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Dance Has a Representation Problem
Dance is one of the most expressive, beautiful, and freeing art forms out there. It’s about storytelling, movement, rhythm, and connection. But for too long, the dance world has put up barriers — both spoken and unspoken — that make it clear who they think BELONGS and who doesn’t.
Let’s be real: mainstream dance culture has a representation problem, especially when it comes to bigger bodies.
Whether it’s the images we see in media, the way dancewear is designed, or the rigid “rules” about what a dancer’s body should look like, the message has been drilled into us for generations: Thin, lean, and long-legged is the ideal dancer. And if you don’t fit that mold? You’re either ignored, underestimated, or forced to work twice as hard just to prove you deserve a spot in the room.
But dance — at its core — was never meant to be exclusive.
Across cultures and histories, dance has existed in every body. It’s been a means of celebration, ritual, community, and self-expression for all kinds of people, regardless of shape or size. So why does the professional and commercial dance industry continue to push an outdated and harmful ideal?
What Happens When Representation is Lacking
When dancers only see one type of body being valued and celebrated, it creates a culture of exclusion. This isn’t just about industry professionals; it starts from the very first ballet, jazz, or hip-hop class a kid takes.
Think about it:
- If a young dancer never sees someone with their body type in lead roles or competitions, they start to believe they can’t be that person.
- If dance teachers only praise the “small, light, and lean” dancers in class, others internalize the idea that their bodies are problems to be fixed.
- If parents are told their child “doesn’t have the right body” for dance, that kid might walk away from something they love before they ever get a real chance.
And it doesn’t stop with kids.
Adult dancers who rediscover movement later in life often have to unlearn the shame they picked up from years of hearing they were “too big” or “not built for dance.” Professional dancers who don’t fit industry standards are still fighting for fair opportunities. Even dance teachers — who should be leading the way in inclusivity — sometimes struggle to unlearn the biases they were taught.
The good news?
Representation is changing.
Thanks to outspoken dancers, teachers, and creators pushing back against the status quo, we’re seeing more diversity in dance than ever before. But there’s still a long way to go.
That’s why conversations like this matter.
If we want to make real change, we have to start from the ground up — rethinking the way we teach, talk about, and include all bodies in dance spaces.
Why Representation Matters in Dance
Let’s talk about why representation isn’t just some feel-good, politically correct buzzword — it’s the difference between someone seeing themselves as a dancer and someone walking away before they ever get a real shot.
For years, the dance world has operated under this unspoken rule: If you don’t fit the “dancer body” mold — long, lean, preferably waif-thin — you’d better be damn good to justify taking up space.
And that? That’s absolute bullshit.
What Happens When Representation is There?
Think about the first time you saw someone who looked like you doing something you didn’t think was “for you.” Maybe it was a bigger-bodied dancer absolutely fucking slaying a piece of choreography. Maybe it was someone moving in a way you didn’t think your body could move because you’d only ever seen one type of dancer represented.
That moment? It’s powerful. It shifts something inside you.
When representation is there, it:
✔️ Shatters the bullshit myths about who gets to be a dancer.
✔️ Gives dancers permission to take up space without apology.
✔️ Makes dance a place of joy, not shame— which is what it should’ve been all along.
What Happens When It’s NOT?
On the flip side, when representation is missing, it creates this toxic undercurrent of “Prove you deserve to be here.”
- Bigger-bodied dancers have to outperform everyone just to be seen as valid.
- Dancewear brands don’t even carry leotards, tights, or costumes for all bodies.
- Teachers reinforce harmful ideals by praising the thin dancers and treating others like projects to be “fixed.”
And let’s not pretend this is just an “old school” mentality, either.
Even in spaces that claim to be progressive, you’ll still hear shit like:
👎🏻 “You’re so talented — imagine how much better you’d be if you lost a little weight.”
👎🏻 “We’re just thinking about casting aesthetics.”
👎🏻 “You’re strong for your size!” Or “Wow, look at her core at work!”
