I Tried Pole-Dancing Like J.Lo in Hustlers—and It Changed My Life
Aside from loving makeup and a dramatic cheekbone highlight, I don’t have much in common with Jennifer Lopez. She is an actual goddess, whereas I am a mere mortal. She is an international icon, whereas fans don’t stop me in the streets for autographs. This changed very recently, however, when Lopez was cast in Hustlers, a movie about strippers based on New York magazine’s article, “The Hustlers at Scores.”
She’ll portray an exotic dancer alongside Cardi B and Constance Wu, and to prepare for her role as Ramona, J.Lo has began to take pole-dancing lessons. As a person who’s been obsessively taking pole classes as a form of fitness for two years, this made my heart sing.
Lopez has taken the job seriously, going on a 10-day challenge to not consume any carbs or sugar, training with an instructor from Cirque du Soleil, and even installing a pole to practice on at home. “It’s very hard! I have bruises everywhere. I have a lot of respect for people who do the pole,” the World of Dance judge told Jimmy Kimmel. “It’s like acrobatic, it’s different muscle groups and the things that they can do with their legs and go upside down-I’m like, what? It’s hard.”
J.Lo gets it: pole-dancing is not easy at all. The sport requires unbelievable strength in your core plus tons of coordination. And if you’re working a pair of inches-high Pleaser heels like she does, good luck not rolling your ankles or stabbing yourself with the end of the stiletto. But while Lopez and celebrities like FKA Twigs have helped the sport gain momentum in pop culture, it doesn’t come without scrutiny. While my close friends think pole is difficult and fun (both true), my hobby has led to nasty comments online from people I haven’t spoken to in years.
“Love the pole-dancing, very sexy! When are you planning to become a full-time stripper?” a guy from my 9th grade math glass asked me on Instagram. I shot him back an angry response. “Hello, dude who used to call me ugly in school. It’s been a while since you last bullied me. First of all, exotic dancing requires tremendous amounts of emotional strength and people skills, not to mention the ability to de-robe while twirling upside down with one leg hanging out. My skills aren’t perfect, but I admire those who have them.”
He never replied, though I will note that each time I post a 15-second clip of a new trick I learned in class, he watches it.
Like the obnoxious guy from my high school, pole dancers-both amateurs and professionals-like me often have to defend ourselves from negative stigma. People assume that we are consequently strippers, a profession that requires a different (and arguably more difficult) skill set-or sex workers. But in my opinion, such bias shouldn’t exist.
According to the Sex Workers Outreach Project USA, a national advocacy organization, sex work is defined as “any type of labor where the explicit goal is to produce a sexual or erotic response in the client,” and yes, that includes prostitution and similar work that organizations like Amnesty International have tried to decriminalize globally for years.
But for me, pole is a hobby, an athletic sport akin to lifting weights. It’s not something I do for a living, although there is nothing at all wrong with those who choose to make ends meet from the sport. It’s a job, just like J.Lo’s role as an actress playing a character is a job. Both jobs are valid.
Last August, North Carolina middle school teacher Kandice Mason was suspended from her job when a video of her side hustle as a pole-dancing instructor-an off-hours gig she had to make additional income-was leaked to the parents of her students. Her situation could have happened to me, or any of my fellow pole friends. The silver lining for her, though? In an interview with Poletry in Motion, she shared that an investor reached out to help her open her own pole studio.
“Most people have a very singular understanding about pole-whether it’s through the circus, as a profession in strip clubs, as a fitness craze, or through competitions,” says New York-based pole instructor Kirstin Dahmer. “They’re all valid, and they’re all awesome, but there is so much more to it.”
As co-owner of Incredipole in Brooklyn, where I take classes, Dahmer and her business partner Sharon Goldberg opened the studio in 2016 to establish a sense of community for those interested in the sport. “Some people take only exotic classes where you wear heels and learn to articulate movements. Others want to learn new tricks, or just want to work out because it’s more fun than the gym,” she says. “Whatever their reason, I have found that most people are in it for themselves.”
And she’s not wrong.
I started taking pole-dancing classes because I was in a self-doubting headspace and had negative views about my body. Pole seemed like a positive and empowering activity, one I’d feel less anxious about than going to the gym. Frankly, I just thought it was cool-and I wanted to explore a medium where I could dance and simply feel good about myself.
Quickly, I fell in love with the idea that you can twist your body into crazy shapes while flipping upside down to hang by one leg and dance fluidly on a vertical chrome rod. During intro classes, I learned how to spin, and basic forms of climbing. From there, I began focusing on tricks, intent on flipping over and getting upside down. Eventually, I started branching out into classes centered around movement, or combining the aforementioned elements in a foolproof way.
I kept going back and found myself supported by a community of new friends trying things I wouldn’t normally have. Instructors like Carmine Black taught me to feel with intention, while Berna Osso taught me to wake up in the morning and honor the things my body liked doing. To my surprise, I soon became the person who works out in the morning before heading to the office. Both physically and figuratively, I shed layers. I was fully clothed during my first few classes, but as I became more comfortable with pole and my body, the workout gear started to get smaller. Besides, it’s easier to stick to the pole when more skin is exposed.
Most importantly, pole changed my perspective about my body. The thighs I used to be so insecure about now saved me from hitting the ground when I practiced drops. The arms I thought looked weird were becoming more toned from climbing and inverting and planking, and I was both physically and emotionally stronger. One of my proudest moments is when I used my arms to confidently wedge open the closing doors of a subway train I needed to step into, watching people behind me stay put. I felt like a superhero.
Even on bad days, I became proud of myself when I was finally able to nail a trick I’d been practicing for a while. Pole was the first time I felt good enough at something to actually perform it in front of people, which I eventually did alongside some of my closest friends in a Spice Girls-themed routine for Incredipole’s two-year showcase. My friends may find my Instagram video clips annoying, but dammit, I work hard to face my fears of falling and busting my teeth-so you bet your ass I’m going to post these on the internet.
Now, whenever I’m hit with a wave of insecurity, I take a minute to have a “remember who you are, Simba” moment. I’ll tell the negative voice in my head to be quiet and focus on the tricks I’ve landed that I previously didn’t know where humanly possible. If I can excel and feel confident at pole, why can’t I embrace that kind of confidence outside of the studio? If I’m bruised and sore-either emotionally, or from a pole-I tell myself I’m as strong as the guitar solo in that Nine Inch Nails song my instructor blasted at my last practice.
Ultimately, it’s my hope that the stigma associated with pole starts to melt away. Instead, I want people to recognize the sport’s artistry, plus all of the athletic work that goes into it. Whether someone is dancing on a pole either professionally at a club or, like me, taking classes to become stronger, the decision to do so is valid-not something that should come with shame or criticism.
If Lopez ever finds herself in Brooklyn, I can only hope she’ll come visit me at Incredipole. ‘Til then, I’ll be busy rallying each of my friends to see her, Cardi B, and Wu in Hustlers come 2020. I have no doubt that when that movie premieres, you’ll see exactly what I’m talking about.
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