I think most people who grew up doing classical ballet have a complicated relationship with the art. Ballet is undoubtedly beautiful, and there are darker sides to it too. Yes, I had many good dance teachers, and I have many fond memories of growing up dancing. I still love dancing.

I also had teachers who made comments on people’s bodies, teachers who showed blatant favoritism, and teachers who were strict to the point of being mean. These teachers are the antithesis of how I try to teach dance now.

I teach musical theatre and tap classes, for kids and adults. It’s fun, low pressure, and even if my students can’t do the most turns or don’t have the highest possible kicks, though we do work on that, I hope they at least have positive, healthy experiences with dance.

I still try to take classes myself too. It’s not as frequently as when I was in college and doing ballet, jazz, and tap multiple times a week. Adult life doesn’t always allow for that schedule. Still, I try to take at least one class a week for myself, and this fall I’m returning to adult ballet.

With adult ballet, that student ages range from eighteen to in their seventies, and the class is specifically geared towards adults. It’s in the evening, well after typical work hours, only lasts an hour, and we can always modify or skip moves if a certain part of our body is hurting that day. That kind of self-care is even encouraged.

These kind of adjustments though have to be taught and modeled by the teacher. So many times as a kid, we were told to essentially dance through the pain because “the show must go on.” This is not only untrue—the show can and should stop sometimes—but it is also harmful and unsustainable. It’s how I ended up having back surgery at twenty-three. I ignored the pain and kept doing ballet and pointe until I could hardly walk without pain.

This is why I so appreciate this adult ballet teacher though for encouraging rest when rest is needed, and also pushing yourself when that is needed. There is a balance, and only the dancer can make the ultimate determination for their body. It’s about learning to know and listen to your body.

He also encourages us to enjoy ourselves, which may sound obvious when it comes to dancing, but it’s easy enough to forget that’s why we are there. Especially with my many years of training and dance competitions, I can be too hard on myself. This is especially true when, as an adult, my body can’t always do what it once did at sixteen, or at least not without pain.

Of course, focus and effort aren’t bad, but it’s also okay to make mistakes. That’s how we learn. It’s okay to be bad or even get worse at an activity. It’s okay to smile and be goofy sometimes. It’s okay to not take yourself so seriously, especially since I am only taking this class for myself. There is nothing to win; there is no one else to impress. This teacher catches that, and reminds me that dance is supposed to be fun.

One of my tap students last week asked me, “Is ballet all bad?” I was surprised. Had I communicated negative experiences with ballet when iterating how tap is quite different? No, ballet is not all bad. Like any other activity, it largely depends on the environment. Sometimes the ballet environment can be toxic, and sometimes it can be wonderful.

Ballet can be beautiful and joyous and freeing. Ballet can even be healing. As I find myself excited for ballet class tonight, I am looking forward to pinning my hair up in a bun, but not wearing a leotard unless I want to. I look forward to moving my body with purpose, turning and jumping through the air, and stopping if it hurts. I look forward to strengthening and stretching muscles, and dancing just for me and my enjoyment.

Morgan