Is Power Finite?

Perhaps this idea is tied to our “scarcity complex”. In our consumerist and materialistic society, we are conditioned to fear not having enough, not being enough. That if one person has more, I will have less. That for me to have more, someone else has to go without. And so it seems with power: we seem to think of power as a dichotomy of the powerful and powerless. How can we have two equally-powerful participants in the dance? And for leads whose masculinity was the definition of power, their thinking might be, “If I want my partner to have more power, I have to give some of my power away”.

While chatting over mate with a friend one afternoon, we started talking about this very thing. He explained to me his definition of what it means to be an “active follow” and like most things tango, he said, “Here, let me show you.” We stood and composed our tango embrace, he in the role of “active follow”. “You lead,” he said. I lead a few steps and then he said, “Ok, my turn”. Without changing the configuration of our arms, he started initiating movements. This was fun and then like in any good conversation, what he was saying with his body gave me a flash of inspiration! I jumped back in the conversation adding my two cents, like you would when someone tells you something really interesting you’d like to add to. “No, no, no,” he said – I think he even waved his finger, “I’m not done yet.”

Not to mention that this took my little bubble of inspiration and totally deflated it, like poking a hole in a balloon, it felt so artificial. Like pass the talking stick. As if we were to push a button, “Ok, you talk”, “Now you talk”. And all reinforcing the idea that if I’m speaking no-one else can move a muscle; no-one else has power.

Another day at the studio, also exploring this same idea of dancing more actively in the feminine role, somewhere mid-tango, my friend took a step toward me and mid-step the music inspired me to add a little more density to our movement. I gave him some resistance. Rather than taking my energy and using it to continue the movement and create something together, he stopped dead in his tracks, even retreated a bit. It’s like he was hyper-sensitive to try to “allow” space for me to say something, to give me room to speak. But in doing so, in handing over the mic, it felt as though he left me on stage in front of an empty room. If you give me the mic and leave the room, does it matter that I have the mic?

Power is not finite. Why can't we be active together, at the same time, working toward a common goal?