[Tango-L] Women and Classes

[TangoDC.com]

Deby (et al),

Thanks for your enlightening (and empirically based) post. I've found 
the same generalizations to be very true in casual settings as well as 
formal ones, whether as a teacher or an (unintentionally) eavesdropping 
student.

I'd be curious to learn what (solo) female teachers experience with 
female students in private lessons. Whether there's the same resistance 
to revision. Whether there's the same tendency of excuse-making prior to 
experiment. Whether there's the same apparent need for validation. I 
imagine the presence of a male teacher could bring these traits to the 
fore, but I simply don't know if they arise in the absence of one as 
well. When the veils are off, so to speak.

As for overdoing "classes" (etc.) ... I don't know if that's possible 
for either sex, so long as the individual is practicing and dancing as 
well. As a person committed to learning, I'd even say that sometimes 
classes, practice, and study Are the tango in its ideal form: milongas, 
with their annoying focus on personal pleasure, can sometimes seem 
inferior to them.

To go out on a limb, I'd even venture that Pleasure itself, and being 
hungry for it, is what ruins things as often as deficient musicality, a 
comatose DJ, or klutzy partners. I tell my students to have fun, sure. 
But I also tell them to make sure they Give their partner a dance, and 
to forgo the expectation of Getting one. Without exception, every great 
dance I've had was a moment of mutual generosity. Every shitty one was a 
moment of unsatisfied need. Every mediocre one has been a one-way exchange.

I think we often ignore this. On the list, anyway.

Sean earlier expressed a complaint about women who want to be taken care 
of. Lois seconded the complaint on a technical level. That's exactly the 
petty conceit I'm talking about.

Others have spoken about people running off to BA (or wherever) to find 
themselves adequate partners. That's as pettier as it is more expensive. 
And when there are people in your hometown who could be cultivated by 
your partnering them, it's also a big fat cop-out.

Teachers and organizers, for the most part, give a lot to their 
communities. They give good dances: they run events, often without 
making any money: they give up their free time (or other, more lucrative 
freelance opportunities) to teach private classes. I won't try to speak 
for everyone, but I will say that for some of us, money has passing 
little to do with it. Many of us give far more than we receive, because 
we're not out to receive anything: we're out to spread knowledge and 
help dancers improve. Men _and_ women.

If you, like Chris, UK, find many lessons to offer useless material, I 
can only conclude you haven't yet found the right application for the 
lesson. For my part, I've never seen a teacher present anything useless, 
only things that I hadn't developed a use for at that moment. When the 
right context appears, the lesson pops into mind of its own accord, and 
dances itself. Blaming a teacher for this taking its time is not going 
to make you grow any faster. Neither is weighing a lesson by the scales 
of your ego.

This thread began with an observation that women were not improving, 
after they reach a certain level of proficiency, while men continue 
making progress. It somehow got sidetracked into a discussion on the 
benefits and hazards (mostly the hazards) of learning to dance by 
working under a teacher. I don't think the initial observation is even 
remotely accurate, but that hardly matters by now. Perhaps it's my 
education talking, or perhaps it's my nature, but I've seldom worked 
under a teacher without working with and for other dancers. I continued 
going to classes which were well below (fanfare) "my level" just to see 
how things were taught, and to see how well I could help others drive 
the teaching into their bones. Likewise I've assisted at beginner's 
classes to help bring people up. These were among the best _learning_ 
experiences I've had, and they are what ultimately convinced me to 
accept my first teaching invitations, after rejecting several.

On that note, I encourage everyone to shut up about their own goddamn 
dance, and go make it happen for someone else. Hit a beginner's class, 
where almost no one knows you; don't say a word; just make it good for 
them. If you don't succeed, you have Not outgrown that class yet.

This should be obvious too (but, infuriatingly, isn't): If you are happy 
with your dance, count your happiness M a n u r e . Your happiness isn't 
worth a handful of mulch in the desert. Only your partner's is worth a 
damn. This bears repeating especially to women, who have learned this 
dance by hearing the opposite stated ad nauseam. "It's always the 
leader's fault." "The woman's comfort is what matters." Yeah? That's a 
sorry defense for the Gimme syndrome. Pick a dude you can't stand, and 
give him the best dance of your life. If you can't, or won't--

M a n u r e .

If you find yourself, man or woman, _blaming_ your partners, go to a 
beginner's class, where that excuse doesn't count. Learn there to _give_ 
a good dance. The odds are stacked in your favor. It ought to be nearly 
effortless, unless you're also a beginner.

I'm not talking about charity or pity dances either. I'm talking about 
the selflessness that underlies all teamwork. The playmaker attitude, 
not the all-star grin.

Followers who have trouble finding their voice in the dance, or who are 
under the impression that everything depends on their partner, might 
especially benefit from this particular more-than-an-exercise. I have no 
idea why so many women are convinced that, when they've reached a decent 
level of skill, only a good leader can help them really dance. A good 
leader can make Me dance, and I can barely follow at all (according to 
my standards, at least). If a woman is really something, she can shine 
in the arms of a novice, and raise him up a notch while she's at it. 
Vice versa for leaders.

All you need is an ounce of bohemian will. And to leave all this 
bureaucratic egocentric status bullshit where it belongs.

In the workplace.

Jake Spatz
Washington, DC