Or just the pure shock and awe that you held that shit down and you can ACTUALLY move.
These microaggressions (or sometimes blatant, loud-ass aggressions) chip away at a dancer’s confidence. They make people quit before they ever realize what they’re capable of.
And let’s be real — when dancers quit, it’s not because their bodies can’t dance. It’s because they’ve been made to feel like they shouldn’t.
More Representation Means a Better Dance World for EVERYONE
Here’s the kicker: This isn’t just about bigger-bodied dancers.
When we normalize all body types in dance, it makes the space better for everybody. It removes the fear of not measuring up. It creates stronger, more confident dancers. It makes room for creativity and expression instead of shrinking people down into tiny-ass boxes.
So yeah, representation matters. It’s not optional. It’s not extra credit. It’s the fucking foundation of a dance world that actually lives up to its promise of being for everyone.
The Harmful Language Used in Dance Spaces
You ever hear a dance teacher say something and immediately feel like shit about yourself?
Yeah. That.
A lot of us have been in a dance class — whether as kids, teens, or adults — where the words coming out of the instructor’s mouth weren’t just unhelpful; they were damaging as fuck. And the worst part? Half the time, they don’t even realize the harm they’re causing.
The Phrases That Need to DIE
Let’s go ahead and call out some of the worst offenders:
❌ “Suck in your stomach.”
Translation: Your natural body isn’t acceptable as it is.
❌ “No one wants to see that jiggling on stage.”
Translation: Your body needs to be controlled, hidden, or changed.
❌ “Lose a few pounds, and your jumps will get better.”
Translation: Your weight is a problem, not something to be strong in.
❌ “You need to be light on your feet.”
Translation: If you’re not small, you’re not graceful.
Do you see a theme here?
These phrases aren’t about technique —they’re about body shaming — dressed up as dance instruction. And they’re everywhere.
Now, some teachers might try to defend these comments by saying they’re “just part of dance culture” or that they’re “preparing dancers for the real world.” But let’s get one thing straight:
This is NOT Just “Tough Love”
There’s a huge difference between correcting technique and tearing down someone’s body.
A teacher saying, “Engage your core for better balance”
✔️ That’s helpful. That’s about mechanics.
A teacher saying, “Suck it in so you don’t look sloppy”
❌ That’s about aesthetics. That’s about making a dancer feel like their body is a problem to fix.
Big fucking difference.
The Long-Term Damage of Harmful Language
This kind of language doesn’t just sting in the moment. It sticks with you for years — sometimes decades. It warps the way dancers see themselves, moves with them into adulthood, and can lead to:
🚨 Disordered eating & eating disorders
🚨 Body dysmorphia
🚨 A lifelong struggle with confidence and self-worth
And worst of all? It drives people away from dance.
How many dancers have quit because they were made to feel like their body wasn’t good enough? How many people loved movement but walked away because some asshole made them believe they didn’t belong?
It’s infuriating. And it’s preventable.
What to Say Instead
So, what’s the alternative? How do we correct technique without destroying self-esteem?
Simple. We shift the language.
🚀 Instead of “Suck in your stomach,” say → “Engage your core.”
🚀 Instead of “Lose weight so you can jump higher,” say → “Let’s build strength for more power.”
🚀 Instead of “You need to be lighter on your feet,” say → “Let’s work on control and foot placement.”
These changes might seem small, but they completely alter how a dancer experiences class. They make it a space of growth, not shame. And isn’t that the point?
Teaching Methods That Need to Change
Let’s get something straight: Bodies are not one-size-fits-all, so why are dance classes still being taught like they are?
For way too long, dance education has clung to a rigid, outdated set of expectations that completely ignores the reality of human bodies. And when someone doesn’t fit the “ideal”? They’re often set up to fail before they even get a chance to succeed.
It’s bullshit. And it needs to change.
The Outdated Mentality That Needs to Go
🚫 The idea that flexibility = ability.
