The Story Behind Sunisa Lee’s Unique Floor Routine Choreography

Sunisa Lee captivated the world at the Tokyo 2020 Olympics, becoming the first Hmong-American gymnast to win an all-around gold medal. While her technical brilliance on uneven bars and balance beam is well documented, it is her floor exercise that has ignited the most discussion. The routine defies conventional expectations in elite women’s gymnastics, blending classical Asian dance, modern jazz, and deeply personal storytelling into a single, cohesive performance. This article explores the creative journey behind that floor routine—examining the cultural roots, the collaborative process with choreographers, and the lasting impact it has had on the sport of gymnastics.

From the opening notes of Hmong folk music to the final pose that hints at ancestral embroidery, every element of Sunisa’s floor routine was deliberately chosen. It is a routine that does not merely showcase athletic ability; it tells a story of heritage, resilience, and identity. As the gymnastics world continues to evolve toward greater diversity and individuality, Sunisa’s floor work stands as a landmark moment—one that proved that cultural authenticity and elite athleticism can coexist beautifully.

Who Is Sunisa Lee?

Sunisa Lee was born in 2003 in Saint Paul, Minnesota, and grew up in a close-knit Hmong family. Her parents, John Lee and Yeev Thoj, emigrated from Laos as refugees, carrying with them a rich cultural legacy. Sunisa started gymnastics at age six, and by her early teens she was already a standout. Her breakthrough came in 2019 when she won silver on floor at the U.S. National Championships and earned a spot on the senior national team. But it was at the Tokyo Olympics, delayed to 2021, that Sunisa truly became a household name. After Simone Biles withdrew from the all-around final, Sunisa stepped up and delivered a stunning performance to win gold. She also took home bronze on uneven bars and a team silver, plus an individual bronze on floor exercise.

Beyond the medals, Sunisa has become a symbol of representation for Asian American and Hmong communities. She regularly credits her family’s support and her heritage as the foundation of her success. Her floor routine is the most visible expression of that pride—a carefully crafted homage that resonates far beyond the gymnastics arena. For many young athletes, especially those from marginalized backgrounds, Sunisa’s journey proves that there is room for authenticity at the highest levels of sport.

The Inspiration Behind the Routine

The seed for Sunisa’s floor routine was planted long before the Olympics. She wanted a routine that felt genuinely hers—not just another set of movements set to generic pop music. She looked to traditional Hmong dance, which often tells stories of community, nature, and perseverance. In interviews, Sunisa has said that she wanted to bring something completely new to the floor, a style that had never been seen before in elite gymnastics. That vision required collaboration with choreographers who understood both gymnastics artistry and cultural sensitivity.

Her choreographers, Dominic Zito and Amy Chow, embraced the challenge. Zito, a former dancer with a deep background in contemporary and jazz, had worked with many top gymnasts. Chow, the 1996 Olympic silver medalist on balance beam, brought decades of competitive experience and a sharp eye for what the Code of Points requires. Together, they helped Sunisa distill her ideas into a routine that would meet the strict scoring demands while retaining its cultural soul. The opening sequence—slow, deliberate, with pointed toes and flowing arm waves—is directly inspired by Hmong folk dance. In particular, the gestures mimic the movements of a qeej player (a bamboo mouth organ) and the intricate stitching patterns of paj ntaub (traditional embroidery). These references are subtle yet powerful; for Hmong viewers, seeing those motions performed on the Olympic stage is profoundly moving.

The music was equally critical. Sunisa chose a blend of “Taste of Hmong” by Kaos Vang and “Dhoom Dhaam” by Sivamani. The first track uses traditional Hmong instruments and vocal styles, while the second adds a driving Bollywood-inspired beat. This fusion creates a dynamic arc: the routine begins with lyrical, meditative phrases, builds into explosive tumbling, and then returns to calm. It is a narrative of struggle and triumph, mirroring Sunisa’s own journey as an athlete and as a representative of her culture.

The Creative Process

Building a floor routine for elite competition is a meticulous, months-long enterprise. For Sunisa, the process began with selecting the music, then layering choreography and tumbling passes in stages.

Music Selection

Music sets the emotional foundation. Sunisa and her team listened to dozens of tracks before settling on the final fusion. The Hmong portion of the music had to be authentic—not a Westernized approximation—so they worked with musicians who could provide traditional recordings. The challenge was to blend two different cultural soundscapes without creating a jarring transition. The solution was to use a gradual shift: the Hmong section fades into the Bollywood-inspired beat as the routine progresses, allowing Sunisa to mirror that shift in her movement quality. The music is not symmetrical, which is unusual for gymnastics routines (most use a clear A/B structure), but it creates a continuous narrative arc that enhances the artistic score.

