TL;DR
- A gay Chinese man finds empowerment through voguing.
- Voguing helps him reclaim his identity and confidence.
- The dance form serves as a resistance against invisibility.
- He reflects on his journey from Chengdu to Columbia University.
- Voguing is a celebration of self-acceptance and community.
Why are you here? This question echoed in my mind as I stood in front of the mirror, high heels pinching my feet, sequins gleaming under the spotlight. For years, I felt invisible in a world that often shunned boys who dared to dance. Growing up in Chengdu, China, I was that lone boy in ballet class, surrounded by girls who couldn’t understand my passion. I thought ballet was beautiful, but to my classmates, it was simply strange. So, I hid. I faked illness to avoid talent shows, terrified of their judgment.
But everything changed when I arrived at boarding school in Massachusetts. I stumbled into the voguing club, drawn by my crush, Alex, a mesmerizing professional voguer. I had no idea what voguing was, but I wanted to be near him. As I awkwardly mimicked his moves, I felt a shift within me. The boy from Chengdu was fading away, replaced by someone braver, someone who dared to be seen.
When I finally stepped on stage, I was terrified. The audience was a blur, but I could hear laughter—not the cruel kind, but a surprised, delighted sound. I felt exposed, vulnerable, yet exhilarated. After my performance, Alex offered a simple compliment, “Not bad,” and my cheeks flushed with pride. For the first time, I felt a flicker of acceptance.
But my journey wasn’t without its struggles. Back home, being gay was a shameful secret. Families expected sons to marry women, and any deviation from that path was met with disdain. Though legal persecution of LGBTQ+ individuals in China ended years ago, social stigma still looms large. I had known I was gay since I was twelve, but revealing that truth felt impossible.
Fast forward to my first semester at Columbia University. I spotted a poster for a voguing class by the renowned Alvin Ailey dance troupe. My heart raced. This was my chance to fully embrace who I was, far from the judgmental eyes of my family. I auditioned, and the studio felt like home. It was a melting pot of colors, body types, and ages, all united by a love for dance.
Marcus, my instructor, stood before us, his presence commanding. “Why are you here?” he asked. I realized I was there to discover the essence of who I truly am. Voguing became my language, a way to express what I had long suppressed. It transformed my fear into fierce angles and my insecurities into powerful postures. It was no longer about imitation; it was about survival.
Voguing has its roots in Harlem dance halls, a vibrant expression born from the Black and Latino transgender communities. It’s a celebration of those who have been marginalized, a space where anyone rejected for being different can find acceptance. Each time I step onto the dance floor, I choose not to shrink but to shine. This power is not handed to you; it’s earned with every performance, every pose.
Today, as I reflect on my journey, I owe a debt of gratitude to Alex and to voguing. Through this art form, I’ve found a version of myself that is unapologetically visible, someone who stands tall in heels and doesn’t seek approval from anyone. So, put on those heels, swipe on that mascara, and move like nobody’s watching. Ask yourself, “Why are you here?” If the answer makes your heart race, then you’re ready to dance. The moment you embrace visibility is the moment you truly begin to live.
Xingchi (Jim) He is a first-year cognitive science student at Columbia University whose writing explores queerness, identity, and cross-cultural self-expression.