Reflections on My New Tango Home

Since moving to this city, I’ve been dancing at this particular milonga for about two years. The dance floor is a rectangular space, approximately 45 feet long and 30 feet wide. Typically, 40 to 50 people come here to dance, most of them seasoned tango dancers in their 50s, 60s, and 70s, with a handful of younger or less-experienced participants. The gender ratio is approximately 27 men to 23 women, putting the men at a slight disadvantage. Interestingly, a couple of women prefer to lead, and most men tend to avoid dancing with these female leaders, which exacerbates the shortage of followers.

Most women here are familiar with cabeceo, though a few are not, and these women receive fewer invitations as a result (see Women’s Role in Cabeceo). Apart from a handful of exceptions, most people dance in a traditional close embrace, and dancers with different styles rarely partner up. Overall, this milonga has an above-average dance level, which I really appreciate. However, the sense of community could be warmer. In America, this isn’t unusual—people come here to dance, not necessarily to form deep connections. By contrast, in Buenos Aires, a group of people who dance together regularly will quickly form strong bonds.

I regularly dance with most of the women here, though there are a few I haven’t danced with—not because I don’t want to, but because they haven’t shown any interest. My rule is simple: I only dance with women who are friendly and open to dancing with me. If someone acts dismissive, I don’t ask them to dance. I’m not entirely sure why some women seem aloof. Do they have very high standards? Do they only dance with fixed partners? Do they think that invitations are only a man’s job? I prefer not to assume the worst because I believe most people are genuinely kind. One possible explanation is that they are socially inexperienced or lack cabeceo skills. Regardless, I have my principles, and since I’m not lacking partners, I haven’t danced with them yet (see Tango Etiquette: Eye Contact, Talking, Clique and Hierarchy).

There’s a sizable tango community in this city, and this milonga, with its seasoned dancers, often attracts visitors. However, these visitors rarely return, perhaps due to the lack of a warm and welcoming atmosphere I mentioned earlier. I’ve also visited a few other milongas in this city, but the dancers there tend to avoid engaging with newcomers, so I didn’t stay either. It’s a common issue, and I believe there is room for improvement. Some possible solutions might include encouraging people to greet each other before the dance begins, providing cabeceo education, prompting everyone to dance at least once with someone new, or requiring dancers to rotate partners during the first tanda after the break. These small changes could help break the ice and foster a more inviting environment (see Tango Is a Fellowship).

To me, a good milonga requires three essentials: an amicable atmosphere, experienced dancers, and good music. There are several DJs here who mostly play classic tango hits from the Golden Age. While a few have unique tastes that don’t always align with mine, most DJs strike a good balance in their selections. Overall, I’m satisfied with the music here, though I think the selection quality could still improve to make this milonga even better. It’s not about novelty—it’s about choosing tracks that are great for dancing. The more classic and familiar the music, the better—this is akin to playing musical instruments, where well-loved pieces often resonate best with both players and listeners. I don’t understand why Pugliese is rarely played here. Considering most dancers here are experienced, adding more Pugliese might be a thoughtful touch (see My Two Cents on Music Selection).

Tango and Trust

Trust forms the foundation of human social life, acting as the glue that binds relationships and society together. Our need for trust arises from our inherent vulnerabilities, personal limitations, and interdependence. As social beings, humans seek trust-based connections that foster cooperation, teamwork, and mutual support—both physical and emotional. Trust fulfills not only practical needs, such as collaboration for survival and success, but also emotional needs, like overcoming loneliness and finding safety and connection. It is the mechanism through which we navigate vulnerability, form bonds, exchange support, and maintain social harmony. Without trust, we would struggle alone, unable to manage these fundamental aspects of life.

Tango, in particular, satisfies this universal need for trust, which is one of the reasons for its enduring popularity. As a dance of intimacy, connection, and surrender, tango transcends mere enjoyment or performance. It provides a sanctuary from loneliness, a space to express vulnerability, and an opportunity to seek solace in another's embrace. In tango, we long to touch and be touched, to lean on someone's shoulder, and to quench the thirst for connection and love. Dancing tango requires complete trust between partners, so that they can fully engage and immerse themselves in the experience. Tango heals psychologically by allowing us to expose our vulnerability and inner selves. This exposure or openness requires trust. Without it, dancers cannot give themselves completely, nor can they reap the emotional and psychological rewards of the dance.

On a practical level, trust is equally essential in tango because this dance relies on close physical contact, non-verbal communication, and mutual reinforcement to execute the movements, requiring dancers to be physically and mentally attuned to each other and trust that their partner will always be there for support. Trust sets dancers free. If trust is lacking, dancers can become self-conscious and tense, holding back emotionally and hesitating to let go. Unfortunately, this lack of trust remains a persistent challenge in our tango.

This struggle with trust in tango mirrors a broader societal issue. The erosion of trust in American society stems from a confluence of factors: rampant selfishness, systemic corruption, economic instability, heightened stress and competition, rising inequality, high inflation, commercial fraud, cybercrime, partisan divides, ideological conflicts, and media-driven misinformation. These forces create an atmosphere of suspicion and distrust. American culture prioritizes self-reliance, individual achievement, and personal success. People often focus more on their own needs and strategies than on moral considerations and collective well-being. This heightens tension, competition, and mistrust between individuals. As people face economic hardships, political polarization, and widespread deceit, they grow guarded, wary of manipulation and betrayal. This pervasive mistrust spills over into personal interactions, making it challenging to embrace the vulnerability that tango demands. When we don’t trust, we disengage, choosing alienation and control over connection and cooperation.

Tango offers profound lessons in the value of trust. In a world where trust is increasingly fragile, this intimate dance reminds us that human connection and cooperation are only possible when we trust each other. By embracing trust on the dance floor, we might rediscover how to restore it in the wider world. Confucius recognized trust as one of the essential human virtues, alongside benevolence, justice, propriety, and wisdom. Tango, with its foundation in trust, serves as a powerful reminder of these qualities and a means to rebuild faith in our shared humanity. Through this dance of vulnerability and connection, we can relearn how to rely on one another. Tango teaches us the joy that comes from surrendering control in the right context, reminding us that not every moment requires us to be in charge. Often, the most profound fulfillment lies in trusting each other and moving together in harmony.