William, a rather enlightened dance colleague of mine has a rather amusing analogy for the more extreme cases, comparing those dancers with pre-adolescent stamp collectors. Their stepping out onto the dance floor is the equivalent of saying, "Hey, look how many stamps I've got!" "No, I don't care what condition they're in." "Order? Who says I've got to put them in order?"

I was bending my feeble intellect to understanding this craving for moves, when the final piece of the puzzle concerning technique was given to me by Andreas (an inimitable combination of German rock and rolling research chemist plus salsa instructor).

I understand that many people use the number of moves that they know (aka. dance vocabulary) as a yardstick for measuring their development. And yes, it's extremely important for students to be able to measure their own progress. However this emphasis on moves has polarised the dance education market, and it is easy to see why teachers teach the way they do. They're only catering to demand.

Techniques on the other hand are much more ephemeral than moves. It takes a student of much greater self–understanding to take adequate stock of the quality of his or her dancing. That's because good methods are used so often that they automatically become a part of you, and you tend to take them for granted, forgetting that you actually have them. To appreciate what you have at the present moment requires you to remember what you were like before. It's something that most of us would sooner forget.

There is, however, a way to have your cake and eat it. It comes from understanding the phrase "turn combination". It implies that a turn combination is made up of smaller elements, including turns, that are put together. Instead of teaching one combination at a time, students would benefit from being taught the individual elements and how to link them. This would greater empower the students with respect to creating their own combinations. Hence the adage: give a man a fish and he eats for a day, teach him to fish and he eats for a lifetime. Once the need for learning combinations has been reduced, focus naturally shifts to how to execute the elements and links more effectively.

The lamentable thing is that this approach is not new. It has existed in the Argentine Tango in Buenos Aires for a time immemorial. After more than ten years in this country, the teaching of salsa here shows little sign of developing in that direction. What holds back its introduction I believe, occurs on the parts of both the teachers and students.

The cynic in me would say that teachers at a commercial level tend to do what's easiest for them. Putting combinations together and teaching them is easy when you know how. And so long as the students never acquire the ability to generate their own moves, they'll keep coming back for more. Teaching an audience that is already capable of creating their own combinations is a very different kettle of fish altogether.

On the other hand, a significant proportion of students just want to be taught and don't want to learn. Learning requires much more active brainwork, chewing over information instead of being spoon-fed. Many people who take up dance do so because they want to relax, and the last thing they want is to be subjected to a mental assault course. I understand that. However, I do believe that there is room for the kind of classes that cater to those who do want to learn. I've been fortunate enough to run a special class for such individuals. And yes, the process does work. Even aspects of dance that I thought could only be acquired, such as creativity and musicality can be taught.

So isn't it time that we, as dance teachers, took a positive step in helping our students become aware that moves are but a short paragraph in the story of dance? And that if you focus too closely on a small part of a picture, you don't get to see the whole thing.