Tango has been the love of my life since I moved to the USA almost a decade ago.
Today is my 1-year anniversary in San Francisco -- the longest I've ever lived in any place since college. It's also the second time I was offered -- and turned down the opportunity to run a tango school. For people who've known me for years, this seems absurdly uncharacteristic of me---after all, tango was my life, blood and soul!!
365 days ago (after backpacking in Europe for a year), I taught my last tango workshops in St. Louis and took a flight to San Francisco with three goals in mind:
1. Move to San Francisco
2. Find a job in tech
3. Make non-tango friends
Since that day, my life has been flipped over, shaken, stirred, replaced, and shoved forward in a new direction.
I chose SF because it's the place where I can feel like I'm traveling without actually having to travel.
I wanted to work in tech because unlike tango, it's highly scalable (you wouldn't be able to hire a team of to-be-tango-teachers and train them up in a year).
And I wanted non-tango friends because I wanted to try---for the first time in my adult life---to make deep connections outside of a dance context.
Stepping away from tango was really difficult. There are some tango friends who really made an effort to stay in touch and meet with me outside of dancing contexts, and vice versa. I lost touch with others, naturally, because I was no longer hanging out with them every day of the week.
So I packed my calendar to the brim with networking events in SF and forced myself to talk to strangers at events. Within a month I began co-organizing a (now international) cultural, social, and intellectual meetup every single Tuesday. This allowed me to make friends---some who still don't know that I'm a dancer!
I worked at a transportation startup (Sidecar), which got acquired after I was laid off, and I'm now at Square, which went public after I joined. I'm also helping out at another early-stage startup, Magpie (which I'm intensely passionate about), to help women travel alone safely. Ironically enough, I stumbled upon this opportunity because the CEO wanted to learn more about women who traveled alone within the tango community (or any niche community).
I began to bartend at a dive bar (Club 93) to get to know Square's product better from the merchant's side, but fell in love with serving and people-watching from behind the bar.
I'm now taking 3 hours of classes at a bartending/mixology academy every day, and sometimes start my day at 6:30AM to fit everything into my schedule----which usually doesn't have tango in it.
Friends keep asking me WHY I'm not teaching, why I'm not dancing every night----did I stop loving tango?!
The answer? The exact opposite.
Tango is that one constant in my life that I'm so, SO sure about that I have no doubts I'll return to it one day. I'm so confident that tango will always be in my life, I feel safe to take time off from it now. And I don't want to ever need tango. I just want to want it -- forever!
There are some things I was unsure about so I went ahead and did them----
- Can I backpack the world alone if I didn't take this opportunity? No idea.
- If I don't try bartending now, will I ever be a bartender? Probably not.
- Will the tech scene always be this alive? I don't know.
- Would I have the time to help out at a friend's early stage startup ten years from now? Not sure.
- Will I still love tango? YES! Yes, yes, I will!
I'm not avoiding tango---rather, I'm finally opening my schedule up for new experiences because I'm so comfortable with the idea that tango will be there for me that I CAN schedule new experiences and work and activities for a few years. I want to try my hand at all the things I'd never tried before--careers, hobbies, people!
Tango will be there when I'm ready and steady and (tan)go.
Friday, February 12, 2016
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
Sex, Culture, and Continuous Tandas
*Note: for some of the non-tango dancers who may be reading this blog, a tanda is a set of songs, usually played by the same orchestra, ranging from about 3-5 songs each (usually 4).
I was chatting with a friend in Taiwan at the milonga last night, and we talked about the concept of continuous tandas.
I've mostly danced in North America, so I'm accustomed to dancing multiple tandas with people I really enjoy dancing with. Even if I have intense feelings on the dance floor, I'm able to shut off as I leave the dance floor. My Taiwanese friend, however, noted that if someone dances many tandas in a row, there is definitely "something" going on.
I explained that I did it all the time. He was surprised. Surely they hit on you? Nope. There was often some mild flirtation, but nobody ever expected to take me home just because they danced with me for many tandas. Anything remotely close to a tango relationship I had always blossomed off of the dance floor, through meals, hanging out (in a non-tango setting), chatting...
