The Politics of Salsa

The following was posted as a comment to another discussion thread - but it was so good it had to have it's own blog!

On April 1st, 2010 Anonymous says:

I am grateful that in salsa, unlike in many other social/recreational activities, we are not divided or judged by our race, education, or socioeconomic status; on the dance floor, people know you as a good dancer as long as you are one. At the same time, I also realize that in almost no other area of my life, my roles are so strictly determined by my gender as they are in salsa. Men lead; women follow. Most of us never question this rule. Once in a while, I hear the comment that I am a "good follower,” which is intended to be a compliment. I can't help but wonder what it takes to be a "good follower." Obedience? Submissiveness? Non-assertiveness? Obviously, none of the above is true in salsa. We’re not merely “following” – we are the picture, if the “leaders” serve as the frame. It takes hard work, determination and audacity to be a “good follower.”

However, we ARE following. If the “leader” does not understand or is unable to dance to the complicated rhythms of salsa music, we will be lost or unfairly subject to his awkwardness; if he is limited in his repertoire of movement patterns, we are not given many options but secretly hope the song is not too long, so as to be polite and not to make a scene. I wonder why in this day and age, when men are no longer stigmatized for taking care of babies and women can be breadwinners or executives, most of us salseros/as still limit ourselves to the ancient gender roles. Guys, do you really want to take the responsibility for finding and keeping the beat, if you’re actually a novice and don’t know very much about it? Besides, don’t you want to be the picture sometimes, instead of being the frame all the time?

Learning and practicing the opposite role makes one a better dancer, for so much of dancing, particularly social dancing, is about communication. A monologue is not a conversation; it satisfies neither the speaker nor the listener in most cases. Dance patterns, like conversations, consist of elements and are not to be memorized as a whole and executed mechanically, but to be modified and interpreted depending on the context and specific situation. Seeing things from a different perspective facilitates understanding and hence improves communication. Shall I say it makes you not only a better dancer, but also a better person in general?

I would like to practice leading but can only do so occasionally. I am not good at it for lack of opportunities to practice. There are difficulties: I am short; most women are shorter than most men. Then again, why do so many patterns require the leader’s hands to go over the follower’s head? Is it really necessary? It’s hard for short men, too; I’ve done lots of spins on bent knees when I dance with men shorter than I am. I hope some instructors can compile the patterns that allow the shorter partner to lead; I would do that myself if I were good at leading.

I used to go to the gay/lesbian salsa events in San Francisco and dance with other women; I was not required to disclose my sexual orientation. Now I’m in the Midwest and find it difficult to ask a same-sex person to dance. My request is considered a joke or met with shock and disbelief, even among the women with whom I have been friendly. I wonder why men, in contrast, can just come up and ask me to dance without first building rapport or even saying anything. Wouldn’t it be more fun if we all could choose whether to lead or to follow, instead of letting others assume what we are going to do? We can wear T-shirts, or bracelets, to indicate what we’d like to do and switch roles whenever we want to.