In her study on the salsa dance club in Texas, Kapchan (2006) noted how the participants would often lead different lives within the club and in relation to the people at the club than they
would outside. The dancers would no longer need to adhere to certain social or gender roles, and the latter were changed, shunned or newly appropriated within the space of the salsa club. In the classroom, everyone is a flamenca, and regardless whether or not she thinks of herself as a danc- er outside the classroom, this is a place where no one challenges it or considers it to not even be an option. However, lives outside of the classroom are not completely discarded. Occasionally personal announcements are made, such as pregnancy and events important to that person; how- ever, they are usually connected to flamenco in some manner. Pregnancy will become obvious within months and will result in missed classes. Another woman talked about her attending the University of Georgia, because she would drive over an hour every Saturday morning to attend class, and traffic would occasionally make her late. We also learned she would participate in a beauty pageant, but we only learned this because her talent was to be flamenco dancing. Any other personal information would be learned outside of class, in a different environment. The women lead dual lives, even Lorena, whose time appears to be consumed by flamenco dance al- so makes a living through graphic design at a company downtown. Some of the women have physical maladies, and find the flamenco community to be a satisfying space of therapy. Due to an accident, a former violinist suffered serious injuries, and could no longer play her instrument. She found flamenco to fill the creative void left by the accident and she also enjoyed performing something that she felt reflected her heritage as a Spaniard. The women have found a communi- ty, a group in which they accept each other as flamencas and whatever follows next in their for- mation of themselves, rather than having to address the past in order to find their future. The women are aware of the special bonds created in this space, and, for many of them, these are lasting bonds. One dancer wrote an article on JaleOlé discussing the very topic of a bond lasting beyond the period of the class. Another dancer had a slightly different opinion on the bonds
created. She felt very close to the women in the class, but said that, if she were to spend time with them in a context outside of the flamenco community, she would feel slightly uncomforta- ble.
The participants in the flamenco class are diverse, and all share liminality in their lives outside the dance school. Victor Turner (1969:95) defines liminal individuals as “neither here nor there; they are betwixt and between the positions assigned and arrayed by law, custom, con- vention, and ceremony”. The flamenco class offers an “other space” (heterotopia) where the marginalized notions of the self can convene in a sanctified way. As Foucault (1967) suggests, we do not live in empty space, a void in which objects may be placed in or moved. The spaces in which we live and interact have sets of relations, and that space is heterogeneous, affected by our time and our history. Through practice, the women create meaning and a shared history through both their shared difference and their shared interest in the space of the class. Just as Kapchan (2006) describes, this shared difference has allowed for these women to create a “home” within the walls of the flamenco studio which lies within the larger “anti-home” of Atlanta. Participants in the dance class are from distinct parts of the world such as Russia, Chile, India, Japan, Spain, Mexico and the United States. These people are not related to those countries by heritage, but they have immigrated to the United States from theses places; hence, the liminality experienced by them is very specific in ways that a second or third generation American might not necessari- ly experience. Immigrants and other individuals who live actively between two or more cultures tend to experience greater liminality than people who have been rooted in one place for longer. The dancers range in age from early twenties to mid-forties and all physical-markers of a social hierarchy from outside of class are left at the door. The space functions as a heterotopia (Fou- cault 1967), or “other space”. The dance class has a function in relation to all the space outside of
the room, because in contrast to the outside, the flamenco class is a safe space, where passion and emotion can be freely expressed. The rituals that are expected of the dancers to participate in to gain figurative entry and prove their devotion isolate it, but the space is vulnerable to penetra- tion by those who do not partake in the ritual. Anyone may grant themselves entry through the literal act of walking into the space and disrupting the atmosphere. When the dancers walk into the room they all perform the same routine- specific skirts are placed over pants, and most im- portantly the dancers must change shoes. Changing shoes is one of the most marked rituals and events that transform the dancer from the outside world of Atlanta to flamenco. Students are di- rected to wear the shoes only when dancing, and so once they are placed on, you cease to be who you were and you become a flamenca. Inside the dance studio, there are no age relations in re- spect to who needs to be treated more respectfully; there is simply a student/teacher relationship to be respected. However, even with the student/teacher relationship being performed, there is still a sense of equality within the room. The teacher is to guide and direct, but she is also a per- son with whom the dancers may be direct with and speak to on the same social level as any of their peers. The ways in which the dancers interact within the confines of the flamenco class create meaning on the other space. The fantasy of becoming a flamenco dancer is no longer an imagined space; it rather takes a counter-position to the space usually occupied by the dancer outside of the classroom. Upon entering the classroom, the dancer has crossed a particular boun- dary that pulls the imagined fantasy into the realm of reality. I have experienced this boundary crossing on many occasions during different periods of my life. I dreamed of what it would be like to be a dancer, and when I see myself in front of the mirror, I experience a transformation. Seeing my clothes and where I am changes me- I am a dancer. Inside the dance studio it does not matter what job or position the dancer may have outside the studio, and it is not known what
each dancer’s life outside the studio exactly is. In the studio it is simply not discussed, and it is not necessary to be that person, only to accept that all together they become part of one larger and flamenco identity.