It may have started with the Pagans, dancing around a Maypole every spring, but it’s modern start was strip clubs in Canada in the 1980s, then the UK strip bars in the 1990s, and now, my gym in Park Slope, Brooklyn.
For nearly thirty years, pole-dancing has spread in popularity across Europe, the United States, and Australia. There are international and national competitions, classes, amateur performances, and strip bars and clubs that feature this dance form. While many still think of it a sexual and sensual act, it is now gaining recognition and respect as a singular dance form for fitness, fun, and self-expression.
Pole dancing is simply dancing around a vertical metal pole—swinging, climbing, dangling, and hanging. It looks easy, but after taking my first pole dancing class on a cold day in January, I soon realized just how hard it was.
I started taking classes on a whim. It was Saturday, January 12, 2008, and I was using a weight machine at the gym. As I lifted and lowered my legs on the seated quadriceps machine, I looked straight ahead into the dance studio, and saw two-dozen women pole-dancing to flickering lights and loud music. My jaw dropped, my eyes widened, and I said out loud “I have to try that next week.”
The following Saturday, I walked into the dance studio, and sat in for my first class. One of my instructors, Lucey welcomed the class, and immediately we got to work—shoulder rolls, stretches, crunches, yoga poses, and lots of butt-shaking. And this was just the warm up. By the end of the class, I knew how to spin, “pop” my butt by moving it up and down, walk around the pole, and shake my hips.
Lucey, 30 is a dance and movement therapist, and has been teaching pole-dancing since August 2007. Her first experience was also at the gym, where she took the Strip Bar class. “I became obsessed immediately,” she says. She took pole dancing classes for a year and half before teaching it.
She says class is a place for women to appreciate each other’s bodies in a safe performance space, away from the male gaze.
My other dance instructor Kyra , 28, is a choreographer and has been a pole-dancing instructor for two years.
Kyra tells students “enjoy yourself,” as she moves her hips back and forth, crouching down, and standing up as she tells us to “drop it likes it’s hot.”
Often, we will see her demonstrating how to walk around the pole as she rolls her head around, saying “Hey, hey, enjoy yourself, love it, love yourself.”
Kyra says she likes pole dancing because “It’s like being able to be a gymnast, express myself, and it’s still a dance form. And, you get in touch with your own sexuality.”
Lucey adds, “It creates a community of people feeling a part of something…express[ing] sexuality in a safe way,” she says.
This support and safety is never more obvious. Each pole is surrounded by a “pole team” of three to five women, depending on class size. And there is one rule that Lucey points out: support your teammates. As we practice our spins, climbs, and hip shaking, we cheer and clap for each other.
“Come on, squeeze!” said one classmate to me as I struggled to climb.
“Way to go! I see you! Work it,” another says as I slide my torso against the floor.
Aside from feeling great struttin’ your stuff, there are also many fitness benefits to class. Pole dancing takes a lot of upper body and core strength. Climbing could not be done without strong lower abs and shoulders, and hanging upside down takes inner thigh and core strength. Spinning requires strong arms.
For me, the class is an emotional and physical challenge I thrive on. I’ve struggled with my weight since high school and what I perceive as “sexy.” Always feeling chubby and somewhat awkward, never “hot” confident, I associated those attributes only with scantily clad skinny girls on the dance floor. It wasn’t until this class that I started to feel strong to the core (literally). Nothing builds your self esteem like seeing women with big butts (like you!) dancing in small spandex shorts, feeling confident and beautiful. As my strength improved, I pushed myself farther and farther. By week three I was able to lift myself up. By week five I could climb halfway up the pole. By week seven, I could climb to the top. Now I can hang upside down (by creating figure four with my legs around the pole). I am working on kicking my legs up to grab on the pole and hold myself upside down.
The group looks forward to the free style dance at the end of every class- a minute-and -half to perform on the pole, any trick, spin, climb, or booty shake. Kyra flickers the lights and Lucey cranks up the music. I use this time to explore my groove, find my style. It can be sexual, or graceful or silly.
I’ve learned that my hair can add “sass” to any performance, that my body can be both sexy and strong. That exercise can be fun.
In April, then again in May, I entered an amateur competition at a lesbian bar in Brooklyn. In April, the judges awarded me the prize of “most likely to succeed in Pole Dancing.” In May, I won the competition, and a $100 gift card. One of the judges recognized me and said “you have definitely improved since last time. Your overall performance was great.” But the best compliment of all, what when an African American woman complimented this white Jewish girl on her butt-shaking, “Girl, when I saw you, I didn’t think you could do that. Wow.”
While some people (like my parents) find it strange that I enjoy pole dancing, it reminds me of the stigma still attached to it. Then I show them my biceps and my chiseled abs. When my friends see how I present myself, and my new-found confidence on the dance floor, they ask me “So, can I take class with you?”
