Blog - GO Latin Dance

Music As Food for Dancers

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June 30, 2016

Over the last year or two, I’ve been focusing on getting more satisfaction out of my dancing. I used to have nights when I came home deflated, because things just weren’t clicking. Then I’d have other nights, when I felt like I was completely in the zone, and everything just flowed. In an attempt to have more nights dancing in the zone, I began reflecting on the cause of my differing experiences. What I realised is that, more often than not, the common denominator for me is the music. This might sound obvious when explicitly stated, but music matters a great deal to me as a dancer, and other dancers I speak to feel the same way.

After I had this realisation, I made a conscious choice to seek out great music, and attend socials where the DJs are committed to playing great music. I realise that some people just dance to socialise and have fun on the dance floor, and that the music being played is not all that important to these people. I am not saying that there is anything wrong with that, and I admit that when I started my dancing journey, I had a similar attitude towards the music. The music functioned as my cover, my camouflage, background noise to legitimise my random movements, and make them socially acceptable. At some point though, this changed. The music became my inspiration, my reason to dance. I stopped using the music as a tool, a shield. That is, I stopped using the music, and started to allow the music use to me.

This article is mainly for dancers who have already developed a strong relationship with music, or dancers who are just starting to explore the universe of music, and how it relates to dancing. My dancing turned a corner, and became vastly more interesting and fulfilling, once I established a relationship with the music. This is another way of saying a strong connection to the music. As I dancer, I am moving to music, but it is more than that. Aerobics is movement to music. Zumba is movement to music. Dance Dance Revolution (from Konami entertainment) is movement to music. To me, what makes dancing different from these things is meaning. Dancing has emotion, ideas, and culture, and I can access all of these via music. It seems that, the more my relationship with the music grows, the more rewarding dancing becomes.

When I was in high school, and in my early 20’s, I was depressed. Part of the problem was that I was hanging out with the wrong people. I was not managing my relationships well. I was spending too much time in the company of people with toxic tendencies and questionable character. You could say that my life had become a product of my relationships. It took some time to figure this out, and to take action, but once I did, the quality of my life increased dramatically. It occurred to me I can apply that the same idea music. If I want my dance experiences to be profound and fulfilling, and to nurture my soul, then I need to manage my musical relationships. I want to spend the majority of time listening to, and dancing to great music, by great artists.

So what is great music? Music is art. So this is a highly subjective question to contemplate, and there are many people much more qualified than I to critique music. However, can we all just agree that there’s a difference between:

“Can you blow my whistle baby, whistle baby?
Let me know.
Girl, I’ma show you how to do it and we start real slow.
You just put your lips together and you come real close.
Can you blow my whistle baby, whistle baby?
Here we go…”

And

“There’s a lady who’s sure all that glitters is gold,
And she’s buying a stairway to heaven.
When she gets there she knows, if the stores are all closed,
With a word she can get what she came for.
And she’s buying a stairway to heaven…”

Lyrically, musically, conceptually, artistically, can we all just agree, right now, that one of these songs represents great music and the other does not? I’ll let you figure out which is which. No offence is intended to Tramar Lacel Dillard.

Another way you could think of this is as music as food for dancers. As dancers, we consume music, and this music, hopefully, nourishes us, and allows us to be healthy and grow as dancers. If you are not enjoying your dancing as much as you feel you should, perhaps it is worth reflecting on your musical diet. Are you regularly consuming great music, by great artists, and great musicians who are expressing profound emotions and thoughts (preferably through a high fidelity sound reproduction device)? Or, do you mainly listen to Spotify remixes by some unknown DJ, sampling some forgettable track from this year’s “Bangin’ Beats of Summer” (through your shitty $10 laptop head phones)? Are you getting enough variety in your musical diet, or do you keeping eating the same “meat and potatoes” over and over again, and then wondering why you feel creatively stifled?

If music is food for dancers, and we are what we eat, and we are mainly eating junk food, our dancing is probably going to be a reflection of that, junk! I’m not saying it’s wrong to listen to certain types of music, or artists, but I encourage you to be conscious of what you’re listening to, and, if you’re a dance teacher, to be conscious of what music you are introducing students to. I encourage you to spend more time listening to, and dancing to, music of substance, and to keep that sugary pop music as a sometimes food, and see what difference it makes to your dancing.

Why Do Events Cost What They Do – And Are They Worth It?

Rachel Cassandra

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June 27, 2016

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Why Do Events Cost What They Do – And Are They Worth It?

A full pass to the DC Bachata Congress is $199, but at the New York Salsa Congress it’s $299. In London or Oxford a salsa lesson and social is around £7 but with a live band it bumps up to £10. in Bordeaux you can get 3 hours of workshop with Felicien and Isabelle plus a kizomba party with pro DJ for 25€, but in Dublin you pay 30€ for only 2 hours with them plus a normal party.

Even if you’ve been dancing for a while, it can be difficult to understand the variation in pricing. Let’s run through some of the constraints that all organizers have to consider when pricing their events, and how it affects you.

Venue

For most events, the cost of the venue is the largest part of the budget. It’s not always easy to find a space that has a danceable floor, will rent to you at a convenient time, and is the right size for your event. Different cities or even neighborhoods have wildly different rental costs. For my weekend kizomba workshops, I have paid anywhere from $20 to $150 an hour for a studio. For a blues weekend event I helped with, it took months to scout a Saturday night venue that wouldn’t charge us thousands of dollars. Obviously in large cities, space is at a premium, but rental cost can also be high in smaller towns that have few event venues. In the town you live in, you’ll soon get a sense for what a normal baseline price is, but when you’re traveling you will want to consider this before dismissing an event as unreasonably priced.

Instructor Time

There is a huge price range when it comes to hiring different instructors. I wish I could tell you it was based on competence, so that a more expensive event always meant better teaching! In reality, it’s a combination of factors: whether the instructor depends on dance for their livelihood, how popular they are on YouTube, whether the organizer has a personal relationship with them, how long they’ve been teaching, and so on. For many events, having certain instructors is the whole point, and so the pricing will have to be built around the instructor’s fees.

You also have to look at how many instructors and how many concurrent class times are going to be offered at the event. Logically, more instructors costs more money and is a better opportunity for you. However, upon investigating the schedule of a large event you may find that certain instructors will teach on just one day of the weekend or only at a certain level.

Instructor Travel

This one tends to be a little more straightforward. The longer (if not the farther) the instructor has to travel, the more expensive it’s going to be. Events advertising international instructors will tend to be more expensive. That said, many organizers cleverly list their instructors’ place of origin rather than their current dwelling to make you feel that you are paying for a special opportunity.

DJ or Band Costs

A general rule is that a live band costs more than a DJ, a large band costs more than a small one, and a pro DJ costs more than an amateur. For some events, there may also be travel costs associated with bringing the music. As with instructors, the renown of these musical professionals will also make a difference in price.

Equipment Hire

There may be other assorted costs when organizing an event: sound systems, wood floors for carpeted hotel venues, cameras and other recording equipment, printing costs, etc. While you may not be able to guess at them before attending, they can add significantly to the costs organizers need to cover.

Pricing of Other Events

Particularly with party nights or one-day workshops, it’s important for organizers to price competitively so that they keep their local attendance. Sometimes in larger scenes that results in events costs being pretty low, because promoters start undercutting each other in an attempt to win people. Larger events can vary more from their competitors particularly since they may have quite different expenses, but if they aren’t offering a unique experience, dancers may choose other events for their travel plans.

Expected Attendance

Assuming the event just needs to break even, the price of a ticket would be the total of all the expenses divided by the number of people coming. In scenes where organizers can expect a lot of people to come out, prices can be much lower. This is also one of the reasons that large events with pre-registration may only announce price hikes one deadline at a time. Based on the number of people that register in each tier, the organizers can calculate how much they must charge in order to make their money back.

Profit

Did you know that some dance events are organized by non-profit organizations? It’s quite common in the world of lindy hop and blues dancing, but there are also Latin events like the Grand Canyon Salsa Festival which seek only to cover their costs. It’s rather more the exception than the rule. Still, many promoters have a philosophy of making things as affordable as they can for the dancers in their scene. They aim to run at just enough profit that they have a buffer against lower attendance or unexpected expenses. There are also a fair few organizers seek to make a large profit from their events. Considering the amount of work that goes into them, though, it makes sense that some organizers would want to get some return on all the time and effort they invest.