Collaboration with Choreographers

Dominic Zito and Amy Chow brought complementary strengths. Zito focused on the dance elements, helping Sunisa refine her lines, gestures, and facial expressions to match the cultural themes. He spent hours teaching her the proper hand positions and shoulder rolls typical of Southeast Asian dance. Chow, meanwhile, concentrated on ensuring that every movement met the Code of Points criteria for artistry and that the tumbling passes were integrated seamlessly. The process involved weeks of experimentation: adjusting timing, trying different transitions, and repeatedly practicing even the smallest wrist flick until it felt natural. Sunisa often rehearsed late into the night at the Midwest Gymnastics Center, perfecting the routine until every gesture was second nature.

One of the biggest challenges was the opening sequence. Traditional Hmong dance is slow and grounded, while gymnastics floor routines usually start with a burst of energy. Zito and Chow advised Sunisa to hold the opening pose for an extra beat, letting the audience absorb the cultural reference before launching into the first tumbling run. That pause became one of the most talked-about moments of the routine, as it immediately signals that this is not a typical floor exercise.

Designing the Tumbling Passes

The tumbling must meet high difficulty for elite scores, but it also must not disrupt the choreographic flow. Sunisa’s routine includes a front layout to two front fulls, a triple twist, a double layout, and a split leap full. The sequencing was carefully crafted to match the music’s dynamics. The first tumbling run occurs after the slow opening, using the music’s buildup to create a dramatic release. The second pass happens during the driving Bollywood section, with fast-paced music propelling the energy. The final pass—a double layout—lands just as the music reaches its final chord, allowing Sunisa to hold a finishing pose that mirrors the opening. Each tumbling element also had to be safe given her ankle injury, which required modifications to reduce landing impact. The team substituted a simpler front tumbling combination for the second pass to protect her ankle, yet the routine still scored well.

Key Elements of Her Choreography

What sets Sunisa’s floor routine apart can be broken into three core components.

  • Music Choice: A deliberately blended track that merges traditional Hmong folk music with contemporary Bollywood beats. The lack of symmetry creates a continuous story rather than a disjointed loop.
  • Dance Style: A hybrid of classical Asian dance (shoulder rolls, precise hand gestures, flowing turns) and modern jazz movements. The result is elegant yet explosive, reflecting both grace and power.
  • Personal Symbols: Sunisa incorporates motifs that carry deep meaning. The opening hand gesture mimics an embroidered flower pattern from Hmong textiles. A small salute after her second tumbling pass is a tribute to her father’s unwavering support. Rhythmic claps evoke traditional Hmong storytelling circles.

These elements are not decorative—they are integral to the artistic scoring under the Code of Points. Routines that demonstrate a clear theme and emotional connection receive higher artistry marks. Sunisa’s choreography excels because it is genuine; she is not performing a role but sharing a piece of herself.

Cultural Motifs in Detail

To truly appreciate the depth, consider the opening pose: Sunisa stands with one arm extended, fingers curved as if holding an invisible blossom. This gesture is common in Hmong dance, representing beauty and nature. Later, she executes rapid spins with arms outstretched, mimicking the motion of a qeej player. Even the leotard design incorporates embroidery patterns inspired by Hmong textiles, often with floral and geometric motifs. These details might escape casual viewers, but for those who recognize them, they transform the routine into a powerful cultural statement. Sunisa has said that the best feedback she receives is from young Hmong girls who tell her they felt seen and proud when they watched her perform.

The Impact of Her Routine

Sunisa’s floor routine was a sensation at the Tokyo Olympics. In the floor final, she scored 13.700, earning the bronze medal behind Jade Carey and Vanessa Ferrari. But the routine’s influence extends far beyond the scoreboard. It sparked widespread conversation about diversity and representation in gymnastics. Many fans noted that they had never seen an Olympic floor routine that so explicitly honored a non-Western culture. Gymnastics journalist Blythe Lawrence wrote that Sunisa’s routine “redefined what artistry can look like on the floor,” highlighting the emotional resonance that comes from authentic storytelling.

