This Portland dance group is breaking gender norms and creating community with free Latin dance lessons

On a Wednesday evening in May, the White Owl Social Club buzzes with more energy than usual. The bar’s covered patio is packed with small clusters of people waiting for the night’s main event: a free Latin dance lesson hosted by Queer Baile.

Run entirely by volunteers, Queer Baile offers nongendered, queer-centered Latin dance classes designed to create an inclusive space for all. The monthly classes alternate between cumbia and bachata. The next lesson — a cumbia night — takes place at 7 p.m. July 16.

Founded by Lydia Greene in 2019 under the name Queer Salsa, the group originally met at Doc Marie’s, a lesbian bar in Portland’s Central Eastside. But as crowds grew, so did the need for space. Relocated just a few blocks away, the monthly dance night has found a new home at White Owl — and attendance has surged in recent months, organizers said.

“One of our biggest classes at Doc’s, when I was counting, was like 30 people, and that was barely enough room to move your body with another person,” said Kylie Davis, a cumbia instructor. “And now at White Owl, we’re close to 100.”

The lesson begins with a brief history lesson on the dance style for the evening. Cumbia music and dance — instructor Sarah Arias explained to attendees on May 21 — originated in Colombia as a mix of Spanish, Indigenous and African cultures.

“One thing I always talk about in our class is that cumbia started in Colombia, but has gone throughout all Latin America adopting different styles and sounds,” Arias said. “There’s no one type of cumbia.”

Arias, who is of Mexican heritage, grew up dancing cumbia norteña, a northern variation of the dance. Introducing the style into the Queer Baile community was a moment of pride and cultural joy for her.

“We threw our first cumbia norteña, and I didn’t even think anyone was gonna have an interest in it,” Arias said. “I was just so nervous to introduce something so near and dear to my heart. It was such a beautiful moment and I love sharing that amongst everyone here.”

Attendees form rows facing instructors Arias and Davis, beginning with simple steps. From there, working with a partner comes almost naturally. The basic step involves holding hands and moving together to the beat. A lead can twirl their follow to add a bit of spice.

Queer Baile’s other monthly dance class, which focuses on bachata, follows a similar structure. Originating in the Dominican Republic in the mid-20th century, bachata was once linked to the lower socioeconomic classes and is now celebrated for its romantic rhythms and intimate movements.

Moves like “the cuddle,” as bachata instructor Anna Schneider describes it, begin with a spin and finish in a close, back-to-front hold. While the bachata steps add some complexity to the class, instructors say both cumbia and bachata lessons are beginner-friendly.

At the end of each one-hour lesson, the space transforms into a social dance floor where dancers can practice their newly learned steps and meet other participants.

The group’s volunteer instructors come from a range of dance backgrounds. Some grew up with Latin dance, while others discovered it more recently. But among all organizers, the same passion and love for the community and dance is evident.

“Queer Baile ​​is where I found my family in Portland,” Schneider said. “I think the main part for a lot of people is just the community that they find coming to classes. No one’s trying to become a professional dancer by doing the classes. It’s purely for the fun joyful aspect.”

Arias, who grew up learning baile folklorico, a Mexican folk dance style, recalls young girls taking on male roles from a young age to fill roles that would be empty.

“We almost never had boys,” Arias said. “They were hard to find, hard to commit to. So whenever we needed anyone to dance in male roles … girls would stand up and do the male roles.”

But as the girls grew older, that dynamic became less common. Women were expected to follow while men would lead. This gendered dynamic is common in most adult dance lessons.

“There’s so many dance classes where I show up and I very much want to be the lead,” Arias said. “Because I love leading, but then by default, because I’m female presenting, assigned to follow.”

At Queer Baile lessons, anyone can lead or follow — and no one needs a partner to attend. The classes follow a social format, meaning partners rotate throughout the lesson. Focusing on nongendered and consent-based dance has created a much more comfortable and accepting space for many, organizers said.

“The space feels way less intimidating than a lot of dance scenes can feel,” Karen Ceballos, a bachata instructor, said, highlighting that in many traditional dance communities the style of instruction can be “either very hyper masculine or hyper feminine. And that doesn’t always resonate with people.”

The Queer Baile community is also a space to celebrate intersectionality, Davis said, within the predominantly white city of Portland.

In Portland, 11.3% of the population identified themselves as Latino in 2020 while 70.1% identified as white, according to U.S. Census population estimates. Across the entire state, 14.9% of the population identifies as Hispanic or Latino.

While there is no demographic information for the city’s queer population, a 2015-2017 poll by Gallup reported that 5.6% of Oregon’s adult population identifies as LGBTQ+. No current data explores Portland’s LGBTQ+ community or the intersection of racial demographics.

“I think for me personally, it’s always felt like a very divided choice,” Arias said. “It’s either I can go amongst queer community where I don’t really see myself or my culture represented very heavily, or I can go to Latin spaces where I don’t feel my queer identity is welcomed or even celebrated in the same way.”

Creating an accessible and welcoming space for queer Latinos has always been the group’s driving force — even if it means instructors volunteer their time so the lessons can remain completely free. For now, lessons are held once a month, but organizers hope to offer them more frequently.

“We’re just a bunch of friends in a group chat, making it happen every couple weeks,” Davis said, emphasizing the queer joy that the group creates. “Especially in the current political climate and how the world is right now, I can rely on Queer Baile to make me feel good no matter what’s going on in my personal or external life.”

If you go: 7-8 p.m. lesson, 9-10 p.m. social dance; July 16; White Owl Social Club; 1305 S.E. 8th Ave., Portland; @queerbailepdx on Instagram.