So, is this event worth it?

What are you as a dancer to make of all this? If you live in a place that doesn’t have too many dance events in your preferred style, it’s likely you’ll attend them regardless of how competitively they are priced. If, on the other hand, you have many to choose from, or if you’re trying to decide among several festivals you might choose to fly to, cost is probably not the only factor you’re thinking about. Here are some thoughts from your fellow dancers on how to decide if an event is worth the cost of attending.

Music

“The music. It always comes down to the music. If I can get a decent fix of blues music at a blues dance exchange, I’ll do the dance exchange. […] I’d rather dance on my own to great music at a festival with no other blues dancers than be grumpy at a blues exchange that doesn’t schedule enough blues music,” says Ruth in Melbourne.
Some of you love to dance while a band plays, some want to hear the DJ live mixing, and some would rather dance to old favorites in the versions they know. Many of you need to have certain genres well represented (Dominican bachata, urban kizomba, salsa romantica…) or you won’t show up. Music is the foundation and inspiration of our dancing, after all!

Instructors and Classes

“With expensive events the consideration is also what classes are being offered and will I actually gain something by attending,” says Nina in Sydney.

If your main reason for attending an event is to learn something new and improve your dancing, the most important place to check is the event schedule. I have opted not to attend an event simply because there was no schedule or list of class offerings, even just two weeks before the event. I agree that it’s important to know what you might gain before shelling out for a pass.

Who Else is Coming

Richard in Boston says, “I tend to go to events that I think my friends and/or classmates would probably attend, and whether there’s live music.”
Ravi in Wellington, NZ shares, “If I know there are some amazing dancers and I know I will treasure that moment forever then it is an amazing party to go to. In some way I can ignore everything else but the beat and it gives meaning and purpose to my existence,”
This is why Facebook has lists you can look at in events for “Attending” “Interested” and “Not Going,” right? We all want to go where the party will be good and we can enjoy time with our friends.

Event Culture

When I say event culture, I mean the values and attitude encouraged by and present at the event. For example, I like events that emphasize teaching the culture and authentic origins of a dance.

What matters to Brodie in Melbourne is “whether they have a solid safer spaces policy/code of conduct/whatever is high on my list because I’m sick to fucking death of events not having this stuff sorted out.”

For Jurni in the USA, “The friendliness of the community is on the top of my list. Without question, the smaller communities are the easiest. Though I’ve seen large communities, through the efforts of the organizers really make it work. A great example is an event in Seattle where out-of-towners were given special bracelets, locals were told to make sure we were friended and danced. And we were.
“I have a special reason for needing a friendly community. You see, I’m transgender. I’ve been told, at a dance event, that I shouldn’t be here, that I should go to SF and dance there. I’ve attended a dance and wondered why I’m refused, only to learn later that there is an unwritten rule against same sex dancing by the organizers.”

Of course, even in a city like San Francisco that is well known as a stronghold for the LGBTQ
community, a tolerant culture is no guarantee. I got drawn into a FB discussion reacting to the SF Zouk Congress’s selling lead passes “for men only” and follower passes “for women only.” I found the organizers’ rationale unsatisfactory and I know something similar would turn me off attending another event.

The Package

Angela in Fort Collins, CO does a nice job of putting it all together: “I like to think of things in terms of a cost-benefit analysis. I look at all the things that are being offered at the event – who’s teaching and what’s being taught (if there’s workshops included), where the event is located and how easy it is for me to travel to it, and anything that makes it stand out from your run-of-the-mill dance event (i.e. silly contests, food, jazz or bar crawls, social activities). I weigh all of this against the cost of the event and the cost of traveling to it.”

I’d say my own decision-making process takes into account all of these factors. While none of them individually are enough to make me register and pay, a failure in any of them could certainly disqualify them from my itinerary. Ideally, I’d like to attend a reasonably-priced event with quality music, competent instructors, and an inclusive culture that some of my friends are also attending.

What about you? Is there one thing that makes or breaks an event for you? Do you have an equation you use to calculate an event’s worth? Share in the comments below!

Four Tips for Avoiding Drama Between Dance Schools

Sarah Liz Vuong

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June 8, 2016

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Four Tips for Avoiding Drama Between Dance Schools

This will be a short article, but something needs to be said. I’m really tired of people bringing each other down due to dance school rivalries. As more people join a community, they find out very quickly who doesn’t get along, who doesn’t support another school’s events, and who purportedly did what first (or better). Drama should not be the focal point of a dance community, but it so often is. Many people find their passion on the dance floor. Dancing and music naturally radiate positivity and good vibes, so the dance community should be a happy place. People should support and encourage one another whether they are social dancing, performing, or competing. This is how it should be, but something gets in the way. I’m not sure exactly how to define it–whether it’s jealousy, competitiveness, cattiness, or just plain being mean–but for a community to thrive, this attitude has to end. The drama has to stop.

When a community is small and everyone knows everyone, there are bound to be conflicting points of view and disagreements. I’m certainly not disputing that, but there must be a way to peacefully coexist. When people discourage others from attending events, make disrespectful comments during performances, talk smack about other dancers, or post negative comments on social media, this helps NO ONE. Nobody benefits from these actions and in fact, several dancers end up feeling uncomfortable, forced to choose sides, or embarrassed and disappointed by the behaviour of their peers (and sometimes, instructors). In fact, this drama often leads many people to call it quits and hang up their dance shoes. See this article by Melissa West-Koistila for more on the unfortunate reality of dance class warfare.

So what can we do to address the elephant in almost every social dance room? Well, that’s no easy task. I’m not saying I have any clear answers, but I would like to suggest some possible courses of action that at least seem reasonable:

Try to remain as neutral as possible.

Even if you’re part of a dance school, try to attend as many events as you can to support all of the organizers in your area. This way, you will experience social dancing with all kinds of people and this will only help you to advance your skill level. You will also learn from a variety of instructors and sources at different workshops and give yourself opportunities for exposure, whether through performing or networking. I’ll put this simply: if you don’t go to stuff because you don’t like the people running the stuff, you’ll end up missing out on a lot of stuff. You’re only hurting yourself here.

What you choose to attend is your own business, but don’t ever discourage others from going to an event.

Whether for financial or personal reasons, we can’t always go to everything. That’s fair. What isn’t fair is to constantly hear, “Why are you supporting such-and-such when so-and-so has done this and that.” Or sometimes, straight up: “You can’t go to that.” (I’m sorry, but no one should have the power to tell you that unless they’re your parents and you’re a minor!) I’m tired of hearing these stories. I’m tired of feeling like I need to pick sides. I’m tired of feeling guilty for going out to dance with my friends. If I don’t go to something, it’s probably because I’m so tired. 😉 Seriously though, I will attend whatever I can and by doing this, I don’t ever mean to hurt someone or avoid going to a different event or to proclaim my loyalty to any particular group. I like to think most people feel the same way. If you are someone who avoids events altogether due to an affiliation with a rival school or instructor, never let this become an agenda. It isn’t fair to your peers, students, or the community as a whole.

Don’t contribute to the gossip.

When people share negative rumours, ask questions such as: “Are you sure that’s how it went down?” Better yet, tell them you’d rather not talk about it or hear it. Obviously if you have experienced conflict, you will need to confide in someone. Talk to your friends or people you trust and rant about what happened, but don’t tell people who don’t need to know. Avoid sharing posts on social media that reflect negativity about other dancers. If you have something to say, confront individuals rather than an online social forum. Share your thanks and your positivity, not your or anyone else’s hostile rants. Many of us are guilty of making this mistake and it’s only human to want to express our frustrations. The problem is, even if you are in the right, your post will be perceived negatively by many individuals within (and outside of) your community.

Encourage one another.

Whenever I am part of the audience at an event, you will hear me screaming and cheering (almost obnoxiously so) anytime a dancer from my city or province hits the stage, even if we are not part of the same group or dance school. Why? Because I know them, I respect what they do, and usually, because they’re killing it! I’m not saying I’m a perfect role model for these sorts of situations. I’m not proud of how I’ve handled every frustration or hurt feeling from dance drama. What I am saying is that you can move past the animosity and just dance. If you enjoy a routine, congratulate the choreographer and dancers and tell them you appreciate their work. If someone wows you on the social dance floor, cheer them on! If there are dancers in your community who compete, wish them luck and again contribute to the applause and cheers. Remember that your actions both on and off the dance floor are a reflection of you and a reflection of your dance community. You don’t want to scare people off by pulling them into a whirlwind of childish remarks and behaviour.