I've never been to Argentina, but I hear that the culture there is rather different (or perhaps even similar to Taiwan). Friends tell me that multiple tandas = coffee, and coffee = bed.
A good dance connection CAN lead to hanging out, which *may* blossom into something else, but this means that you were compatible in the first place, outside of the context of dancing.
When I was in my first ever tango class and was in the same class as a gorgeous charismatic young man. On the first day I gladly rotated to him. By the end of the class I was trying to avoid him. He stepped on my toes too much and didn't care about tango as much as he cared about flirting.
My theory is that tango nerds often find other tango nerds wildly attractive. Those who invest a lot of time on the dance and music (and not necessarily sex) get an advantage. They'll also (in North America) dance more continuous tandas. But for me (and most North American dancers), multiple tandas only mean that I really enjoy dancing with someone. And I enjoy dancing with their personalities. (There are a few decent dancers I refuse to dance with because they're not nice people).
I was chatting with a friend in Taiwan at the milonga last night, and we talked about the concept of continuous tandas.
I've mostly danced in North America, so I'm accustomed to dancing multiple tandas with people I really enjoy dancing with. Even if I have intense feelings on the dance floor, I'm able to shut off as I leave the dance floor. My Taiwanese friend, however, noted that if someone dances many tandas in a row, there is definitely "something" going on.
I explained that I did it all the time. He was surprised. Surely they hit on you? Nope. There was often some mild flirtation, but nobody ever expected to take me home just because they danced with me for many tandas. Anything remotely close to a tango relationship I had always blossomed off of the dance floor, through meals, hanging out (in a non-tango setting), chatting...
I've never been to Argentina, but I hear that the culture there is rather different (or perhaps even similar to Taiwan). Friends tell me that multiple tandas = coffee, and coffee = bed.
A good dance connection CAN lead to hanging out, which *may* blossom into something else, but this means that you were compatible in the first place, outside of the context of dancing.
When I was in my first ever tango class and was in the same class as a gorgeous charismatic young man. On the first day I gladly rotated to him. By the end of the class I was trying to avoid him. He stepped on my toes too much and didn't care about tango as much as he cared about flirting.
My theory is that tango nerds often find other tango nerds wildly attractive. Those who invest a lot of time on the dance and music (and not necessarily sex) get an advantage. They'll also (in North America) dance more continuous tandas. But for me (and most North American dancers), multiple tandas only mean that I really enjoy dancing with someone. And I enjoy dancing with their personalities. (There are a few decent dancers I refuse to dance with because they're not nice people).
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Why I Love and Hate the Cabeceo
*Note: Back when I wrote this post, I'd been spelling it as "cabaceo." I've since been corrected (thanks, Terpsichoral TangoAddict!). It's "cabeceo," and it comes from "cabeza," which means "head."*
Several years ago at the Houston Tango Marathon, I arrived at a milonga and suddenly felt a piercing gaze from the back of my skull. I turned around, and in the farthest away corner of the room, a man I'd never met before clearly but subtly gestured me towards the dance floor.
I accepted immediately. Anyone who is able to cabeceo me as such a distance must know what he's doing, I thought. And I was right; he was wonderful. We ended up dancing perhaps 20 tandas over the weekend. I began to really like the cabeceo. I would use it from the other side of the room for people I wanted to dance with, and felt like I had my own little secret when someone cabeceo'd me. In fact, I started to fear the men who walked up right to my face and stuck their hands in my nose; more often than not, these men were as subtle in their dance as their "invitation."
So I began to love the cabeceo. A way for someone to ask another to dance without risk of losing face. Even I began to initiate the invitation more. I was usually so shy!
But I also realized something I began to do. On days I wanted to sit and chat with friends, or just rest, I would often keep my eyes downcast, or even suddenly dive into my purse to look for something when I felt a pair of eyes burning into the back of my skull. People talked about the tango community being cold and unfriendly. I think it was largely due to the cabeceo culture! People make much less eye contact for acknowledgement (something Americans do ALL the time, everywhere), and I even found that there were times dancers said hello less or chatted less with people they didn't want to dance with, even though they loved being around them! The culture of the milonga was driving people who could have been really good friends away from each other.