Reactions from the Gymnastics Community

Judges praised the routine for its “emotional engagement” and “originality,” both of which align with the Code of Points’ growing emphasis on artistry. Simone Biles, who has supported Sunisa throughout her career, called the floor routine “one of a kind” in a post-Olympics interview. Coaches and fellow gymnasts took note: Katelyn Ohashi publicly admired the blend of cultural elements, while Jordan Chiles said it inspired her to incorporate more of her own personality into her routines. Social media exploded with clips from the Hmong community, showing young gymnasts attempting to replicate Sunisa’s moves. For the Hmong people—a community that has often been marginalized—seeing their traditions celebrated on the Olympic stage was a moment of immense pride. Sunisa later said that the most meaningful compliments come from parents who tell her their children now feel proud of their heritage because of her.

Challenges and Adaptations

Despite the routine’s success, it was not without obstacles. Sunisa dealt with a persistent ankle injury throughout the Olympic season, which forced her to modify her tumbling passes. The team had to design safer landing sequences that maintained the routine’s energy while reducing joint impact. This meant rewriting parts of the choreography to insert a front layout step-out instead of a full twisting layout, and adjusting the timing to allow for a breath before the next element. Sunisa showed remarkable adaptability, working with her coach Jess Graba to find solutions that preserved the essence of the routine. That resilience is part of why the performance resonates so deeply: it is not just a display of skill, but of determination in the face of physical limitations.

Changes Over Time

As Sunisa transitioned to collegiate gymnastics with the Auburn Tigers, she continued to perform her iconic floor routine, though with adaptations. The music remained essentially the same, but the choreography was adjusted to fit college rules (which allow longer dance segments and different timing). The college version includes a more extended opening dance phrase and slightly reduced difficulty in tumbling—a double layout became a double pike, for instance. Yet she still uses the same cultural gestures, including the flower hand and the salute to her father. This evolution shows that the routine can adapt to different contexts without losing its heart. It remains a fan favorite at Auburn home meets, often drawing the loudest cheers.

Comparison to Other Gymnasts’ Routines

To appreciate Sunisa’s routine, it helps to compare it with typical elite floor choreography. Many gymnasts choose upbeat pop music or classical pieces, with choreography rooted in ballet or jazz lines. Sunisa’s choice to use traditional Hmong music and dance is a stark departure. Another notable routine with cultural roots is Katelyn Ohashi’s 2019 floor exercise, which incorporated hip-hop and soul, but that was rooted in American pop culture. Grace McCallum, another U.S. teammate, often performs with a more straightforward ballet-inspired style. The contrast highlights how Sunisa’s routine is uniquely personal and culturally specific, giving it a distinct identity that resonates beyond the sport. Even within the Asian-American community, Sunisa’s routine stands out: it is not a generic “Asian-inspired” routine but one that draws from a specific, underrepresented tradition. This specificity is what makes it groundbreaking.

For those who want to explore deeper, here are several resources that provide additional context:

The Legacy of the Routine

Sunisa Lee’s floor routine is more than a performance—it is a statement. It challenges the long-held assumption that elite gymnastics must conform to a narrow, Western-centric aesthetic. By blending athleticism with cultural identity, Sunisa has created a blueprint for future gymnasts to express their own backgrounds and stories. Her influence is already visible: look at routines from gymnasts like Jordan Chiles (who infuses hip-hop personality) and Konnor McClain (who incorporates ballet with personal touches). The shift toward more individualized choreography can be traced in part to the path Sunisa paved. In addition, the U.S. gymnastics federation has begun emphasizing cultural competence in choreography workshops, partly in response to the positive reception of Sunisa’s routine.

In the years to come, this floor routine will likely be remembered as one of the most iconic of the 2020s. It is a reminder that gymnastics can be both technically demanding and deeply human. Sunisa did not simply perform a routine—she shared a piece of her soul, and the world applauded. For young athletes from non-traditional backgrounds, her example offers hope that they too can bring their full selves to the competition floor and be celebrated for it.

Conclusion

Sunisa Lee’s floor routine is a masterclass in combining sport with storytelling. From the melodic notes of Hmong folk music to the precise, culturally rich dance movements, every second of her performance is intentional. She worked tirelessly with her choreographers to ensure that the routine highlighted her strengths and honored her roots. The result is a routine that elevates gymnastics artistry and sets a new standard for cultural representation in sports. For fans, judges, and aspiring gymnasts, Sunisa Lee’s floor routine demonstrates that the most powerful performances come from the heart. She proves that when you bring your whole self to the floor, you do not just score points—you change the game.