A talk by Xin Ying on the strength inherent in emotions, presented at TEDxFuxingPark Women, a Shanghai-based event exploring women’s leadership, embodiment, creativity, and social change
- Feb 9
- 5 min read

Hello everyone. My name is Xin Ying. I am a contemporary dancer.
Today I want to share with you the power of authenticity.
This power of authenticity exists in our emotions, but it manifests in our bodies.
You might think, isn’t the power of emotion a kind of mental or spiritual power?
But what I’m talking about is something that truly happens in the body.
Think about it:
When we cry, our bodies feel uncomfortable.
When we laugh, we laugh so hard our stomachs hurt.
When we’re angry, our hair stands on end and we feel ready to burst through barriers.
So the impact emotions have on us is very real and physical.
A great pioneer of modern dance, Martha Graham, once said:“Movement never lies.”
When she was very young, she once told a lie and her father—who was a psychiatrist—caught her.
She wondered, “I made my story complete and logical—how did you know I was lying?”Her father told her, “Because your movement betrayed you.”
From that moment on, “movement never lies” became her creative truth.
Over her lifetime, she created 181 works and made an enormous contribution to modern dance: the Martha Graham Technique.
Let me help you experience it briefly.
When our emotions rise, our breathing changes.
Graham discovered this connection.
Try this: breathe out continuously.
You’ll feel your abdomen tightening, as if energy is gathering.
This is called contraction, one of the core techniques.
Then, from that contracted state, find your spine, inhale, and release—stretching outward.This is release, another core technique.
So congratulations—you’ve just learned the core of the Graham technique.
As women, we are expected to be loving, inclusive, brave, fearless, and strong.
But let’s think about what stands on the other side of those words: fear, vulnerability, jealousy, hatred.
Do these really not exist in our bodies?
I invite you to imagine this scene with me.
It’s a pitch-black night.
You must enter a labyrinth filled with thorns—that alone is terrifying.
And the task isn’t just to walk through the maze—you must kill a monster.
Who wouldn’t feel fear?
This scene comes from Greek mythology: Theseus entering the labyrinth and killing the Minotaur.
Martha Graham transformed this story into a classic work called Errand into the Maze.
But instead of sending a brave male hero into the maze, she sent a woman.
The woman begins by protecting herself at center stage.
Suddenly she feels a chill down her back, her fear rising, constantly doubting herself.
When fear seems inescapable, she finally gathers the courage to push open the door and enter the maze.
Inside, she battles the Minotaur three times before finally triumphing.
This is not a mythologized hero’s story—it is a very real woman’s story.
We can use the movement of pushing open the door to freedom to imagine what it feels like to be wrapped in fear—and then, finally, to make the decision to push it open.
So the next time you feel fear, think about courage—
the moment just after you push open that window.
Now let’s return to love and tolerance.
We’re told a “good woman” should be loving and forgiving.
But imagine this situation:
You fall deeply in love with someone.
You give up everything for him—leave your family, run away from home, have two children. And then, for the sake of his career, he abandons you and marries a younger, more beautiful woman.
At that moment, do you still only feel love and tolerance?
I know that if I had no jealousy or hatred, that wouldn’t be real.
This is the Greek myth of Medea.
Medea is considered an unforgivable character.
In revenge, she not only kills the princess, but also the two children she had with her husband.
We say even a tiger will not eat its own cubs—
yet Graham placed such a woman at the center of the stage, because she believed this, too, is part of human nature.
The role includes two important solos: the Dance of the Cup and the Dance of the Wind.
When I performed this role, my artistic director told me:
“You must dance the Cup Dance all the way through—only then will people understand why you do what you do.”
The piece is thirty-five minutes long.
I worried I wouldn’t have the strength to finish.
But when extreme hatred burns through your body, even if you’re exhausted, you go mad with energy and keep dancing.
That fire gave me strength.
So ask yourself—are Medea’s emotions hers alone?
No. They are real physical responses, shared by all of us.
Perhaps we think that admitting fear, jealousy, or hatred exposes our weaknesses and makes us vulnerable.
But does vulnerability mean weakness?
I want to share one of my favorite Graham exercises, called Pleading.
Imagine saying, “I beg you.”
As the movement reaches outward, the body curves and the abdomen contracts, creating a fragile beauty.
The most vulnerable parts—the inner wrists—are exposed, yet the core of the back and abdomen is incredibly strong.
True vulnerability requires great strength.
This movement powerfully trains the core muscles and is excellent for developing abdominal strength—you can try it at home.
In 2019, to commemorate the 100th anniversary of American women gaining the right to vote, the Martha Graham Dance Company created nineteen power poses.Among them was the movement of pushing open the door to freedom.

In the final image, women of different backgrounds, emotions, and stories stand together—all powerful.
Our emotions are as real as the blazing summer sun, as real as winter’s cold wind. But like solar and wind energy, they can also generate power.
Finally, I want to share one more story.
Martha Graham’s breakthrough work Lamentation, created in 1930, was not initially well received. A woman sits inside a tube of purple fabric, moving very little. Many people found it ugly.
But she didn’t give up. She trusted her vision.
Later, while performing in Brooklyn, a woman in the audience approached her, eyes red from crying. She said, “Martha, you have no idea what you did for me.”
Her nine-year-old child had been killed by a truck, and since that day, she had been unable to cry.
No matter what her family and friends tried, she couldn’t.
Until that day—watching Lamentation—she finally cried.
She realized that grief is an emotion worthy of respect—an emotion worthy of honor.
From that moment on, Graham understood:
As humans, our emotions are layered and complex.
Every emotion deserves respect and dignity—because this is the essence of being fully alive.
We can transform emotion into energy, into creative inspiration, and continue forward in an imperfect life.
Today, I invite you to face your emotions, use them, and become your true self—a feeling self, a powerful self.
Thank you.