Dancing queens

21/11/14

A decision to hang out downtown with some friends turned into a random afternoon exploring an art college where we watched some student presentations and stumbled on a ballroom dancing competition. The competition was a stroke of luck while waiting for the art class to finish preparing their presentations we spotted some girls in sparkly dresses on the street below. We went to investigate and somehow managed to sneak our way into the dance hall (it was closed to the public). We found ourselves in the midst of couples all lined up waiting anxiously for their turn to dance.

I found their faces most intriguing to watch: some looking nervous and jittery; others with a fierce look of concentration; some were counting during the dance; others had pasted a smile on for the judges. You could usually tell how their dance had been judging by their faces as they came off the dance floor: some looked close to tears while others were elated.

The girls’ outfits were also a point of interest: bright swooshing skirts, open backs, glitter and sparkles everywhere, fake long lashes and gelled hair with flowers and tassels woven in. Even after exiting the dance hall, we stayed sitting on the sidewalk for a long time watching the dancers coming and going. As we were leaving, the girls had changed into some more carnavalesque outfits with flashy colours, short skirts with tassels, shakers or frills and a bit of animal print.

A dancer checking out her competition while waiting her turn.

photo credit: Frances Wintjes Clarke

One girl in particular drew my attention, because unlike the others, she was not a stick figure. She had more Mongolian features with a very round face, big cheeks, broad shoulders and wide hips. She had a very generous smile and secretly I hoped that she would win. I wondered how the others might perceive her: if she gets teased or discriminated against for her size (she was about my size, so not fat, but big in comparison to most Chinese people) or if it is seen as normal? I also wondered how much their appearances counted for in the dance competition: were their appearance and outfits also being judged? Were the costumes mandatory? What would happen if someone just showed up off the street wearing no makeup and the clothes they wear to go to work and just started dancing? Would they be judged the same way as the others based on their ability as a dancer or would they be disqualified because of their appearance?

After the ballroom show, we found a group of breakdancers practicing in a park. Their leader was a young woman with a peculiar hairstyle, baggy clothes and visible tattoos. She was intriguing in part because she was the first Chinese person I saw with tattoos and in part because she was one of the rare women in China I saw that wasn’t girlish. Attitude usually comes with being a breakdancer, but it was refreshing to see a woman not acting out the role of a delicate flower for once.

On the way home, I chatted with a buddy about the film her group had watched on the cultural revolution (Farewell my concubine). As we discussed some of the horrors of the cultural revolution, the buddy told me that Mao was not to blame, but that his wife, Jiang Qing, was responsible. “According to official Chinese history [Jiang Qing] shoulders the blame for the evils of the cultural revolution” while Mao remains their infallible great leader who can do no wrong (Schaffer & Xianlin, 2007). Of course, there is nothing surprising about the woman being blamed for history’s mistakes. And while Jiang Qing certainly did do some bad things, it should be recognized that she wasn’t acting alone.

While researching influential women in Chinese history, I found that most famous women who at some point seized power were portrayed negatively in the annals of history. Women like Wu Zetian and Cixi who were two of the most powerful women in Chinese history are described as power hungry and ruthless villains; however, as Wikipedia helpfully points out, “she was no more ruthless than other rulers” at the time. It all comes back to the whole double-standard thing where if a man acts aggressively then he is showing strength and being a good leader, but if a woman acts in the same way than she is labelled a villain and a b*tch.

Not to mention that women are often discredited by attributing their success to their beauty rather than their skills or cleverness. Both Wu Zetian and Cixi were considered beautiful and started off on their road to power as concubines. Mao also had a preference for young, modern, pretty women like Jiang Qing who started off as an actress and became the face of the revolution as the head of the Communist’s Party Propaganda Department (Ip, 2003). Myths like the four beauties reinforce this idea that women must “exploit” their beauty and sexuality in order to gain power by seducing, manipulating and even distracting their opponents. Under the cultural revolution the “deployment of feminine beauty for political ends” was known as the “beauty tactic” in which women used their appearance to advance the political and ideological goals of the revolution (Ip, 2003).

Even today beauty plays a significant role in establishing power and women in politics are often scrutinized and discredited based on their looks. It all comes back to what our buddy said: that if a woman isn’t beautiful enough, then no matter what she does it will never be good enough. This has got to change. There are some brilliant and beautiful minds out there, who regardless of their physical appearance, deserve to have their ideas, their talents and skills recognized and appreciated. These people have something real and valuable to contribute to the world and it both disgusts and saddens me when their work is minimized and cheapened by superficial concerns. Like my hypothetical dancer from before; she could be the most phenomenal dancer out there, but if she doesn’t look the part then she probably won’t win the prize…

Ip, H.-Y. (2003). Fashioning Appearances: Feminine Beauty in Chinese Communist Revolutionary Culture. Modern China, 29(3), 329-361. DOI: 10.1177/00977004032

Schaffer, K. & Xianlin, S. (2007). Unruly Spaces: Gender, Women's Writing and Indigenous Feminism in China. Journal of Gender Studies, 16(1), 17-30. DOI: 10.1080/09589230601116125

Dancers and performers reliving their glory days in People's Park, Chengdu