Not every dancer is hypermobile, and that’s okay. A dancer’s worth isn’t measured by how close they can get their leg to their ear.
🚫 The assumption that bigger-bodied dancers aren’t strong.
Some of the strongest, most powerful movers are in bigger bodies. Stop equating “thin” with “fit” and “thick” with “struggling.” It’s false and lazy as hell.
🚫 The expectation that every dancer should execute movement exactly the same way.
Bodies are different. Bone structure, muscle composition, mobility — it all varies. Expecting a dancer to move exactly like someone with a completely different body type is not just unrealistic, it’s harmful.
What Inclusive Teaching Actually Looks Like
🌟 Offering variations without making it a big deal.
Modifications should be standard practice, not an Oh, you can’t do it? Here’s a watered-down version.
🌟 Adjusting technique to fit the dancer — not forcing the dancer to fit the technique.
Instead of telling dancers to “fix” their bodies, we should be adapting the movement to work for them.
🌟 Ditching the obsession with aesthetics.
Dance should be about expression, skill, and storytelling — not about looking as thin as possible in a leotard.
The Reality of Exclusion in Dance Spaces
For years, dance has been treated like an exclusive club. If you don’t have the “right” look? If you don’t move the “right” way? You’re either ignored or treated like a side project.
And that’s how we lose dancers who should’ve stayed.
💔 The kid who loved movement but quit because they felt like a burden.
💔 The teen who was told they weren’t cast because of their body, not their skill.
💔 The adult rediscovering dance but feeling like they “missed their chance” because they don’t look the part.
None of this is about making things easier. It’s about making them accessible — because dance should’ve been that way all along.
It’s time for teachers, studios, and the entire fucking industry to get their shit together and start teaching in a way that actually supports all dancers.
The Impact of Body-Shaming on Dancers
Body-shaming in dance isn’t just a bad day at class thing. It’s not something dancers can just shake off when they leave the studio. It plants itself deep. It latches onto the way dancers see themselves, how they move, how they show up in the world.
And the worst part? Most of the people doing the shaming don’t even realise it.
Dance teachers, choreographers, even other dancers — many of them genuinely think they’re “helping” when they comment on someone’s weight, body shape, or size. They think they’re pushing dancers to be “better” or “healthier.” But what they’re actually doing?
🚨 They’re fucking people up🚨
The Psychological Toll
When dancers are constantly told their body is a problem, it seeps into every part of their identity.
🧠 Disordered Eating, Eating Disorders, & Body Dysmorphia
So many dancers fall into the mindset cycle that if they starve themselves, fall into disordered eating or eating disorder patterns, over-exercise, or obsess over their reflection… they’ll end up loosing weight because they’ve been conditioned to believe smaller = better. And even if they do lose weight? They still don’t feel “good enough.”
🧠 Perfectionism & Self-Doubt
Dancers already strive for perfection in movement, but when body-shaming gets thrown into the mix, that perfectionism turns toxic. Suddenly, it’s not just about nailing the technique, choreography, skill, or artistry — it’s about trying to control something that shouldn’t need fixing in the first place.
🧠 Quitting Dance Entirely
How many dancers have walked away from something they loved because they were made to feel like they didn’t belong? It’s heartbreaking. And the worst part? Most of them don’t quit because they wanted to. They quit because the system made them feel like they had to.
The Physical Toll
And let’s be clear: Body-shaming doesn’t just mess with a dancer’s mind — it can literally wreck their body, too.
💔 Injury from unhealthy training practices
Dancers pushing their bodies past safe limits just to meet unrealistic size expectations? It’s a recipe for stress fractures, muscle tears, and long-term damage.
💔 Exhaustion & Burnout
When dancers are constantly told they need to be smaller, lighter, “more fit,” they end up overtraining to the point of pure exhaustion. Dance shouldn’t destroy your body just to meet an industry’s impossible standards.