So I began to hate the cabeceo. A way for someone to shut someone out---not even intentionally, just because they didn't want to dance. When someone ignores a cabeceo repeatedly, it feels like they're ignoring YOU. And trust me; I've felt it.
I still have a love-hate relationship with the cabeceo, but here is a tip I've found that's worked for me for getting dances with strangers: I go out of my way to introduce myself to people I want to dance with, and express interest in dancing with them **at some point** (but not necessarily now!). That way, they know the invitation is open and they could approach me at any time (even verbally). This is the tactic I use most often at festivals. On a Friday night, I'd find someone I wanted to dance with at the END of a milonga (when there's no pressure), and tell them my name, and that I had a lot of fun watching them dance. They can then watch me in the upcoming nights and decide on their own whether or not to approach me.
How can we can make tango communities warmer? Do you love, hate, or love AND hate the cabeceo?
Several years ago at the Houston Tango Marathon, I arrived at a milonga and suddenly felt a piercing gaze from the back of my skull. I turned around, and in the farthest away corner of the room, a man I'd never met before clearly but subtly gestured me towards the dance floor.
I accepted immediately. Anyone who is able to cabeceo me as such a distance must know what he's doing, I thought. And I was right; he was wonderful. We ended up dancing perhaps 20 tandas over the weekend. I began to really like the cabeceo. I would use it from the other side of the room for people I wanted to dance with, and felt like I had my own little secret when someone cabeceo'd me. In fact, I started to fear the men who walked up right to my face and stuck their hands in my nose; more often than not, these men were as subtle in their dance as their "invitation."
So I began to love the cabeceo. A way for someone to ask another to dance without risk of losing face. Even I began to initiate the invitation more. I was usually so shy!
But I also realized something I began to do. On days I wanted to sit and chat with friends, or just rest, I would often keep my eyes downcast, or even suddenly dive into my purse to look for something when I felt a pair of eyes burning into the back of my skull. People talked about the tango community being cold and unfriendly. I think it was largely due to the cabeceo culture! People make much less eye contact for acknowledgement (something Americans do ALL the time, everywhere), and I even found that there were times dancers said hello less or chatted less with people they didn't want to dance with, even though they loved being around them! The culture of the milonga was driving people who could have been really good friends away from each other.
So I began to hate the cabeceo. A way for someone to shut someone out---not even intentionally, just because they didn't want to dance. When someone ignores a cabeceo repeatedly, it feels like they're ignoring YOU. And trust me; I've felt it.
I still have a love-hate relationship with the cabeceo, but here is a tip I've found that's worked for me for getting dances with strangers: I go out of my way to introduce myself to people I want to dance with, and express interest in dancing with them **at some point** (but not necessarily now!). That way, they know the invitation is open and they could approach me at any time (even verbally). This is the tactic I use most often at festivals. On a Friday night, I'd find someone I wanted to dance with at the END of a milonga (when there's no pressure), and tell them my name, and that I had a lot of fun watching them dance. They can then watch me in the upcoming nights and decide on their own whether or not to approach me.
How can we can make tango communities warmer? Do you love, hate, or love AND hate the cabeceo?
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Fame
I once took a class from one of the most famous tango stars in the world. It was expensive, well attended, and he was a fantastic dancer. I didn't learn much. I never took his class again, but they continue to be well-attended because of his fame.
When I was traveling in Asia last week, I came across a very interesting phenomenon. There was a famous couple visiting. The milonga price was increased from the regular $10 to $25. The performances were lovely. When the performance was over, I was looking forward to dancing again, but the milonga was now a continuation of the performance. Whenever one of the teachers danced, everyone remained seated to applaud after EVERY SINGLE song.
I understand the need to watch rather than dance. I often ask my partner if we could sit so I could watch a beautiful couple. If they do something cool, I might occasionally catcall after them. But I had never seen a milonga stop for everyone to clap. Everyone in the room sat still. NOBODY danced. Some wanted to watch. Others were too shy to dance because it was now a performance they feared interrupting.
