
Meet the women who study pole dancing in modern Shanghai
Tutu, originally from Hainan, is both a student at S-pole and an assistant manager, helping to teach classes alongside Hai Xiaohan, the school's founder. For her, and many other young women in Shanghai, pole dancing has been an important means of discovering herself. Tutu
'I saw a pole dancer abroad,' says Tutu. 'At that time, I thought that I also wanted to be as beautiful, sexy and powerful as her, so the first thing I did when I came back was find a school. Later I felt that I liked myself more and more, and every time I practiced, I felt like I was having a conversation with my body, that I had no physical limitations. Even in my normal life, I started to feel more confident when I went out, and it was the first time I really loved my body.'
Lena, who works in marketing, is another student at S-pole. For her, pole dancing is the next in a long of sports – 10 years of karate, six of muai thai, two or three of weight lifting. But pole dancing has been the most transformative.
'You feel the spiritual changes after you start dancing,' she says. 'Right now I'm learning my feminine side. I'm a tomboy in my daily life, so when I first started pole-dancing I did it like martial arts, extremely brutal, dancing like I wanted to fight and kill people. My coach says I've got work to do, but I'm making progress.'
That said, like millions of office workers studying dancing, yoga, boxing or rock climbing around China, Lena's greatest motivation is a practical one. 'Actually, I do it because I want to eat more food.'
In America, pole dancing is generally associated with night clubs – but in China, strip clubs don't exist. Rather, S-pole feels similar to any other exercise studio, but one where students hang in seemingly impossible positions from rotating poles positioned on the floor. They flip in the air, bodies held at a 90 degree angle or testing the limits of human flexibility while energetic techno music throbs in the background.
'Pole dancing looks great but it's very difficult,' says Lena. 'A lot of people have bruises or injuries, and some have even gone to surgery. You need to be very firm as a person to do this. In Chinese we call this jianren [resilience].' Lena Yingying
Why work so hard? Some of the most dedicated students are studying for competitions in Japan, Korea or Hong Kong, but a majority are there for different reasons.
'I'm under a lot of pressure at work,' says Yingying, 41, who works for a chemical company. 'I'm a typical person with kids at home. I just work all the time, and family is very stressful. Pole dancing is really interesting, and it helps me to balance my life.'
'Work is really stressful for me,' says Juzi, an employee of a state-owned company, 'and I need to dance to relieve the pressure. I guess most of the students here are company employees doing something like that.' Juzi.
But pole dancing isn't just exercise. It's also erotic, seething with an edge of danger and occasional controversy. And for a special kind of person, that's also its appeal. 'Some of my peers, born in the 80s or 90s, might think pole dancing is a little too sexy, too non-mainstream,' says Yingying. 'But the ones born in the late 90s and 2000s—they want sexiness and there's nothing wrong with that.'
In fact, says Hai Xiaohan, founder at S-pole and one of China's rare male pole-dancers, the students are part of a larger shift in China as a whole. 'People's minds are changing. It's not like before when we were limited to one thing. These days people just love themselves more, they pay more attention to themselves, and that's important.' Hai Xiaohan
'The people here are very open-minded,' says Tutu, who proudly posts videos on the internet for not just her friends but family. In previous years, this might have resulted in a wave of criticism – but, now, the students don't have to keep what they're doing a secret. 'We don't care about what others think. We're a group of people who love themselves very much.'
In Lena's case, pole dancing has led to a connection in a very surprising place – the office. 'The owner of my company has been pole dancing for six years, and she's in her 40s. We take classes together; in thirty minutes we're practicing together for a competition.'
'There hasn't been any criticism,' says Juzi. 'My parents are conservative people, but when they see me dancing, they think it's cool and good.'
But twenty years ago?
'No way,' says Yingying. 'Things are completely different now than they used to be.'
While friends and family have been largely supportive, the strongest criticism has been directed towards students who post videos online. Fortunately, many of the responses have remained subdued. 'Some people might want to criticize me,' says Yingying, 'but a lot of the comments aren't made public, so I just ignore it.
In other cases, the criticism can become more personal. 'Online,' says Lena, 'a lot of the best praise is from women but mostly the slut shaming is also from women. It feels bad when you're doing this impressive thing, then your own people are turning against you.'
'There's nothing wrong with my videos,' says Tutu with a laugh. 'I think I'm just too sexy! But sometimes the very sexy videos don't get much traffic or followers, because they can make people uncomfortable, or people might think what we're doing is something bad.'●
Another problem, Lena says, is the male gaze itself, which has always been the perceived audience of pole dancing. 'The thing is, men watch and they assume you're doing it for them, but that isn't right. The way I see it – they can watch it, but their opinion isn't the one that matters. I dance for myself and if I want to post a video, that's for me too.
That said, sometimes reaching the right audience can make it all worth it.
'My grandma really likes the videos I post,' says Tutu. 'That surprised me, but I think it really means something.'