We all want the same thing. We all want to dance and to spread our love of dance to others. Let’s bring the focus back to this point because none of this bullshit drama really matters and it will only continue to tear the community apart.

What To Do When You Mess Up While Dancing

Richie Kirwan

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May 27, 2016

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What To Do When You Mess Up While Dancing

You’re never so good that you don’t mess up every now and then!

While perfection is a wonderful goal to aim at, helping us aim higher, it is “addictively” unattainable (an important point to keep clear at all times lest you drive yourself mad pursuing something you’ll never have).

However, even though you’ll never be perfect, with practice, you might get pretty damn close (like my ability to put off writing for this blog, I’m getting better but thankfully I haven’t perfected it). This applies to everything from dance, to languages to professional air-hockey.

So, even if you consider yourself “hot shit”, YOU’RE GOING TO MESS UP SOONER OR LATER!!! How you deal with those little mishaps will play a pretty big role in how you approach your activities in the future.

Make a mistake… You suck… Quit!

When I used to teach salsa in Cali, I had one student in particular whom I had to “talk down from the ledge” of quitting salsa on more than a few occasions.

He had some major confidence issues but he was a dedicated student and learned well. His main problems stemmed from his lack of confidence; he was afraid to try new things on the dance floor (especially anything to do with body-movement) and whenever he made a mistake or a dance didn’t go well for him he would pretty much decide to NEVER dance again. On more than one occasion I got text messages from him at 2 or 3am announcing his resignation from the world of salsa, all due to a bad dance. I’m pretty sure I spent about 15% of our time together trying to convince him to get back out dancing and that everyone makes mistakes now and then.

For him, every mistake was a screaming symbol of his incompetence (which he wasn’t) and those beliefs really held him back. It was especially hard to see him like that because I could see both how much he wanted to improve and how much he was sabotaging himself.

Suffice is to say, this is not a good mentality to have when dancing. If everyone gave up when they made a mistake we’d have some pretty empty dance-floors!

Learning to laugh at yourself!

I remember one particularly eventful night of dancing in Cali. I was out with a big group of people and we decided to go somewhere different. The place had a huge dance floor, full of people. Near the end of the night the floor started to thin out and I invited my friend Francy out for a dance.

Francy is a professional dancer and she was one of the few people I could dance LA style salsa with in Cali so we used to have a ball together whenever we got to dance. Now for those who don’t know, typical “social” Cali-style dancing is a pretty simple affair, lots of sabor (hopefully) but simple. So when two people start dancing something a little more involved than Cali style, the people nearby tend to notice. Especially when one of those people is white enough for everyone to safely assume that he’s not Colombian.

We were tearing it up. We had loads of space and the night was coming to an end so we pulled out all the stops. At one point I noticed that we had garnered the attention of quite a number of the people sitting at tables around the dance-floor. For some reason that really got my adrenaline flowing so I may have started throwing caution to the wind. I could hear the music nearing it’s final few beats so I decided to finish it all off with a dip. I thought it would look great as Francy (as a pro) was all about the show and would have struck a great pose at the end.

I heard the final beats, lead her into a cross body lead with turn and as she was turning realized that there were still a couple of beats left in the song… it threw me completely and what happened next involved various flailing arms and legs and a sudden drop in altitude accompanied by a loud “Rrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiip”!

As soon as I came to my senses I realized I was lying on top of Francy, sprawled out on the dance-floor with a decent crowd of people looking at us. I looked at her and she looked at me… and we both burst into laughter!

Seriously, in the milliseconds I had to process everything, I decided that it would be far better to take what had happened in my stride and laugh it off together with one of my good friends, than to run off the floor crying and moaning about how awful a dancer I am.

We dusted ourselves off and skipped off the dance-floor together… at which point I realized that I had ripped a gigantic hole in the seat of my jeans when I did my belly flop. Oh well, at least it was the end of the night! (additional lesson to be learned: always wear dark solid color underwear when dancing… pink hearts on a white background tend to be a little to0 visible in the event of ripped pants!!!)

Even if you mess up and it results in the dance equivalent of this pile-up… just dust yourself off and laugh (or run away quickly)

Laugh it off

At the end of the day, laughing off our mishaps really is the best way to deal with them.

I’m notorious for obsessing over my shortcomings but I always make sure I don’t let that bad attitude get the best of me. If I did I certainly wouldn’t be dancing salsa or doing much else for that matter.

So, the next time you make a mistake (which if you’re anything like me should be pretty soon) be it missing the beat in the music, forgetting a combination or doing a bellyflop on top of your partner, remember you have two options:

1. Give up right there and then because you’ve made a mistake and no one who has ever become great at salsa ever made any mistakes

OR

2. Laugh it off and get back to doing what you love

Keep dancing folks

When Should Dancers Transition to Being Teachers?

Rachel Cassandra

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May 19, 2016

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When Should Dancers Transition to Being Teachers?

One of our readers submitted this question after witnessing a teacher handle a student’s question in class quite ineptly.

I think that the more relevant question is WHY, not WHEN. There is no magic number of years you should dance before starting to teach. There is no competition you must win. There is no particular certification that should be acquired, unless you’re in the ballroom dancing world. Far more important is the motivation you have for starting to teach. Let’s take a look at several factors that might be involved in deciding whether to become a dance instructor.

Money

Let’s just deal with this first. There have been a lot of messages out there recently about finding a way to do what you love as your job. After all, you spend a majority of waking hours working, so shouldn’t it be something you enjoy? If you love dancing, maybe the solution could be to do it professionally!

Well, perhaps, but teaching people to dance is rarely very profitable. If you rely on that income for your living, the stakes become rather high. It affects the way you view your classes and how you feel about students who attend regularly or don’t. You have to be an aggressive marketer and set up your classes to maximize profit. Most communities can’t support a dance teacher comfortably, which means either traveling a lot, moving to a big city, or teaching a huge range of dances. It will also land you right in the middle of dance scene politics, even if you don’t start out wanting to compete with others.

Plus, while you may fool some newbies, people who have been in the scene longer can nearly always tell when you’re motivated by money. And it’s not viewed well. Sure, everybody has to eat, but we don’t want to be your money bags.

Admiration

You love to be at the center of things. You want people to know you and respect you. You want them to see you and think “I want to dance like (fill in your name)”

There’s actually nothing inherently wrong with feeling like this. We all long for affirmation in some way. However, this need for affirmation might be better fulfilled by focusing on performance. When you put on a show in the social dancing world, it is all about seeking the audience’s attention, making them feel something with your movement. It doesn’t even necessarily require that high a level to be able to learn choreography and dance it with an energy that will grip people. At a higher level, you can train with a partner and create couple shows or videos for YouTube. You can even be the one to create choreography for a group of dancers – while this is often done by teachers, it is truly a separate skill, and well deserving acclaim.

But teaching to be admired? You’re putting your sense of well-being into the hands of students. You will be up and down depending how many people loyally come to class and what they say about you. You will probably come across as egotistical or hungry, never mind the question of whether you are actually any good at teaching. You’re almost certain to be the kind of teacher who can’t admit when they’re wrong or don’t know how to explain something, dismissing questions by saying “You just have to feel it” or even belittling your student for asking such a thing. This is one of the most infuriating wrongs I witness from teachers, and unfortunately it’s not uncommon.

Demand

People love your dancing. They love dancing with you, and they love watching you dance. You have excellent balance, fluid movement, clean lines, flawless connection, and beautiful musicality…or at least you are well on your way. People ask you: “Aren’t you a teacher?” “When are you going to start doing classes?” “I would love to take a private from you.”

That kind of approbation feels wonderful. It is certainly an indicator that if you want to teach, you could find support in your community. After all, everyone wants to learn from a skilled dancer. I would urge you to consider a few other questions, though: Do you want to teach? Do you know how to explain dancing to others? And does the scene need another teacher?

While being in demand is a good motivator, it shouldn’t be the only reason you start teaching. Having a gregarious personality, being a fun social dancer, or impressing people with your movement quality are all assets for a teacher, but they don’t actually add up to being a teacher.

Uniqueness

Maybe you are one of the first in your town to start dancing a particular dance style – kizomba, zouk, pachanga, whatever. People come up to you and say: “What is that?” “Can I try with you next time?” and pretty soon, “Would you teach us?”

