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“For this class, we are going to focus on teaching basic steps and getting you comfortable with tango,” Logan starts. “Dancing shoes are ideal, but if not, any comfortable footwear will do the trick. You need to feel confident in moving around so please wear loose or stretchy clothing to allow for movement. We start at six and it runs for an hour. We do ask that you silence your phones as well, if possible.”
Tara smiles, and with a nod says, “Let’s begin.”
“With Tango, there is a leader and a follower,” Logan tells the class. “People think it's always the men that lead and the women that follow, but tango has a long history of men dancing together to practice. And as time has gone on, it is not unusual to see two men or two women dance together, where one gravitates to leading, and one prefers to follow. Here, we welcome whatever you would like to do.”
I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know that I want to be a leader, so I aim to follow instead.
“For the purposes of this class, Tara will teach the follower steps, and I will teach the leader steps.”
“Tango is considered a walking dance,” Tara says. “So, we’re going to begin with the foundation of the dance, the basic step.”
“The basic step is an eight-count step and it looks like this.” Logan shows us the move as a leader, and Tara shows us how to do the step as a follower.
“Now, let’s go slow. One.” She takes a step. “Two.” She takes another. “Three, four. Five, cross over. Six, step back. Seven and eight.”
We follow, all of us solo to start. I watch my feet, how they move in these shoes, and I’m struck by how good it feels.
It’s almost unbelievable to be here, doing this. I never thought I would. I figured these dreams would have stayed with eight year old Julie, falling away with everything else I loved when I was young. But here, learning steps, wearing these remarkable shoes, it feels like I’m close to something I’ve been unknowingly chasing for a long time. It’s almost too overwhelming, and I worry I might shut down.
Logan and Tara continue to speak, Logan mostly showcasing steps, slowly adding on to them, and letting us practice several times. He talks about the differences in Argentine tango versus ballroom tango. He speaks of the competitions he’s done, the formalities of it. He even mentions how, “even though this isn’t a history class, we can certainly take a minute to understand and appreciate the origins of tango. How it came to life in the impoverished neighborhoods of Buenos Aires, pulling inspiration from African and European dances.”
The thing is, I don’t know Logan, but I know he is a very talented dancer. That much is evident. And he could surely give the Wikipedia rundown of Argentine tango. But what else is evident to me now is how much I can sense the soul of it, the heart of it. And how a strange thing is happening to me in theseshoes. It sounds ridiculous. Hell, it feels ridiculous. But I feel powerful. I feel graceful. I feel … free.
“Now, we’re going to do something called a practice hold or a practice embrace,” Tara says to the class. “The practice embrace is not a proper tango hold. It’s meant to give you more space to practice the steps, to work on them as a beginner with a partner. You’re welcome to pair up with whoever you’d like for this exercise.”
Some students pair up with their dates, others pair up with other students, and I’m left lingering in the back.
Well, this is awkward.
But then Logan walks over to me, stopping to get the attention of a male student that was next to me in the back row.
“Would you like to partner up with Ethan?” he asks me.
“Sure,” I respond. It saves me the embarrassment of dancing by myself. Ethan comes over to me, and we position ourselves ready to dance.
“Hey, I’m Ethan.”
“Julie,” I say in greeting.
Logan nods and continues his walk around the room, helping other couples.
“Hold onto each other’s upper arms like so.” Logan demonstrates with Tara. “Try to keep your spine straight and your chest open. Keep your elbows up and give yourself space.”
“As a follower, sometimes it’s easy to want to cave in, but don’t be afraid to open up,” Tara says, widening her arms and keeping her back straight. “Allow yourself to take up space here.”
Is she still talking about tango or my life?
Ethan and I take our positions, and this feels much more intimate than I imagined it would. Not that I imagined much, but I’m almost too shy to be this close to a stranger, putting myself into awkward positions with him. I aim to focus on my steps, to keep my head down to look at my feet.
“So, is this your first time?” Ethan asks.
“Um. Yes,” I manage, working on the basic eight count, stumbling a little as I go.
Our faces are close enough that even talking feels intimate. I pull my face back to answer but all it does is mess up my form.
“That’s okay. It takes a while to figure it out. I wasn’t very good at the beginning either, but I think I’m one of the best ones now,” he says as I try to keep my head down. Whatever cologne he’s wearing is harshly offensive to my nostrils, and his steps are hard to keep up with. He seems like the kind of guy Larissa ended up on that date with.
But the next voice I hear isn’t his. It’s Logan’s, right at my side.
