man to respond to her in a way that makes her moves "fit" into the overall dance. So that left me confused, and led to my spending the last 30 minutes of the class "walking" with various partners. It was the best I felt I could do.

The Fear

Returning, then, to the fear. I think the pressure is on urban women these days (and probably men, too) to appear to know what is going on so that no one else can think that they don't know what they are doing. And who gives the impression that it is bad to show weakness or your inadequacy or lack of knowledge? Men, in general. Men usually think that a demonstration of lack of knowledge is one step above being convicted for being an abuser of children. Women pick up on that from men, and thus the pressure is on everyone not to say that they don't know what they are doing.

One of the most liberating experiences in life is the realization that you go to bed each night and wake up in the morning with no knowledge. You have to, as it were, reclaim knowledge each day as you go through your activities. Thus, to admit lack of knowledge of tango is actually good practice for admitting our general ignorance about phenomena. It is the best place to be when you are learning something new...

1911