At the end of the night, one girl said, "wow, it was like watching an entire night of performances! How fun!" "Really?" I asked. She tilted her head, and finally admitted, "Well, not really...but since I wasn't getting any dances anyway, it was better than doing nothing."
Christa was one of my most influential instructors during my first year. When I first started, you wouldn't say Christa was "famous." She was, however, inspiring, encouraging, beautiful, and down-to-earth. Good teachers show not only movements, but they also teach you work ethics. Christa taught me how to work on my own to improve. She is now somewhat well-known because their students improve DRASTICALLY. Christa mentored. I have now begun to do something similar; a reflection of them. I work via by exchange with those who are incredibly serious about tango (and/or have little income).
What do you think about the milonga phenomenon in Asia? And what do you feel about teachers who were profoundly influential, but not famous?
When I was traveling in Asia last week, I came across a very interesting phenomenon. There was a famous couple visiting. The milonga price was increased from the regular $10 to $25. The performances were lovely. When the performance was over, I was looking forward to dancing again, but the milonga was now a continuation of the performance. Whenever one of the teachers danced, everyone remained seated to applaud after EVERY SINGLE song.
I understand the need to watch rather than dance. I often ask my partner if we could sit so I could watch a beautiful couple. If they do something cool, I might occasionally catcall after them. But I had never seen a milonga stop for everyone to clap. Everyone in the room sat still. NOBODY danced. Some wanted to watch. Others were too shy to dance because it was now a performance they feared interrupting.
At the end of the night, one girl said, "wow, it was like watching an entire night of performances! How fun!" "Really?" I asked. She tilted her head, and finally admitted, "Well, not really...but since I wasn't getting any dances anyway, it was better than doing nothing."
Christa was one of my most influential instructors during my first year. When I first started, you wouldn't say Christa was "famous." She was, however, inspiring, encouraging, beautiful, and down-to-earth. Good teachers show not only movements, but they also teach you work ethics. Christa taught me how to work on my own to improve. She is now somewhat well-known because their students improve DRASTICALLY. Christa mentored. I have now begun to do something similar; a reflection of them. I work via by exchange with those who are incredibly serious about tango (and/or have little income).
What do you think about the milonga phenomenon in Asia? And what do you feel about teachers who were profoundly influential, but not famous?
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Money and Tango
Tango shoes are expensive. Tango workshops are expensive. Tango lessons can be expensive, and festivals and travel/lodging are DEFINITELY expensive. So do only people who have money get to tango? In my opinion, this creates a big conflict. Teachers aren't willing to necessarily give out lessons for free, and no vendor is going to throw out free shoes.
What IS a viable option, however, is that if someone REALLY wants to dance enough, and cannot pay for it, they can always contact the organizers of milongas/practicas and offer an exchange to sit at the door and collect money, or even teachers, to exchange some work (postering/flyering/administrative tasks) for group, and even private classes. This happens ALL the time, and probably not only in Seattle. But only those who are motivated enough will contact the organizers. They're probably also happy to do exchanges for another skill. I'm currently doing an exchange to learn how to drive. I would also be happy to work with someone for free (or with an exchange) if they exhibhit extraordinary dedication and improvement. And for those who are connected with the UW, and are willing to work on reviving the Tango Club, I'd be happy to help out for free there, too.
For practicing: I practiced in my at-the-time tiny old kitchen, and occasionally the tiny, carpeted hallway of my tiny apartment. It is definitely nicer to practice in a bigger space, but I'm just noting that it CAN be done in small spaces. And it's no joke that I did ochos in the supermarket. (I also sat at the door at practicas a lot and did occasional flyering)
As for tango shoes: I've scored several pairs under $20 or even $10 at places like Goodwill and Crossroads. In fact, I like them even better than some of my more expensive tango shoes.
And here's a little secret about me: One of the main reasons why I started doing tango (even though I wasn't hooked yet at the time) was because the studio I was taking classes from offered half price discounts for students. THANK GOODNESS for that! On the other hand, after I became hooked, I began to shell out a lot more for tango. I rarely went out to eat, or went shopping, but I never though twice about paying for a milonga or lessons I really wanted to take. But what are your thoughts about travelling instructors and whether or not they would be willing to do some sort of exchange for workshops?