Or perhaps you’ve been dancing a particular style for long enough to have developed your own special style. Something about the way you do your footwork, move through transitions, or put together moves impresses people. People ask you to teach them how to dance like you do.

If you want to share with others what you’ve developed, awesome! You have found your niche. So long as you can articulate where your style comes from and how others can achieve it, that individuality will be an incredible asset. It could even grow into a following!

That said, don’t feel obligated to help others recreate what you’ve crafted over time. Whether you don’t feel up to breaking things down, don’t want to invest the time in teaching, or simply prefer to stay one of a kind, others’ recognition of your uniqueness can’t be your sole motivating factor.

Partner

Whether it’s your romantic partner or your training partner, you’ve invested a lot in that relationship. When they ask you to teach with them, you can’t imagine refusing and having them ask someone else. Surely if they’re ready to teach, and they’ve asked you, you must be ready…right?

I think it’s important to consider in advance what your role is going to be. Is your partner going to be the teacher, with your role limited to silent assistance? Will you circulate and offer feedback as students practice? Will you each teach your respective roles? Will you fully co-teach?

If you’re going to be an assistant, it’s enough for you to dance well – so long as your partner understands both sides of the dance. You can grow into more responsibilities with time and experience (that’s how I got started!) If you are going to be a teacher in your own right, though, you need to have more than just your partner as a motivation. Otherwise, not only will it be a disservice to your students, it will be likely to strain your relationship as well.

Teaching Expertise

Some of you are just naturally good at explaining things. You see someone who’s confused, and you quickly formulate a way to break down the concept so they can understand. Others of you have invested in quality teacher training, spending weeks, months, or years to develop your pedagogy.

Now let’s be clear – just because you took a class called “instructor training” does not necessarily mean you have any teaching expertise. Some such courses are higher level dance classes with no actual work on pedagogy; others throw theory at you with no instruction about implementation; some are just plain mislabeled. If you’re serious about becoming a great instructor, do the research to be sure that not only are you learning from awesome teachers, but that they will cover the various aspects of teaching.

Every dance instructor should have teaching expertise of some kind. Regardless of whether you have a piece of paper certifying it, you need to be able to help your students improve in understanding, technique, musicality, and so on. While some people can improve just by watching an excellent dancer, most students who come to class need a little bit more than that. The more you focus on making every lesson better than the last, taking time to reflect on what worked and what didn’t, the more you hone your teaching ability.

Nevertheless, teaching expertise is more of an asset than a motivator. If it isn’t accompanied by enthusiasm for the community and compassion for the learners, it’ll be pretty dry. You must have a genuine desire to see your students improve, or why put in the time?

Passion

Maybe you live in a smallish town where social dancing is not a hugely popular activity. Or perhaps you dance one of the less widespread dances. You love dancing and you want to be able to do more of it with more people. You are on fire with enthusiasm and you want to help your local community grow in this dance.

Thank goodness for people like you! Everyone who is happy with their dance community owes it to people who were passionate enough to invest huge amounts of effort and time into building up the scene.

There might not be anything more important for becoming a teacher than this passion to share your dance. This is what fuels you as you try to organize new dance opportunities, pulls new people into your orbit, and inspires others to join in your efforts.

And yet…we all know that person who is excitedly teaching the newbies crazy tricks and dips that are endangering everyone on the floor. The urge to share your enthusiasm, while incredibly important, doesn’t cover all faults.

Conclusion

In the end, you need a combination of these factors before you can confidently take the step to becoming a teacher. You’re a skilled dancer, or at least enough better than the majority that people admire your dancing. You have demand for lessons, or you’re interested in building up your scene. You have teaching expertise, or else there’s a lack of teachers in your area and you intend to start with what you know and work hard to hone your abilities as an instructor. You care about seeing other dancers improve, and you want to invest time and energy in helping them do so.

There’s no single formula that yields the correct time for someone to transition to being a teacher. If you aren’t sure, try teaching without calling yourself a teacher. Run a practice session and share what you know. One thing is for certain: even when you do become a teacher, you should never stop being a student. There is always more to learn – and I’m glad of it!

Labels

Paul Stepowski

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March 30, 2016

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This is an article that has been bubbling away in the back of my mind for some time now. It’s about labels. Specifically, it’s about the dangers of becoming too invested in, or being too stringent in the application of, labels. Before I get into the negative side of labels, I want to acknowledge that labels can be useful in helping us make sense of the world, and navigating our way through it. Labels can be used to define taxonomies that allow us to have objective discussions with other people about various subjects, to share ideas and unite people with a common purpose. However, labels can also be restrictive. If taken to the extreme, labels can lead to indoctrination to a particular idea.

I want to share a little about how I have observed labels being used in the dance scene in not so positive ways.

Labeling Music Genres

This has always been a source of minor amusement for me. I’ve loved music for as long as I can remember, and my journey of musical appreciation has seen me pass through different phases. I had my punk-rock phase, my heavy metal phase, my grunge phase, my classical phase, my hip-hop phase, my rap phase, my acoustic guitar ballad phase, and more sub-phases over the years. Despite my changing musical interests, I have observed a constant. That constant is people’s tendency to get very hung up on classifying music into genres. In my punk phase, I listened to people argue about whether Blink-182 or Green Day were really punk-rock. In my heavy metal phase, I listened to people argue about whether Metallica were still heavy metal or not. In my rap phase, I listened to people argue about whether Eminem was real rap. These days I’m listening to a lot of latin music, and I listen to people argue about whether Marc Anthony is salsa or not.

I love Marc Anthony. There. I said it. I think he’s a great singer. I like some of his songs. He surrounds himself with other great artists, and the production of his music is excellent. I couldn’t care less if people think that Valio La Pena is salsa or not, I’ll dance to it. I love his renditions of Hector Lavoe songs, such as Que Lio, and I’ll listen to it in my kitchen making food, even when I’m not dancing. I understand people’s fascination with learning about music and its roots, and that this necessitates some sort of classification of music. However, for me, there are more important questions than, “is (song x) really (genre y)?” I’m more concerned with questions like, “does this song move me emotionally?” If you truly believe that your enjoyment of music is dependent it’s genre label, then I suggest that you might be missing out.

Labeling Dance Styles

Many people get fixated upon labeling dance styles, and I’ve seen this one manifest itself in various ways. I’ve lost count of the number of times, I’ve heard or read recently, “that’s not salsa/bachata/kizomba”. I remember at a congress in Parma, a French lady (at least, she sounded French to me) refused a dance, because I didn’t dance “Cuban style”, even though the song was by a band from New York City, with predominantly Puerto Rican artists, playing music with Afro-Cuban roots. It’s funny how Cubans, you know, people actually from Cuba, don’t commonly refer it as “Cuban style”, they generally just call it “salsa” or maybe “casino”. It’s mainly people from outside Cuba that apply that label. From my observation, the label “Cuban style” or “Cuban salsa” doesn’t mean salsa as it’s danced in Cuba, rather, generally it translates to, “any circular salsa variant that us linear style dancers don’t do (even if it’s cumbia, which originated in Colombia).”

Anyway, this particular lady refused my invitation to dance that song with me, even though I had seen her dance linear style (very well) earlier in the evening. Perhaps it was because somebody had told her, that “one must dance ‘Cuban style’ to ‘Cuban salsa'”. Perhaps she read it on an online salsa forum somewhere. Perhaps it was really because she just didn’t like the shape of my head, and she was using a different excuse to spare my feelings. The point I’m trying to make isn’t about a lady declining an offer to dance. Also, the point is not so I can gleefully point out the different between cumbia and casino. It’s about the labels that so many of us cling to so tightly, even when it defies logic, and even if it interferes with our enjoyment of dance, or potentially limits our opportunities.

Also, dance is constantly evolving. Since I started writing this article, some artist, in a studio somewhere, has changed the dance of salsa. Since I started writing this paragraph, kizomba has already morphed into something slightly different. In dance, as in life, they only constant is change itself. From my observation, people who refuse to change, and fight against the natural evolution of anything, are setting themselves up for disappointment. There’s a saying, “if you don’t like change, you’re going to like irrelevance even less.” This is what I’m reminded of whenever somebody jumps up on their soapbox about how one particular dance to one particular song is or isn’t salsa/bachata/kizomba, and so on.

