Is Power Masculine?

Power is masculine, or that to be powerful, you need to assume a masculine role or masculine qualities. We live in a social paradigm that equates power with masculine definitions of what power is. And we often play into this without even realizing it.

I’ve heard women say that they want to lead to have more control of the dance – the musical expression, the movements, even the ability to invite people to dance. If we think that to be powerful as a woman, you have to act more masculine, then it would make sense to want to lead to have more power. LEADER = TRADITIONAL MALE ROLE = POWER, or more masculine = more powerful

One evening, I was at Dance Underground just up the hill here, and a woman asked me to dance. She knew that I also lead, so she asked if we could switch off lead and follow with each song. Why don’t you lead first, she said. Ok. We established our embrace, shifted weight a couple of times to calibrate with each other, and started walking. All was going alright until… we came to a turn. As soon as I initiated a turn, she took off like a runaway dock cart! A few more steps and another wild turn. Each time I’d start what I intended as a gentle turn, she would take it and run. I felt a little like I do playing Mario Kart or some of the race car games with really sensitive steering, when my little car keeps falling off the track and into the lava. I figured I had two options: I could try to fight her energy and subdue her, tame her and force her into listening to me – which sounded like a lot more work than it’s worth; or I could go with her energy and even add to it to make it into something collaborative. I chose the latter, so we went spinning around the dance floor like Tasmanian devils. After all, I came to dance, not fight.

We paused between songs as is customary to do. As we released our arms to begin the usual chit chat, she stepped back and said to me – she had the audacity to say to me – “Well, that was…” she searched for the word, “groovy.” Implying somehow that the crazy spinning around the dance floor was somehow my idea! Wait a minute! I thought to myself, She’s blaming me for this?! After all, I was “the leader”. I filled in my back and as we embraced for the second tango – this time with me as the “follow” – and planted my feet, taking in a full breath. I made myself dense and steady. It was as though I expanded my presence. Bracing myself, I gave her enough resistance to show her A) I’m not running around this dance floor (like a chicken with my head cut off), and B) this is how I’d like to dance. She must have gotten the message, because the next dance when we switched roles again, she was a totally different dancer. She was patient, she listened and I think we both danced better together.

Most importantly for me, I realized that I had a lot more “control” of the dance in the role of the “follow” in this situation.

If people want to switch roles to switch roles – because they like the lead role, great! But if they are switching roles to feel more powerful, to be “in charge”, to tell their partner what to do, I think they’re missing something.

Feminine traits and power are overlooked and undervalued. I wonder how much our society loses out by defining power this way?