What IS a viable option, however, is that if someone REALLY wants to dance enough, and cannot pay for it, they can always contact the organizers of milongas/practicas and offer an exchange to sit at the door and collect money, or even teachers, to exchange some work (postering/flyering/administrative tasks) for group, and even private classes. This happens ALL the time, and probably not only in Seattle. But only those who are motivated enough will contact the organizers. They're probably also happy to do exchanges for another skill. I'm currently doing an exchange to learn how to drive. I would also be happy to work with someone for free (or with an exchange) if they exhibhit extraordinary dedication and improvement. And for those who are connected with the UW, and are willing to work on reviving the Tango Club, I'd be happy to help out for free there, too.
For practicing: I practiced in my at-the-time tiny old kitchen, and occasionally the tiny, carpeted hallway of my tiny apartment. It is definitely nicer to practice in a bigger space, but I'm just noting that it CAN be done in small spaces. And it's no joke that I did ochos in the supermarket. (I also sat at the door at practicas a lot and did occasional flyering)
As for tango shoes: I've scored several pairs under $20 or even $10 at places like Goodwill and Crossroads. In fact, I like them even better than some of my more expensive tango shoes.
And here's a little secret about me: One of the main reasons why I started doing tango (even though I wasn't hooked yet at the time) was because the studio I was taking classes from offered half price discounts for students. THANK GOODNESS for that! On the other hand, after I became hooked, I began to shell out a lot more for tango. I rarely went out to eat, or went shopping, but I never though twice about paying for a milonga or lessons I really wanted to take. But what are your thoughts about travelling instructors and whether or not they would be willing to do some sort of exchange for workshops?
Non-tango things that improve your tango
Here are a few things that I have found helped my tango:
1. A musical background--I sang in a school choir for a few years in a past life (and a love for tango music)
2. Ballet/modern/jazz
3. Contact improv
4. Gyrokinesis
5. Yoga
5. Plain working out at the gym
I'm sure any sort of body awareness exercise can help with balance and coordination. Here are some other good ones that I haven't really spent enough time on myself but may help your overall tango (I have probably heard about this from lots of other people).
-Pilates
-Barre Class
-Any form of martial arts that allows you to be grounded
-Any dance form that allows you to be comfortable with moving your body
Of course, you don't need ANY of this. You can just practice technique on your own, but I've found some differences in my tango as I increased my strength. Modern, ballet, and gyrokinesis are probably my top recommendations.
1. A musical background--I sang in a school choir for a few years in a past life (and a love for tango music)
2. Ballet/modern/jazz
3. Contact improv
4. Gyrokinesis
5. Yoga
5. Plain working out at the gym
I'm sure any sort of body awareness exercise can help with balance and coordination. Here are some other good ones that I haven't really spent enough time on myself but may help your overall tango (I have probably heard about this from lots of other people).
-Pilates
-Barre Class
-Any form of martial arts that allows you to be grounded
-Any dance form that allows you to be comfortable with moving your body
Of course, you don't need ANY of this. You can just practice technique on your own, but I've found some differences in my tango as I increased my strength. Modern, ballet, and gyrokinesis are probably my top recommendations.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Relationships and Tango
*Note: I started writing this post in January of 2012, and never got more than 2 lines until October 20th, 2013.**
Tango people are some of the smartest, kindest, and most interesting people I know.
So it becomes difficult to avoid falling for someone you love dancing with. Or even someone you don't dance much with, but see every other day for hours at a time.
When I started tango I was 18 years old. It's been exactly five years now, and my thoughts and opinions about the dance and people are constantly changing, growing, shrinking, and flipping out.
Tango romances are happening all over the world. But although love can be beautiful, romance within a tango community can be messy--very messy. I'm not talking about anyone in particular (or even about people that I know personally), but I've seen dozens of couples with the most extreme cases of tango drama; couples teaching together and breaking up. Couples who sacrifice love for art. Couples who sacrifice art for love. People who date their past lovers' friends. People who date their current lovers' friends. Friends who become enemies. You name it---it's there.
