When I was a
whitewater river guide it was not unusual to run into hillbillies with
guns. More than once a shot was fired in my direction but not with the
intent to kill, only to put the fear of God in me. Whatever the intent, the act was irresponsible and dangerous.
I became interested in dancing when I saw a movie, Born Romantic, that featured salsa dancing at a club in London. I was no
stranger to guns when I finally learned how to salsa dance. I was not surprised when I was searched for weapons with a
metal-detecting wand at many of the salsa events in the towns on the eastern
half of the Pocono Mountains of Pennsylvania. A lot of New Yorkers lived in these communities and they were well-versed on the latest security procedures used in the night clubs of the Big Apple. Coming from the western side of
the Pocono Plateau, I assumed everyone had a gun and that the desire to keep
them out of the places where people danced was a good thing, especially since I
was usually the only gringo in the hall.
After a
year of searching for a decent place to dance salsa, I decided I was doing more
harm than good. My presence at many of these events caused the participants a
lot of discomfort. Though I was never approached, I rarely danced. The men were
uneasy because they felt obligated to protect their women from the outsider and
the women were on edge because they knew the men were going to do something
stupid on an occasion where everyone was supposed to be relaxing after a hard
week of work.
All I
was trying to do was to find a place to dance, the style did not matter. When I
started, I assumed there was dancing everywhere. I learned that a good dance
place was a very special thing and a lot harder to find.
Once I
quit salsa dancing, I tried ballroom and swing. I found a good swing place in
Allentown (http://allentownswing.org/)
but the ballroom dancers were either too snotty or too old. Shortly after I
found the good swing club I took up tango.
Today we
have a big debate going on in our country about guns in our society. It is my
experience that the people with the guns are afraid. Folks that move up to the
mountains from the city are fearful of wild animals and the absence of law
enforcement officials. Small town Americans going to the city are certain they will be
attacked by gang members, drug dealers or worse, so they bring guns
with them whenever they move to Urbana.
Unfortunately
these are not the people having the debate. The people for and against gun
control are the braggarts and gun manufacturers on one side and the victims of
gun violence on the other. Eventually the former group will lose because our cavalier attitude towards weapons ensures an ever growing pool of victims.
The
braggarts have no fear because they have not yet experienced pain. They are
usually single men with few responsibilities and very little to lose except
their guns. There are responsible gun owners but they don't do enough to counteract the stupidity emanating from the young bucks among them or from the firearms industry.
The victims of gun violence essentially become the
walking wounded. They have no fear because they live in constant pain and cannot
be hurt any worse. I meet them when I dance tango. Their agony is evident and
deep but they do not want to talk about it. To discuss it brings them anguish
which is one of the many reasons we should not talk when dancing tango. The
hurt usually forces them to withdraw for a while from the community but they eventually
come back, sometimes through tango and always as forceful advocates
against the proliferation of guns.
It is my
belief that many people come to tango because they are wounded. They are in
need of healing and tango welcomes them, literally with open arms. They are
saying, “Hold me, I am hurting. Let the melody carry my pain for a little while
and allow me to relax while I enjoy the warmth of your body. I will listen to
the sound of your breathing and try to remember what it was like to live
without this constant ache.”
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