Labeling Dance Ability

Many people love to apply labels to dancing and dancers in terms of ability. These labels are sometimes referred to as levels. At congresses, workshops are labelled as “beginner”, “intermediate”, “advanced”, or “open” level. We talk about dancing with “beginners”. We rave about that “master” class with artist x and artist y. I do see some value in categorising classes into levels. It clusters dancers into smaller, more manageable sized groups for teaching purposes and allows content to be pitched so that it is most relevant to the majority of dancers in the class. It can emphasise a culture of progression and development as a dancer. However, problems can arise when dancers get too emotionally invested in their level. It can cause dancers to feel that they need to rush their development in order to attain an arbitrary level, causing them to miss out on crucial fundamental concepts, which simply take time to assimilate. Similarly, it can cause some naturally talented dancers to limit their own growth, because they believe that they are “only a beginner” or have “only been dancing for x years”.

I’ve also observed the labels “teacher” and “student” sometimes applied in negative ways. I’ve noticed some teachers stop learning as soon as they label themselves as a “teacher”. I’ve seen students stifle their development, because they still view themselves as a “mere student”, even though they have progressed further than many other dancers who call themselves teachers. The roles of student and teacher do not have to be mutually exclusive. In a way, we are all both teachers and students of dance, as well as many other disciplines in life. We can be both student and teacher at the same time, and we can be student and teacher in different realms at the same time.

I had the privilege of attending a musicality class by Oliver Pineda a little while ago, and he said something to the class like, “we are all still learning. I’ll be watching you guys social dance later tonight, and one of you will do something, that I haven’t seen before, and I’ll take that idea and use it later.” One thing that I’ve noticed about the greatest dancers is that they have a real thirst for learning. If dancers like Oliver Pineda are still learning, and are open to learning from people who are far less experienced than they are, then what is our excuse for not doing so too?

Labeling Ourselves

I’ve chosen to write about labeling ourselves last, but this is the one I feel most passionate about. Throughout my dance journey, I’ve witnessed many people, including myself, apply labels to themselves that cripple their development as dancers. I’ve heard people say things like, “I’m too old/out-of-shape/uncoordinated to learn to dance.” I’ve heard, “I’m a such a slow learner. I’ll never get it.” I’ve heard, “I just wasn’t born with rhythm. I’ll never be able to dance like him/her.” I’ve even heard people say things like, “dancing is ‘gay’. I’ll never do that.”

I invite you to consider that these terms are just labels. They are only true, if you believe that they are true. You can either choose to let them define you, or you can throw them away. I believe that, if you really love something, you’ll probably find a way to make it happen, and that you won’t let anyone ever tell you that, “you can’t”, especially yourself. Take it from me, a nerdy, white IT guy, with two left feet (see, all those pesky labels again), whose been told a number of times he can’t dance. I started learning to dance at age 28, with zero former dancing experience. It was not easy. In fact, learning to dance is probably the single most challenging thing I’ve ever done, but it was worth it.

In summary, I invite you to become more aware of the labels that you apply, as well as the labels are applied to you, and to identify the labels that you have invested yourself in. I also invite you to challenge these labels, and, if they don’t serve you, to let them go.

Your Dance Budget – Investing Wisely

Rachel Cassandra

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March 19, 2016

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In dancing, as in so many aspects of our lives, we have to work with finite resources. I’m talking about the limits we face on time, energy, strength, and of course, money. You know you can’t do everything that is offered in your dance world, although maybe some of you have tried!

So how can you decide where to best invest your resources? Let’s consider some of the factors that you can consider when creating your personal dance budget.

First, what are your current priorities and preferences?
– Do you get most excited about long nights of social dancing, or do you want to build up your technique or repertoire of moves?
– Do you like to get to know your teacher, or do you long for classes from dance celebrities?
– Do you want to make new friends in far-flung places, or would you like to build relationships within a local community?
– Do you enjoy dancing to favorite tunes, or do you like to dance to a variety of unfamiliar music?
– Do you prefer DJ’d tracks or live music?

Now, these priorities and preferences are likely to shift and change as you continue to spend more time in your dance scene. However, having a clear idea of what you’re looking for in the next few months will make it much easier for you to make wise decisions about where to focus your funds, efforts, and time.

So, what are your investment possibilities? Let’s start by dividing them into two large categories: learning opportunities and social dancing venues. Then, within those categories we’ll consider the relative advantages of several types. Depending on where you live and what your preferred dance is, you may not have ALL of these options, but you probably still have plenty to choose from.

1. Learning opportunities

Weekly classes are the most obvious and usually most readily available means of learning to dance. They’re great because they’re usually not too far away, and you get to learn with a group of people who also live nearby. That provides an instant pool of partners for whatever social you intend, as well as potential friends. If you’re in a larger metropolitan area, you can easily drop in at a few different teachers’ classes. Check out their teaching and dancing styles and see who suits you best. Your teacher gets to know you pretty well if you come regularly to class, which makes them better able to offer you ongoing constructive feedback. If you’re the kind of person who prefers to have plenty of time to practice what you learn before adding new material, an hour a week is probably the perfect pace to make sure you assimilate what you learn. Plus, weekly classes tend to be really affordable, with many studios offering discounts when you sign up for a full series or a multi-class pack.

The next thing to consider trying out is a private lesson, whether with a local teacher or a visiting instructor. Many people wait until they’ve been studying for several months before they consider a private, but if you are enthusiastic about your chosen dance style, I’d recommend taking at least one even as a beginner. Private lessons give you concentrated, immediate feedback, and the sooner you take one, the less likely you are to develop bad habits that will need to be more laboriously corrected later on. Private lessons are also great when you feel in between levels, whether you’re lagging behind your friends or feeling like you aren’t quite challenged enough in class. A good teacher builds the lesson around your unique goals and needs. If you have the means, privates can also give you an accelerated path to becoming a higher level dancer. Private lessons admittedly do cost much more by the hour than group classes, but the concentration of learning makes it well worth the extra cost.

Sometimes local teachers offer a special multi-hour workshop on a weekend. This might be a beginner bootcamp, or a topical workshop, or an exploration of dances that are related to your primary style. If you’re smart about registering in advance, these often don’t cost much more than weekly classes, but they provide an excellent opportunity to concentrate on improving with other people who are enthusiastic. If you have an irregular work schedule and find it hard to commit to a weekly class, these workshops can be the perfect way to get started in a new style or continue building on a previous foundation. Just make sure you get enough sleep the night before so that your brain is ready to focus for hours of learning!

If you live somewhere with a reasonably sized dance scene, you can expect national or even international teachers to visit on occasion for a weekend workshop. These are excellent opportunities to experience professional instruction without the expense of traveling. Once again, planning in advance to take advantage of early bird pricing will yield serious value. Usually purchasing a “full pass” to such events will be significantly discounted in comparison to dropping in for just an hour or two. Check the teacher’s credentials online, watch their videos, and ask others for their opinions before committing, though. Just because someone is coming from out of town doesn’t necessarily mean they are a great teacher.

At some point, all dance enthusiasts are going to want to head to a full weekend dance festival. The scale of these events provides the chance to learn from multiple well-respected instructors in one place. There are often more advanced options as well as specialty classes you won’t find anywhere else. Now, these festivals require a pretty hefty chunk of cash, even when you’re purchasing a pass in advance. To get the best mileage from your budget, I’d again advise doing a bit of research.

Is this a festival that has previously been respected? Do the advertised teachers actually attend? What’s the class schedule like – do they tell you topics or just “Intermediate Kizomba” and “Salsa Shines”? Are you going to be able to get to the classes you are most interested in, or do they conflict? Also consider the additional expenses related to travel. Of course you’ll need to consider how to get to the city in question, but also check how easy it is to get from the airport or train station to the actual venue. You can also compare the cost of sharing a hotel room to getting a cheaper motel room or AirBnb nearby. (Or check out more ideas about accommodations!)

If you still have some money to spare, large festivals can be your best chance at getting a private lesson with a big name dancer. Be careful to budget your energy as well – regardless of how much you spent on your festival pass, it won’t be worth it to try to do everything that’s offered. You have to sleep sometime!