I took a private lesson from a very famous traveling couple once. They had been together romantically for years, and made such beautiful art! During the private, I asked them. "Do you fight??" To which the woman replied, "YES, all the time! But we need to take it off the floor; take a coffee break."
I asked another seemingly successful professional tango couple. The woman told me that anything that happens in tango, they can let go when they leave the floor. Tango is separate from their lives. But she had seen so much drama from other couples because they couldn't keep it separate.
Some of my friends are sad when their significant others don't want to dance with them, but want to dance with others. A decline in dance connection is another issue that arises often in tango relationships. "Why can't you dance with me like you dance with so-and-so?" seems to be the most common complaint.
A few dancers fall in love on the dance floor. For some it's just a 10-minute spinning affair. For others...they try out their connections off the floor, but in most of the cases I've seen, they fail. Juggling a relationship in tango is often like having two relationships.
And then there are those people who fall in love within tango, and then tango no longer becomes the center of their lives. Their partners are more important, and tango is "just a dance." These people are usually very happy in their relationships.
Exactly a year ago, I was jolted by something that whacked me so hard over the head that I had the wind knocked out of my gut. Tango doesn't need to be the center of my life. Other things can be more important. Friendship. Health. Family. Love. Even career. I'd neglected those things for years when my brain was screaming to be fed more tango. When tango took over my life, I had no time or care for anything or anyone else. I was proud, too, at the time, that tango was the center of my life. I look back now and there's nothing to be proud about. I was obsessed. Addicted. It was unhealthy.
There are people that are living happy, fulfilling lives.
With tango.
And without tango.
Tango people are some of the smartest, kindest, and most interesting people I know.
So it becomes difficult to avoid falling for someone you love dancing with. Or even someone you don't dance much with, but see every other day for hours at a time.
When I started tango I was 18 years old. It's been exactly five years now, and my thoughts and opinions about the dance and people are constantly changing, growing, shrinking, and flipping out.
Tango romances are happening all over the world. But although love can be beautiful, romance within a tango community can be messy--very messy. I'm not talking about anyone in particular (or even about people that I know personally), but I've seen dozens of couples with the most extreme cases of tango drama; couples teaching together and breaking up. Couples who sacrifice love for art. Couples who sacrifice art for love. People who date their past lovers' friends. People who date their current lovers' friends. Friends who become enemies. You name it---it's there.
I took a private lesson from a very famous traveling couple once. They had been together romantically for years, and made such beautiful art! During the private, I asked them. "Do you fight??" To which the woman replied, "YES, all the time! But we need to take it off the floor; take a coffee break."
I asked another seemingly successful professional tango couple. The woman told me that anything that happens in tango, they can let go when they leave the floor. Tango is separate from their lives. But she had seen so much drama from other couples because they couldn't keep it separate.
Some of my friends are sad when their significant others don't want to dance with them, but want to dance with others. A decline in dance connection is another issue that arises often in tango relationships. "Why can't you dance with me like you dance with so-and-so?" seems to be the most common complaint.
A few dancers fall in love on the dance floor. For some it's just a 10-minute spinning affair. For others...they try out their connections off the floor, but in most of the cases I've seen, they fail. Juggling a relationship in tango is often like having two relationships.
And then there are those people who fall in love within tango, and then tango no longer becomes the center of their lives. Their partners are more important, and tango is "just a dance." These people are usually very happy in their relationships.
Exactly a year ago, I was jolted by something that whacked me so hard over the head that I had the wind knocked out of my gut. Tango doesn't need to be the center of my life. Other things can be more important. Friendship. Health. Family. Love. Even career. I'd neglected those things for years when my brain was screaming to be fed more tango. When tango took over my life, I had no time or care for anything or anyone else. I was proud, too, at the time, that tango was the center of my life. I look back now and there's nothing to be proud about. I was obsessed. Addicted. It was unhealthy.
There are people that are living happy, fulfilling lives.
With tango.
And without tango.
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