Tango, Time, and the Value of Authentic Effort

A pair of sparkly stilletos, a well-cut suit, a cool tango pose on your Instagram, a few phrases in Spanish, a couple of seasons in Buenos Aires, or even a shiny trophy on your living room —these things might give an impression, but they don’t make anyone a part of tango’s culture in a meaningful way. Tango doesn’t respond to image. It demands something more real: time, effort, and honesty.

Being Argentine doesn’t automatically make someone a tanguero. Dancing for thirty years doesn’t necessarily make someone a good dancer—let alone a teacher. And spending time in Buenos Aires doesn’t turn someone into a porteño. These are identities that aren’t claimed; they’re earned over time, through consistent practice, curiosity, and a deep respect for the tradition.

One of the quiet missteps I’ve seen—and at times made myself—is trying to embody something before truly understanding it. This happens in all roles: dancers, teachers, musicians, organizers. We fall into the temptation of presenting ourselves as more “insider,” more experienced, more connected than we really are. But there’s no need. Tango is not a place where you have to pretend. It’s a place where you’re invited to become.

And becoming takes time. It means doing the work: practicing when no one’s watching, listening to the orchestras until the phrasing becomes part of your body, and slowly understanding the codes and values that have been passed down through generations—while still remaining open-minded and flexible to the changes that a new generation and evolving society may bring.

Authenticity in tango has nothing to do with how long you've been around, where you're from, or who you know. It has everything to do with how you show up: your willingness to learn, to listen, to be corrected, to grow. You can’t skip steps. And when you try, the dance reveals it sooner or later.

There’s also something else we need to remember: our responsibility isn’t just to honor those who came before us, but also to support and encourage those who will carry the torch after us. The ones just entering this world deserve guidance, not performance. They need generosity, not ego.

Wherever you are in your tango journey—newcomer, teacher, performer, musician—you’re allowed to be there, fully and truthfully. There’s space for you without embellishment. But the invitation is clear: be honest, be committed, and give it the time it asks for.

Tango doesn’t need role-playing. It needs people who care. People who are willing to put in the time, to carry the culture with integrity, and to make space for others to grow, too.

You don’t have to be from anywhere specific. You don’t need a perfect résumé, or a particular color in your passport's cover. What matters is that you show up honestly, and that you stay long enough for something real to take root.