2. Social dancing

Some of you live in places where there is no regular opportunity for social dancing. I encourage you to invest some of your energy into hosting a house party, bringing people together in a park, or organizing a small group to sharing the cost of a studio for a couple hours’ practice. Chances are someone in your group will have speakers that will suffice, or you can use this simple amplification trick: place your phone or laptop in or over a metal mixing bowl. Living where there’s only a small scene doesn’t have to mean driving far away to dance! Plus, the nice thing about these small groups is you can play exactly what you want.

In most sizable towns, you can find a place to social dance at least a couple of times a month. Many studios offer regular practicas or studio parties so that students can take their learning and put it into action. You can also find social dances happening in restaurants or bars. The advantages of these sorts of regular socials are that the cost is generally quite low, you get to know people and find the dancers whose style you particularly enjoy, and it’s easy to bring new dancers into the mix. However, these dance parties often include a few different styles, unless you’re in a big enough city to have a dedicated night. If you enjoy variety, that’s great! If you really prefer one style, though, it can be a source of some frustration. Always remember to ask the organizer and the DJ to play music that suits the style you are longing for – most are responsive, so if enough people ask for something, they’ll start to include more of it. I have certainly seen this work well for those of us asking for more kizomba at mixed Latin socials!

Monthly parties or other special parties, such as occur in the evening after a Saturday workshop, are worth making a little extra effort to attend. Because they don’t happen as often, people tend to plan for them. You get a larger group of dancers from a wider area, so plenty of opportunity to make new connections and be challenged by new partners. The cost is usually higher than a weekly dance, but that usually means a nicer environment and a skilled DJ or even a live band. You’ll get to interpret fresh tunes, and maybe even play off the energy of live instrumentation. What a fun way to challenge your musicality!

The social dancing at a major festival offers similar advantages, but amplified. People come from all over, and that means more styles and more levels. The DJ’s are usually quite experienced and have huge music libraries. Live musical acts might include the very names you have on your playlist back home. That said, big events like this offer special challenges, besides the obvious greater expense for a ticket. Each one has its own focus and schedule, and you might find it’s hit-or-miss as to whether people are actually present when social dancing is meant to occur. They might be resting up for competitions, watching performances, or out drinking with people they only see at such events. Also, the need for large venues sometimes means a sacrifice in quality of the actual dance floors. As always, a little research and discussion among past attendees can clarify whether it’s worth your investment.

Personally, I like to do a little of everything, as my schedule permits. Hopefully with your personal priorities and preferences in mind, you can budget wisely for maximum dance enjoyment!

Best Dance Of The Night

Sarah Liz Vuong

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March 5, 2016

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Since joining the social dance community, I’ve been privileged to befriend like-minded people who share my passion for dance. I feel incredibly lucky to have a core group of friends to dance with at every salsa night and with whom I can travel and have an awesome time. We’ve formed a close bond and we can be honest with one another about our experiences on the dance floor.

Whenever we leave a dance event, we often use the drive home as an opportunity to ask, “So? What was your best dance of the night?” We enjoy ourselves throughout the evening, but there is usually one dance in particular that stands out. Perhaps it’s because you found someone who loves your favourite jam as much as you do, so you were both able to be playful with the music. Or, maybe you were able to connect with someone you have never danced with before and it was effortlessly smooth. In any case, every story of someone’s “best dance of the night” offers an important lesson to help you improve your own dancing.

Lesson one: When it comes to learning, you’ll never be finished.

Every time a lead tells me what their best dance of the night was, I listen carefully. What did that follower do that was so enjoyable? Sometimes it’s something really simple like smiling genuinely throughout the dance or clearly enjoying the music. Other times, they describe subtle details that I have to constantly remind myself to work on. For instance, am I light enough on my feet? Is my styling natural or is it out of place or too excessive and therefore taking away from our connection? Am I doing everything I can to maintain my balance and hold myself up while I step/turn/dip, or am I relying too much on my partner? Every time a friend tells me about what they appreciate in a follower, I ask myself, “Do I do that?” If I’m not doing it, I work on it. There is always something new to learn and one of the best ways to become a better dancer is to listen to the people who dance with you.

Lesson two: Connection is everything.

This lesson is a recurring theme in several LDC articles and is emphasized in every social dance class. It’s not about the number of “advanced” moves you know, nor the number of fancy shines you have memorized. Being a great social dancer is about paying attention to what your partner is doing; this is key to an incredible dance experience. Some of my worst dances of the night have been with people who are experienced, incredible dancers and very talented performers. Despite their skill, I felt no connection to them and at times, I felt embarrassed because I couldn’t keep up. Sadly, I’ve heard many stories that reflect similar frustrations. Leads should always be mindful of their partner’s experience and avoid super complicated moves that are tough to follow. It’s always a great idea to “test the waters” early on in a dance to see what your follower knows already.

On the other side, I’ve heard many leads say they’ve had their worst dance of the night with followers who are difficult to lead or who are too caught up with their own styling to pay attention to their partner. Followers who are experienced should always pay attention to their partner’s lead, even if it’s not what they’re used to. I will once again quote the talented Magna Gopal who reminds us: “It’s not about me, it’s about us.” It is possible to make amazing connections with people at all levels of the spectrum of experience.

Lesson three: Don’t take yourself too seriously.

Sometimes, you’ll want to channel your inner Daniel and Desiree and share moments of sensuality with your partner. Other times, you’ll want to be incredibly silly and make faces at each other throughout a dance–and that’s perfectly fine. Some of my favourite earliest memories of dance were when new friends would break the ice by singing along with the music, whispering funny comments while they were leading me, or making sound effects during a dip. Maybe some followers wouldn’t enjoy this, but it really helped me to combat my own awkwardness. Being too serious or trying to dance like a professional all the time is hard. Being authentic is much easier (and much more enjoyable for you and your partner). The best dances are often the ones in which you think less and laugh more!

Lesson Four: Give every dancer a chance and encourage other people to dance with them.

I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard someone say, “You should dance with so-and-so. They’re really fun to dance with!” Since day one of my salsa dancing adventures, my more experienced friends have shared their favourite partners with me. “He’s a really smooth lead!” “His bachata is out of this world–best dance of the night for sure!” “Her musicality is incredible–she’s a better lead than many of the men!” If it weren’t for these recommendations and introductions to some warm, welcoming dancers, I would have been too shy or too intimidated to ask these people to dance. For that reason, I never want to seem too intimidating and I definitely want people to finish a dance with me and say “You should dance with her!” to their friends.

So, I strive to make each dance memorable, no matter what. No. Matter. What. Even if you and your partner do not dance at the same level of experience, you can still be playful and have fun with your basic steps. Be someone’s best dance–not the reason why someone is discouraged.

What was your best dance of the night at the last event you went to? Share your story with the hashtag #bestdanceofthenight.

Judging a Book By Its Cover: Stereotypes and Superficiality on the Social Dance Floor

Melissa West-Koistila

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March 1, 2016

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Like most “serious” social dancers, I absolutely cherish my time on the dance floor. When I’m social dancing I’m not thinking about my problems at work, or about how I need to clean up my house when I get home, or about anything of much importance. It’s almost as if the part of my brain that generates all of my worries blissfully shuts down as soon as the music begins to play.

However, at times during certain dance events I become vaguely aware that my age and ethnicity may be automatic turn-offs for some of the male dancers in the room. While Salsa socials and events are often celebrations of diversity, they are not magically immune to the unfortunate intrusion of superficial preferences or cultural stereotypes held by some dancers. Sometimes it’s a reality that meaningless biographical details such as age, weight, ethnicity, etc., play a part in determining whether or not someone wishes to share four minutes of his/her time with you on the dance floor.

Too Old To Dance?

Recently, I was talking with one of my male friends about a Salsa event I had attended in a nearby city. I had really enjoyed it, but some of my female friends had a terrible time and told me that they would not be returning to this particular Social. They complained that they’d spent most of the evening sitting by themselves as very few men had asked them to dance. I was surprised by their comments as all of these ladies are excellent dancers who are frequently asked to dance when attending Salsa events held in our local community.

When I asked my male friend why he thought these ladies weren’t being asked to dance he simply replied, “You know – it’s their age. All of those women are in their 40’s or 50’s and guys like to dance with younger women.”

When I pointed out that I’m in my 40’s and that I danced all night long, my friend expanded upon his previous statement, explaining as follows: “Well, you’re a little different. First – you ask guys to dance and don’t wait to be asked, so that works in your favor. Also, you don’t look your age… to be honest, if your birth certificate was pasted on your forehead a lot of the guys probably wouldn’t want to dance with you either.” Wow. While that was a pretty harsh comment I had to acknowledge that there was some truth in what my friend was saying.

