"But You Don't Look Like A Ballerina"

Every week I open my class with an attendance question. I started with what’s your favorite song? It was my not so sneaky way to build a playlist my 6-year-olds would appreciate, because I have no idea what children like these days (what is Descendants? It’s been almost a year and I’m still not sure).

As the year went on I started letting my class ask the questions. This is mostly because I am lazy and also because they never stop talking. This week’s question was “what do you want to be when you grow up?” I wasn’t sure what I was expecting. Definitely not “princess” or “mom” (although those are valid occupations and I would do either in a heartbeat) but it’s 2018 and I know my girls are smart af and ready to take on the world. One wants to be a pediatrician, another a dental hygienist, a teacher and a gymnast.

One looked right at me and said, “I want to be dance teacher like you.” This is cute and makes me feel good regardless but here’s why it’s important; this little girl happens to be black.

I teach at a studio in Lakeville. The very same studio I grew up dancing in. I started taking ballet when I was four years old and I still do. Lakeville is still a predominantly white city, and ballet is still a predominantly white art. Yes, there are breakout stars like Misty Copeland, Nardia Boodoo and Precious Lanee to name a few; and there are predominantly black companies like Alvin Ailey, Dance Theatre of Harlem and Ballet Black (all artists and companies you should check out). Yes, in 2018 there are a lot of POC artists, but ballet still remains an art that many “minorities” are excluded from.

Growing up at my studio in the early 2000s I was one of two brown girls in the ballet program. I was one of maybe four in the entire studio. I’ve noticed that my entire life, when it comes to ballet classes I’m more often than not the only melanin poppin person in the room. I took a class at Zenon yesterday (phenomenal program btw), and once again noticed the lack of diversity in the studio.

I went to college (partially) on a talent grant from the Theatre and Dance Department at MNSU. Although the department had a lot more diversity than what I was used to, once again, I found myself the only black girl in my ballet classes.

I’ve learned that a lot of this has to do with access. Dance is expensive. Shout out to my parents because I know putting me through 14 years of studio was not easy for you. I’m incredibly blessed to have had the means to be trained classically, a privilege that a lot of children of color don’t receive. Not only is there a financial gap but the lack of representation is a huge deterrent as well.

I never had a ballet teacher who looked like me. My first black instructor was in high school, want to guess what she taught? She was a phenomenal hip hop teacher, and that’s a form I’m dying to get into more. I’ll take this time to say I am in no way, shape or form a hip hop dancer; but when I say “I’m a dancer” people automatically assume hip hop (or stripper but that’s a post for a different day).

I’ve had people tell me, “you don’t look like a ballet dancer.” What does a ballet dancer look like? More often than not, 90 pounds and white. I’m not here to take shots at “traditional” ballerinas either, because they are gorgeous and talented, and I spent most of my life wishing I looked like them.

But I didn’t. I don’t. And it took me a very long time to accept that. That’s why it was so touching and important that this little girl wanted to be a dance teacher “like me.” I want people to see that yes, brown girls do ballet, and they kick ass at it. I want her to be able to confidently pursue her dance dreams. I don’t want her to ever worry about having to put her hair in a French twist knowing damn well it won’t. Or being type cast as the “Ethnic” role. Or having to wear a “nude” colored leotard that might as well be white.

The world of ballet is changing. It’s becoming a lot more inclusive. I’m here to see ABT with (more) black principals and soloists. I’m here to see black Sugar Plum Fairies, Odette’s and Sleeping Beauties. I’m here for little black girls who want to be ballerinas for the rest of their lives.