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AllAfrica
8 hours ago
- AllAfrica
Meet the women who study pole dancing in modern Shanghai
From outside, China is often portrayed as a demure, conservative country. But inside a Shanghai pole-dancing school tucked at the far end of the hall in an otherwise nondescript office building, a different side of the city is revealed. Only a wall of boots is visible beyond the door … although, amid the loud music playing at all hours, on occasion visitors on occasion might glimpse a scantily clad figure walking in high heels from one end of the hall to another. Tutu, originally from Hainan, is both a student at S-pole and an assistant manager, helping to teach classes alongside Hai Xiaohan, the school's founder. For her, and many other young women in Shanghai, pole dancing has been an important means of discovering herself. Tutu 'I saw a pole dancer abroad,' says Tutu. 'At that time, I thought that I also wanted to be as beautiful, sexy and powerful as her, so the first thing I did when I came back was find a school. Later I felt that I liked myself more and more, and every time I practiced, I felt like I was having a conversation with my body, that I had no physical limitations. Even in my normal life, I started to feel more confident when I went out, and it was the first time I really loved my body.' Lena, who works in marketing, is another student at S-pole. For her, pole dancing is the next in a long of sports – 10 years of karate, six of muai thai, two or three of weight lifting. But pole dancing has been the most transformative. 'You feel the spiritual changes after you start dancing,' she says. 'Right now I'm learning my feminine side. I'm a tomboy in my daily life, so when I first started pole-dancing I did it like martial arts, extremely brutal, dancing like I wanted to fight and kill people. My coach says I've got work to do, but I'm making progress.' That said, like millions of office workers studying dancing, yoga, boxing or rock climbing around China, Lena's greatest motivation is a practical one. 'Actually, I do it because I want to eat more food.' In America, pole dancing is generally associated with night clubs – but in China, strip clubs don't exist. Rather, S-pole feels similar to any other exercise studio, but one where students hang in seemingly impossible positions from rotating poles positioned on the floor. They flip in the air, bodies held at a 90 degree angle or testing the limits of human flexibility while energetic techno music throbs in the background. 'Pole dancing looks great but it's very difficult,' says Lena. 'A lot of people have bruises or injuries, and some have even gone to surgery. You need to be very firm as a person to do this. In Chinese we call this jianren [resilience].' Lena Yingying Why work so hard? Some of the most dedicated students are studying for competitions in Japan, Korea or Hong Kong, but a majority are there for different reasons. 'I'm under a lot of pressure at work,' says Yingying, 41, who works for a chemical company. 'I'm a typical person with kids at home. I just work all the time, and family is very stressful. Pole dancing is really interesting, and it helps me to balance my life.' 'Work is really stressful for me,' says Juzi, an employee of a state-owned company, 'and I need to dance to relieve the pressure. I guess most of the students here are company employees doing something like that.' Juzi. But pole dancing isn't just exercise. It's also erotic, seething with an edge of danger and occasional controversy. And for a special kind of person, that's also its appeal. 'Some of my peers, born in the 80s or 90s, might think pole dancing is a little too sexy, too non-mainstream,' says Yingying. 'But the ones born in the late 90s and 2000s—they want sexiness and there's nothing wrong with that.' In fact, says Hai Xiaohan, founder at S-pole and one of China's rare male pole-dancers, the students are part of a larger shift in China as a whole. 'People's minds are changing. It's not like before when we were limited to one thing. These days people just love themselves more, they pay more attention to themselves, and that's important.' Hai Xiaohan 'The people here are very open-minded,' says Tutu, who proudly posts videos on the internet for not just her friends but family. In previous years, this might have resulted in a wave of criticism – but, now, the students don't have to keep what they're doing a secret. 'We don't care about what others think. We're a group of people who love themselves very much.' In Lena's case, pole dancing has led to a connection in a very surprising place – the office. 'The owner of my company has been pole dancing for six years, and she's in her 40s. We take classes together; in thirty minutes we're practicing together for a competition.' 'There hasn't been any criticism,' says Juzi. 'My parents are conservative people, but when they see me dancing, they think it's cool and good.' But twenty years ago? 'No way,' says Yingying. 'Things are completely different now than they used to be.' While friends and family have been largely supportive, the strongest criticism has been directed towards students who post videos online. Fortunately, many of the responses have remained subdued. 'Some people might want to criticize me,' says Yingying, 'but a lot of the comments aren't made public, so I just ignore it. In other cases, the criticism can become more personal. 'Online,' says Lena, 'a lot of the best praise is from women but mostly the slut shaming is also from women. It feels bad when you're doing this impressive thing, then your own people are turning against you.' 'There's nothing wrong with my videos,' says Tutu with a laugh. 'I think I'm just too sexy! But sometimes the very sexy videos don't get much traffic or followers, because they can make people uncomfortable, or people might think what we're doing is something bad.'● Another problem, Lena says, is the male gaze itself, which has always been the perceived audience of pole dancing. 'The thing is, men watch and they assume you're doing it for them, but that isn't right. The way I see it – they can watch it, but their opinion isn't the one that matters. I dance for myself and if I want to post a video, that's for me too. That said, sometimes reaching the right audience can make it all worth it. 'My grandma really likes the videos I post,' says Tutu. 'That surprised me, but I think it really means something.'


HKFP
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