Being a Man: One Dance Step at a Time

In the past year I have delved deeper and deeper into the world of swing dancing, and as I've advanced in skill, I've begun to take short jaunts over the gender line and begun to lead instead of follow.

Last weekend in a swing class I decided to take on my greatest opponent yet and attempt to learn the male part of the lindy hop. As it took six months of regularly making a fool of myself to learn the girl part in this step, I assumed this would be an arduous and painful process. However, the boredom that would be induced by going through my umpteenth beginner’s lindy lesson as a follow was not to be tolerated. I had no choice; I must bury my pride and be a man.

When I first walked across and joined the "man's" side of the lesson I received some incredulous looks. As the instructor told us to pair up his eyes paused on me for a second and he said slowly "So.... you are a man?" "Yes I am" I said with confidence. I was not confident, but I was not about to let this MAN go thinking I was afraid of being a man. "I know plenty of men," I thought "this can't be that hard."

But it was. There is so much to think about when you are leading; especially when you are leading a girl who has no idea what she is doing (and is, not to mention, much taller than you). And there is all this pressure. With every hiccup in the process I could almost hear the girl thinking "You're the lead, you fix it." I became tense. I could feel my face contort into the strained expression I see on so many of the men I dance with. This was very hard, but I was determined to be a good man. I focused in. I will lead well. I can be a man.

First I was told I wasn't being clear enough in my leading. So, I tightened up. Next thing I know, I am being told that I am "man-handling" my follow. Despite the fact that this was a criticism I couldn't help being a little pleased at the thought of my getting in trouble for being overly masculine.

After much trial and error I am pleased to report to you that by the end of the night I had the lead's side of the lindy hop down pat. The last girl I danced with told me I was better than most men she knew at being a man.

No offense to any of you who have spent long years learning to be men, but I can't say I'm surprised. I always had a sneaking suspicion that I could be a man if I just put my mind to it.