Taking the Lead in Swing Dancing

The rules are rigid: The woman never makes a move unless the man tells her to, and he alone determines what she’ll do and when. If she jumps the gun or doesn’t follow his directive, he might drop her for somebody else.

What’s this? Cro-Magnon cave ethics? Nope. It’s the way of swing dance, whose raging popularity might lead a visitor from outer space to believe we’d never burned our bras.

Here’s the deal: Like the waltz and fox trot, and even the hipper salsa, swing’s a lead-and-follow dance. That means that, yes, the man decides what steps and patterns the couple will do. He silently signals his intent through gentle pressure, usually applied palm-to-palm.

Remember, unlike free-style, wherein partners independently devise and perform their own choreography, swing couples must coordinate their steps; two must dance as one. Somebody’s got to take charge; otherwise, chaos would reign. Remember too that couple-dancing predates feminism.

You’ll occasionally see a woman leading, but it’s extremely rare among the throngs of mostly twentysomethings who have been Lindy Hopping across America as if Benny Goodman were king again.

So what explains the enormous popularity of a past era--in the late ‘90s, no less--that never met a suffragette?

The optimistic energy of the music and of the wholesome dance itself has a lot to do with it, of course. Swingers uniformly blurt “It’s fun!” when asked why they like the art form born of a more innocent age.

But, beyond that, is swing essentially Susan Faludi’s “Backlash” set to a screaming sax? That could be part of the appeal. Sorry, Susan, but girls like to be politely asked and escorted to the floor. They like being girls. Guys like being guys.

Yet there’s more to it.

For starters, in swing, guys spend most of their time initiating moves, such as spins and aerials, designed specifically to spotlight her, not him. And, within the framework he shapes, she gets to improvise, a lot, if she’s any good.

She might double up her steps, dancing twice as fast to stay on count, or swivel her hips 60 ways to add flair to an otherwise ordinary operation.

Followers command respect for other reasons. It takes great skill and sensitivity. You have to quiet your own headstrong self down, wait for the signal, read it correctly and react accordingly. But fast. It’s all done rapidly.

It’s like listening. In conversation, if either party blocks out the other, there’s no exchange. But what joy results from a true give and take. On the dance floor, when everything clicks, when you both freeze on a beat--even without his signaling--because you’re in such perfect mental sync, you walk away euphoric, having made this all too infrequent connection with another autonomous human being. It’s especially wonderful because it’s done without words. It goes deeper.

The related sense of teamwork is rapturous, too. He may be leading, but as the saying goes, it takes two. Together, you accomplish what neither of you could ever have done alone.

If all this sounds like there’s a lot of equality going on, there is. On the other hand, not having to do all the heavy mental lifting is a pleasure. Following, in that sense, is easier than leading. He has to be creative. You get to just react. You don’t even have to improvise if you’re too spent from working all day.

There’s a certain spiritual fulfillment to be found from swing, too.

Man or woman, we’re always in control, always anxiously manipulating and managing every move we make. We fear if we don’t, we’ll fall into a black hole. Even if, enlightened, we suspect or believe that’s not inevitable, it’s often difficult to relinquish the driver’s seat.

Followers, however, must let go of control. And it’s not so daunting to the tune of Duke Ellington; it’s just a dance, after all, not a deadline or a job interview or a mortgage rate. Even if an epiphany doesn’t exactly result, loosening the reins can bring a touch of transcendence.

The truth is, I regularly employ a practice that my mom probably never tried when the boys came home from war. I ask guys to dance. Dancing always beats sitting.

But, once we’re out there, if I don’t let him lead, forget it. I won’t be dancing with him again. If word gets out, I won’t be dancing much at all. But I don’t mind those old-fashioned rules at all. Strike up the big band.