To be fair, it’s not just the male dancers who seem to have a preference for “youthful” dance partners. While attending certain events I have observed older men sitting alone on the side of the dance floor, seemingly trying to figure out which ladies would be receptive to an invitation to dance. However, I would note that these lonely “older” male dancers are often well over the age of 60, whereas their “older” female counterparts seem to be any ladies who’ve seen the sun set on their 35^th birthday.

Anyway — for anyone who considers age to be an important quality in selecting a social dancing partner, I would urge you to throw this factor out the window. Great dancers simply don’t have an expiration date.

If you’re just looking for a dance partner, (not a Prom date, Soul-mate, or Baby Mama/Daddy), all that should matter is whether or not your fellow dancer can share an enjoyable experience with you on the dance floor. Keep in mind that age and experience generally go hand in hand, and that many “older” dancers are some of the smoothest, well-trained, and most musically expressive dancers on the floor. So –if you’ve been screening out potential dance partners because of prejudgments or preferences regarding age, reconsider your position and ask someone like me, “an oldie but goodie,” for a dance. You’ll be glad that you did.

Not Hot Enough To Dance?

In my humble opinion there’s nothing wrong with asking someone to dance just because you like his/her physical appearance. There are a lot of great-looking people in the Latin dance scene and it’s always fun to dance with someone whom you find physically attractive. However, if you are excluding people from your list of potential dance partners solely based on some aspect of his/her physical appearance I guarantee that you are missing out on some great dance floor adventures.

Recently, my local salsa community experienced the loss of one of our most popular male dancers. Prior to this gentleman’s untimely passing, he was known for his smooth dancing style and graceful moves on the Latin dance floor. On the nights when this gentleman showed up at a Salsa event you could guarantee that the ladies who knew him would line up for a chance to dance with him. However, if this gentleman ventured out to dance on a night where few ladies knew him, or if he traveled outside of our local area, he would often leave early without having a single dance.

Why? Well –this charming man with great dance skills also happened to be morbidly obese. For the female dancers who knew him, his size meant little, but for those who didn’t, his size seemed to mean everything. Due to his appearance some ladies would assume that this man was incapable of dancing and would turn him down flat. Other ladies would just ignore him due to their lack of interest in dancing with such a large man. The whole situation was really unfortunate. Not only were these repeated rejections personally hurtful to this man, but many ladies missed the opportunity to dance with one of the great male leads in our community.

When it comes to most things, but especially dance, superficial judgments drawn or made about people based upon physical appearance are generally pretty worthless. I have learned over the years that some of the best social dancers come in the most unlikely of packages. So – the next time you’re out dancing, make a point of either asking or accepting a dance from someone who may not be your physical ideal. People often have a way of surprising us in the most amazing ways.

Too White/Black/Brown/Yellow/Red/Purple To Dance?

A few years ago I was standing on the edge of a dance floor chatting with a young female dancer. She was new to our local dance community and was asking my opinion on some of the male dancers on the floor. I pointed to one of my favorite male dancers who was absolutely killing it on the dance floor even as I was talking with this lady.

I said something to her like, “You see that guy with the green T-shirt on? You should definitely ask him for a dance. He is a musical beast and I love dancing with him.”

The young lady looked at the guy to whom I was pointing, briefly hesitated, and responded, “Um…are you talking about the guy wearing the turban thing on his head?” When I nodded affirmatively, she replied, “Well, I’m sure he’s a good dancer but I usually don’t dance with guys like that. One time I danced with this Indian guy and he smelled so strong of herbs and spices that it kind of made me sick to my stomach.

I didn’t want to initiate a deep discussion about race/ethnicity/nationality at a Salsa social, but I couldn’t stop myself from saying– “So, just because you danced with one Indian guy who smelled like spices, you won’t dance with any other Indian guys ever again?” The female dancer looked kind of annoyed at my question and replied, “Well – it sounds stupid when you say it like that, but that’s just my opinion.” Luckily, at that point our conversation came to an end when some non-Indian guy asked this lady for a dance.

The Latin dance community is a racially, ethnically, and culturally diverse community which most people seem to enjoy. However, for some dancers their entry into the Latin dance community may present them with their first true opportunity to closely interact with people who are ethnically/racially/culturally different from themselves. Sometimes this previous lack of multi-cultural exposure can lead to the forming of strange opinions about an entire group of people based upon one or two disappointing dance floor experiences.

Over the years I’ve heard all kinds of head-scratching comments from some of my fellow dancers regarding the supposed dance abilities of a certain ethnic groups. Some of the comments include: “Asian men only care about patterns;” or, “Black girls don’t know how to spin; “or, “Mexican men only know how to street dance;” or, “White guys have to count all the time.” These are just a few examples. I could go on and on, as I’ve heard comments about virtually every ethnic group made by people of virtually every ethnic group. While these comments are not exactly malicious, they are harmful as they needlessly erect barriers amongst us. The heartbeat of social dancing is connection, and anything that disrupts this connection should not have a place on the dance floor.

SUMMARY

None of us are immune from the lure of stereotypes as it’s often easier to lump “strange” people into groups rather than to consider them as individuals. However, stereotypes and superficial preferences do not serve anyone well on the Latin dance floor.

While you may not want to date someone twenty years older than yourself, dancing with someone from a different generation really shouldn’t pose a problem. And, who cares if you’re not physically attracted to every man/woman who asks you to dance? The way a person looks has nothing to do with the way he/she can rock your world on the dance floor.

Finally, while people who share a race, ethnicity or nationality may have a similar way of relating to music, no two people dance exactly alike no matter what culture they share. Dancing is one of the most enjoyable and personal ways in which we can share a part of ourselves with another person. Don’t let stereotypes and random superficial preferences limit your opportunities to enjoy the kind of connective experience that only the social dance floor can provide.

Becoming a Great Dancer (Obliterating racial stereotypes in 10,000 hours)

Richie Kirwan

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February 24, 2016

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Becoming a Great Dancer (Obliterating racial stereotypes in 10,000 hours)

Dublin, Ireland
Foreign girl: Where are you from?
Me: Ireland
Foreign girl: No your not, hahaha!

Cali, Colombia
Local girl: De donde es usted? (Where are you from?)
Me: Irlanda (Ireland)
Local girl: jajaja, mentira (hahaha, lies)

I was dancing with both of these girls when they asked me these questions.

Apparently it’s common knowledge that I, as an Irishman shouldn’t be able to dance well. Apparently, I do not have the genetic material that would provide me with the bone structure and joints needed to move smoothly nor the ear for the beat that would let me react intuitively to music. Apparently, these genes can only be found in Latin and African populations which is why they’re the best dancers.

BULL S#!T

This is a lie that has been perpetuated throughout the world and especially so in the dance community for far too long. Preconceived notions like this are what stop people from even attempting new things. If we listen to them we WRONGLY believe that we are destined to fail at a certain activity because we lack a certain characteristic, be it physical or mental, that is necessary to excel in that endeavor. How many times have you heard someone say something like “Oh I could never learn Japanese, I’m no good with languages” or “I’d never be able to play the guitar. Music just isn’t my thing” or the classic “You can’t teach an old dog, new tricks”? BULL S#!T BULL S#!T BULL S#!T

I’m going to put all those lies to rest today by saying this: “I am an Irishman and I dance salsa”.

Don’t worry. I’m not going to base my entire case on that one comment. It’s time to elaborate.

When I first started dancing in Japan, I was constantly told by the people who got me into the scene in the first place, how latinos were the best dancers, that they could move better than Japanese people and really express themselves with the music. I was told this by people who danced salsa well, by the people who were teaching me how to dance. I later remember going to salsa clubs in big cities in Japan on a few occasions and seeing Japanese people dancing spectacularly, with passion and rhythm and everything else that dance should be. Every bit as good as their latino counterparts.

When I returned to Ireland and started on the scene there I lost count of the times that people would tell me things like “I’ll never be as good as “so and so” because he’s black and they just move better”. One of my own former dance partners (you know who you are ;-)) even told me that I would never be as good as a latino dancer because I was Irish. She was convinced that her own latin heritage meant she could feel the music differently and dance better. Yet despite this I still managed to get many comments like those at the beginning of this post in Ireland, Japan, the US and even in Colombia, a latin country. Despite being Irish, I still dance well. (I know it sounds like I’m blowing my own horn here but I’m trying to make a point. I know for a fact that I have a very long way to go before I’m a great dancer, but that doesn’t mean I can’t dance WELL now).

