Advocacy - A Voice for Change

I’m writing as someone who loves ballet and believes in the power of dance as a shaping force in young lives. I care about the future of dance, its audiences, and especially the students who commit their childhoods and the adults who devote their lives. [...] expanded capacity offers a unique opportunity to address a long-time concern. 

Over decades of teaching, parenting, and connecting with folks in the broader dance world, I’ve seen the worse outcomes of dance systems up close: throwing up before competitions, decades-long eating disorders, severe anxiety, and even self-harm. We often tell young dancers, explicitly or implicitly, that something about them is wrong: the shape of their feet, their turnout, their legs, their hips, too short, too tall, overweight, etc. Over time, these critiques become internalized. Watching kids review their YAGP photos each year broke my heart: a cascade of self-rejection.

I’ve met and heard of many [...] students who were told they weren’t good enough to advance, or even to remain. These weren’t casual participants; these were young people who traded their childhood for studio life. They’d given up sleepovers, school dances, and family time, dedicating 20+ hours each week to training, rehearsals, and performances. Many traded holiday breaks for Nutcracker Seasons. The lucky ones landed somewhere else or poured their energy into adjacent activities, but nearly all held profound sadness.  

Many students build their social world inside the studios. Many rely on movement for emotional regulation. When they’re asked to leave, they lose joy, routine, friendship, and community, all at once. Their primary connection to this art, one in which they’ve trusted and invested, is severed.

When a school cuts a student loose, it fractures an identity. Students told they aren’t a good fit feel discarded. Dancers lose their regulation and tribe. Mothers may even audit their worth, wondering if her deficiencies are the reason her child wasn’t enough. 

From an institutional perspective, this practice of removing dancers is confusing. These students and families are the future of support: audiences, subscribers, donors, volunteers, maybe even board members. When they are released with bitterness and grief, we risk alienating our own financial safety net. 

For years, I’ve wondered what’s the harm in letting students finish out their high-school years; the industry narrows naturally, brutally.

I share this as an invitation to consider a new era, where there might be room for both excellence and humanity, and where keeping more young people connected to dance might ultimately strengthen [...], the community, and the art we’re all working to protect.

With respect, care, and hope,
Terrel  

...I still feel badly about bringing a young girl (one of my son’s friends) to R&J. While I was aware the story might not convey great messaging, I was taken aback by the amount of comedic groping. After discussing this with several people, it seemed that many didn’t notice these background interactions to the same extent. However, I couldn’t help feeling disturbed about exposing a young girl to how these women were objectified. 

Given your thoughtful changes in other areas, the choreographic elements that remain are particularly impactful. As a champion of respectful treatment and portrayal of women on stage, I’m compelled to express my concerns and desire for change. Specifically, I’m referring to the corps—young women just starting their careers, wide-eyed with ballerina dreams, who might feel powerless to speak up about the impact of this inappropriate touch during rehearsals and performances.

I believe that addressing this issue would not only enhance the respect and dignity of the performers but also improve the experience for female audiences and better align with [...] values. 

Thank you for considering my feedback. You’ve made the dance world better on so many levels, and I look forward to [...] continuing to be at the forefront of positive changes related to the culture of dance.

What began as a creative outlet soon became something more: a quiet revolution in storytelling. I began to reflect on the stories I'd watched from the audience through a new lens. Why were so many classical ballets centered around tragedy, broken hearts, or damsels in distress?

The answer, perhaps, lies in who’s telling the stories. While women dominate ballet as performers and audiences, the traditional fairy tales and choreography have often been written by men. We offer an alternative: empowering, emotionally rich stories where girls are strong, choices matter, and movement becomes a medium for growth.

It's storybook activism. By questioning what stories are being told, and how, I hope to inspire a shift not just in children’s literature, but in the culture of dance itself. 

- Source When Cats Leap and Unicorns Twirl: How Once Upon a Dance is Rewriting Ballet’s Fairy Tales - New York Weekly 

I'm in conversation with multiple choreographers about how they might appeal to female audiences in new ways. 

Competitions become shared memories: early mornings, backstage hugs, hotel pools, and precious time with dance besties. Treat competitions like a weekend getaway. 

Resist the urge to weigh in on results and stay positive about all competitors. Judges are human, opinions are subjective, and each panel is looking for different things based on personal preferences. What matters most is your dancer’s dedication to fine-tuning and improving. 

Take advantage of everything these events offer: classes, workshops, and exposure to new teachers. It’s not just only a couple minutes on stage. It’s about stepping outside comfort zones, performing under pressure, learning to recover, and building confidence through experience.

Keep the energy calm and supportive, trust the teachers to coach, and avoid comparisons. After the performance, share pride and appreciation, and reflect on courage, effort, and growth. Placements don’t define potential, and a single score never tells the whole story.

Above all, protect the joy. The best dancers aren’t the ones who never face disappointment; they’re the ones who learn to keep going with creativity, resilience, and heart. When families focus on growth, connection, and love of movement, competitions become meaningful steps in a lifelong dance story.