YOLO Salsa Blog: Dance Tips & Stories

You can learn the steps to a dance and still feel nervous asking someone to dance with you. You can remember a turn and forget it the moment the music starts. And you can walk into a class full of people and wonder whether you’ll find your place. That is why, for me, teaching salsa is about so much more than footwork. Yes, we learn steps. We practice turns. We work on timing and rhythm. But some of my favorite moments happen between those things. The laughter when a move does

“Will I look stupid?” It’s one of the most common fears people have before trying salsa. Sometimes they ask it out loud. Sometimes it hides behind “I have two left feet” or “I could never do that.” And honestly? I get it. Walking into a room to learn something you don’t know how to do can feel vulnerable. You might worry that everyone else already knows the steps. That you’ll turn the wrong way. That your body won’t cooperate. Or that someone will notice how hard you’re tryin

“Look where you want to go.” I say this to my son when he’s riding his bike, attempting something a little sketchy, or trying something new. Then, the other day, I realized how often I need that same reminder. I had been pondering the idea of “the magic of small wins,” waiting for something inspiring to come to me. What finally came was a phrase I had been saying all along. When you’re learning to ride a bike, it’s tempting to look down at your tire. You want to check what’s

I grew up in an amazing community that allowed me to step confidently into who I was as a child. Somehow, my parents managed to keep fear and doubt far away. There may have been some guilt here and there, but it never seemed to linger. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to realize just how easily fear, doubt, guilt, and shame can sneak in. They are so prevalent in our environment—through media, friends, family, magazines, the internet, AI, and more. These things can feel like a

“I wasn’t born to dance.” “There’s not a dancing bone in my body.” “I have two left feet.” "I have no rhythm." I’ve heard them all… and honestly, I’ve felt them too. One of my African dance teachers once told me, “If you can walk, you can dance.”And that idea has stayed with me ever since. When you really think about it, dancing is just putting rhythm to your walk. That’s it. It doesn’t have to be complicated, perfect, or polished. You just have to begin. I once heard that da

How often does the fear of being judged stop you from trying new things? Have you ever been people-watching and judged someone for being silly or ridiculous, and then months later something comes up that invites you to be silly and ridiculous too? But you stop yourself because you remember judging someone else that day. That day, you told yourself you could never do something like that. And even though today you want to let go and have fun, you can’t. When we talk about the f

I want to share something personal with you. The first step was the hardest for me. I remember being a beginner and having this deep urge to dance. I had no idea what I was walking into, but I wanted it so badly. At the same time, there was another voice in my head constantly telling me what a terrible idea it was. It reminded me of every awkward moment, every time I had felt embarrassed, every reason I might fail. For me, the hardest part was the drive to the studio. I would

A few years ago, I showed a Cuban friend a video of one of my favorite female dancers. As he watched, he said something that caught me off guard. “Her movements are masculine.” My first instinct was to disagree. I loved this dancer. I loved her creativity, confidence, and the way she took up space on the dance floor. But instead of dismissing his comment, I stopped and listened. That conversation stayed with me for years. Eventually, I understood what he meant. He wasn’t sayi

When you are learning new moves—or trying to add a little style to your dancing—mistakes are going to happen. And sometimes, they are not small mistakes. Sometimes you step on someone’s foot. Sometimes another woman’s high heel gets caught inside your shoe, and the only solution is for both of you to stop dancing and take off your shoes so you can untangle yourselves. Sometimes you bump into another dancer. Sometimes your partner leads you directly into another couple. And so

Two side effects of salsa dancing are its ability to bring joy into your heart and confidence into your stride. You may find yourself smiling and even laughing from time to time. When you first get to class you may question me on the confidence piece, but as you give it time and develop your skills, your confidence will grow and you may even stand a bit taller and find that smiles appear on your face more frequently. Once a student of mine invited me to his rehearsal dinner.

Lately, I have been reminded of just how tricky our eyes can be. The moment we see something, our minds rush to interpret it. We decide what is happening, what it means, and what we should do next—sometimes before we have taken a moment to notice what we are actually feeling. This becomes incredibly clear when you are learning how to follow in salsa. A follower may see the leader move in a particular direction and assume that they are supposed to go with them. But what the ey