Some of the best compliments I ever got were when I went with my friend of mine (let’s call her Angie) to a party held by some friends of her family. Angie is Afro-Latina as were the vast majority of the people who were at the party. I, on the other hand, am super-white (a term that really doesn’t do any justice to my level of whiteness) so I tend to stick out “a little” at such parties. I’m used to it at this stage. The lifeblood of Colombian parties is of course salsa, so when the music started I took Angie out on the floor and started doing what I love to do. It was a great dance as I had danced with Angie many times before but I also felt that every eye in the room was on me. It’s easy enough to justify; the white guy in a house of Afro-Latinos trying to dance salsa in the world capital of salsa. Everyone was dying to see if I’d be able to keep up with the beautiful black girl I was dancing with. The song ended and we walked back to our seats smiling. What came next was a stream of compliments from my hosts about how well I danced. They all expressed their surprise and told me things like “you move so well” and “you’re really able to get the rhythm”. I blushed hard (as everyone who knows me knows I do often) and went on to dance plenty more songs during the night.

A little later the only other white people at the party (a married couple and their daughter) told me how impressed they were by my dancing and I continued talking with the father for a while. He told me that he had never been able to dance, that instead he preferred to just listen to the music and chat at parties. He thought it was really amazing that a non-Latino like me could dance salsa so well. As we were talking we watched his teenage daughter dance with her friends. She danced just like them. She moved her body, especially her hips, beautifully and in perfect rhythm with the music, just like all the other girls dancing around her. I asked her father about it and he told me that he didn’t really understand why his own daughter danced so well. Neither he nor his wife were big dancers but she simply had always been able to dance well, since she was a child.

Let’s think about this a little: a white girl whose parents can’t dance, grows up in a mostly black community, with black friends, and ends up being able to dance just like them!

Is it possible that the ability to dance doesn’t actually come from some innate genetic ability that varies among races and is in fact something that can be simply learned? YOU BET YOUR SWEET ASS IT IS!

Here’s the thing, in general (I have to say in general because I have encountered plenty of exceptions over the years) people of African descent and latinos are amazing dancers. Is it because their bodies move differently, because they have “dancing genes”? I’m going to say “Not exclusively”. Then why do they dance so well? I firmly believe that a great deal of it is down to cultural exposure and the resulting practice.

Latino culture (at least from my experience in Colombia and Cuba) is full of music and dancing. Children are exposed to this music from a young age and start dancing salsa in school and continue to dance it at virtually every social evemt they go to during their lives. They spend a huge amount of time “practicing” so it’s no wonder they’re such good dancers. Black people in Cali often live in black neighbourhoods where they have an even stronger music and dance culture than non-afro-descended Caleños. Due to all of this exposure many of them end up being spectacular dancers. This explains how the white girl at the party was able to dance so well. She grew up in an Afro-colombian neighbourhood surrounded by that culture and “learned” to dance in exactly the same way as all her friends.

How to be Great at Anything

How can we use this, in practical terms, to improve our own dancing (or anything else for that matter)? We’ve established that even if your not of African or Latin decent you can still become an excellent dancer just by immersing yourself in the culture. So all you need to do is travel back in time and convince your parents to move to a Latin neighbourhood to raise you, right?

Thankfully it’s a little easier than that (no time travel required).

This brings me to the concept of 10,000 hours popularized by Malcolm Gladwell in his book Outliers. I first heard of this concept while studying Japanese after discovering a great website with the snappy title of alljapaneseallthetime.com. The whole concept of “10,000 Hours” is that anyone who has ever mastered or excelled in a particular field, be it sports, arts or business, has done so only after putting in a huge amount of time (for example 10,000 hours or so) “practicing”.

Why is Tiger Woods one of the greatest golfers on Earth? Because his father introduced him to golf when he was 18 months old and encouraged him to practice constantly. By the time he was ranked world number one he had racked up years worth of experience. The Beatles honed their concert skills over four years and 1,200 live concerts in Hamburg, Germany leading them to become one of the greatest music groups the world has ever seen. Think about it, how many times have you heard of some prodigy child musician on the news? Do you think it’s a coincidence that the kid started playing the piano or whatever when he was two and practiced 3 hours a day for 10 years? Not at all!

Now, since Outliers was released the theory of 1o,ooo hours has been shown to not be as important as previously assumed. However, the meta-analysis or pooled study that showed this still proved that deliberate practice was responsible for up to 25% of success in certain fields. As a scientist myself, 25% is nothing to turn my nose up at. So at the end of the day, the mantra holds true: CONSTANT, DELIBERATE PRACTICE MAKES PEOPLE BETTER. IN ANY FIELD!

But hold on, if you do the math, it would take almost 14 years of practicing everyday for 2 hours a day to reach 10,000 hours!
Yes…if you want to become one of the greatest in the world.

Some people, however, have less lofty goals. The whole point of this article is to point out the importance of practicing frequently to improve your chosen skill. Practice and you will get better. If you want to dance like a latino, increase your “cultural exposure”; listen to the music every chance you get and dance to it like it’s going out of fashion. Move with the music, make it part of your life and watch how you improve.

My own personal experience with the power of constant practice came about a year after I “started” dancing salsa. As I’ve stated in a post on my own blog when I first started dancing salsa I had trouble getting to regular classes (due to my schedule, location and interference from other hobbies) so my initial progress was slow. So in September of 2009 after deciding I wanted a holiday and wanted to improve my salsa at the same time I booked a trip to Manila in the Philippines and Hong Kong. My logic was that I could get some private coaching there much cheaper than I could in Japan and there was a more developed salsa scene in both cities so I could dance regularly while I was there. I booked a number of private lessons with some instructors who I found by searching on the net, packed my bags and left on what is known in Japan as Shugyou (修行) (training or the pursuit of knowledge).

My holiday lasted about 10 days of which I had a number of hours of private salsa instruction (maybe 6) and I also went out social dancing almost every night (amounting to maybe 24 hours of practice). So when I came back to Japan 10 days later I had an extra 30 hours of practice under my belt (which was probably more than all my time spent dancing in the previous 6 months). It showed. My salsa friends in Japan noticed straight away a huge improvement in my leading skills and general movement. I moved smoother and more easily and my lead became lighter but more definitive. In less than 2 weeks I had returned a different dancer.

I needed to increase the amount of time I spent practicing so I took matters into my own hands. I started organizing a monthly salsa class and party to get more people interested in salsa and so I could dance more. It took off and once a month my salsa friends and I would teach beginners the basic salsa steps and then dance for hours on end until our feet ached. I tried to practice with a partner on occasion too and I occasionally made the 4 hour bus ride to Fukuoka to dance in the salsa parties there. I improved a huge amount because of all the new practice and because I needed to learn to adapt my style to that of all the other new dancers I was dancing with.

All of this taught me the real value of constant practice. I now know that if I want to improve in Salsa, or anything else, I just need to put in the hours. If I want to learn to dance like a latino dancer I just need to dance (a lot) with latino dancers, to watch and imitate what they do and practice it (a lot) for myself.

After living for 2 years in Colombia I noticed 2 things:
1: My LA style salsa (that is, my technical salsa) took quite a nosedive because I didn’t have access there to partners that could dance LA (although I did find some and trained some in too).
2: My body movement and my ability to feel and react to music improved significantly. I danced salsa regularly there in much closer contact than I ever had before and that gave me that opportunity to work on isolation in my shoulders and hips that I felt I was lacking in before.

With lack of practice one skill deteriorated while with added practice a different skill improved. It’s all about the number of hours you dedicate to a given skill. Simple as that.

So if you want to be great at something (or even just want to improve a little) there really is nothing stopping you except yourself. The only thing keeping you from being as good (or even better) a dancer as Africans or Latinos is time. Go take every salsa class you can find. Practice your basic step while you’re cooking in the kitchen. Get a good partner and practice together as often as you can. Fill your smart-phone with salsa music and listen to it when you drive to work. Dance socially at every, single opportunity you get. Show the world that you don’t need magical dancing genes to be a great dancer. Put in your hours and reap the benefits.

How many hours have you put in this week?