💔 Shame that carries into adulthood
Even after dancers leave the industry, a lot still struggle with body image issues, eating disorders/disordered eating/body dysmorphia, and a lack of self-worth — sometimes for the rest of their lives. That’s how deep this shit goes.
Enough is Enough
The dance industry has spent decades damaging dancers with body-shaming culture. And we’re done pretending it’s okay.
Because guess what?
💥 Your body is not a problem.
💥 You don’t have to change to fit dance — dance needs to change to fit you.
💥 And anyone who tells you otherwise can kindly fuck off.
Steps Toward a More Inclusive Dance Space
Talking about the problem is great. Fixing it is better.
The dance world has spent way too fucking long excluding people, and it’s time for that to end. But making dance inclusive isn’t just about saying, “All bodies are welcome!” and calling it a day. That’s empty as hell if the actual teaching methods, studio culture, and industry norms don’t change, too.
So, what does real inclusivity look like? Let’s break it down.
1. Dance Teachers: Do Better. Period.
If you’re a teacher, you have the most direct power to shift the culture. Every class you teach, every correction you give, every word you say — it matters; it all matters.
Here’s how to not be part of the problem:
✅ Ditch body-shaming language, full stop.
We already went over this, but it bears repeating: Correct technique, not bodies. No more “suck it in,” no more “we need to slim down for this role,” no more equating “lightness” with ability.
✅ Modify movements without making it a big fucking deal.
If a dancer needs an adjustment, offer it the same way you would any other correction. No apologetic tone, no awkward “Well, since you can’t do it this way…” vibes. Just teach the damn movement in a way that works for different bodies.
✅ Stop assuming bigger-bodied dancers are weak, slow, or less capable.
If you catch yourself underestimating a dancer because of their size, check yourself before you wreck yourself, And if a bigger-bodied dancer is struggling with something, figure out why — don’t assume their weight is the issue.
✅ Diversify who you highlight.
The dancers you showcase in class, in performances, in marketing materials? If they all look the same, you’ve got a problem. Representation starts at the studio level.
2. Studios & Dance Institutions: Make Space for Every Body
A truly inclusive studio isn’t just about saying everyone is welcome—it’s about making sure they feel that way.
That means:
🚪 Having a range of leotard & costume sizes available.
If your studio only stocks up to a “Large,” you’re failing your dancers. Not to mention the vast range of sizing by clothing companies that make it universally impossible to stock one type of “large” without considering additional options.
🚪 Not just casting thin dancers in lead roles.
And if the excuse is “but traditional ballet aesthetics,” congrats, you’re part of the problem.
🚪 Training teachers on body inclusivity.
Because so many dance teachers are just repeating the same shit they were taught — without questioning or unravelling the toxicity — to continue conversation, discussion, and learning on how to do better.
🚪 Making sure your space is physically accessible.
Are your dressing rooms, seating areas, and floors set up for everyone to feel comfortable or just the status quo?
🚪 Support dancers who don’t fit the “traditional” mold.
Follow them, amplify them, cheer them the fuck on. The more visibility diverse dancers get, the faster this industry changes. Create opportunities within class learning, combos, or routines, for them to shine — to showcase their skills, their talent, their artistry, just like you would any dancer.
Help them feel seen, valued, heard, and worthy in your dance space. Give them a community, a dance home, a family they can connect and belong to.
3. Parents & Students: Speak Up, Call It Out
Students and parents have more power than they realise. Studios rely on enrollment to survive — so if enough people demand change, they have to listen.
And not just inside the studio, but out in the world. The way we talk about dance online, the way we react to casting decisions, the way we show up for dancers who get pushed aside — it all matters.
Here’s what you can do:
🔥 If a teacher uses body-shaming language, call them out or speak to the studio owner.
You don’t have to be aggressive (unless you want to be, no judgment), but say something. Ask why they’re using that language. Make them aware that it’s unacceptable.
And if you don’t feel comfortable with that, take it to the studio owner. I can assure you, 9 times out of 10, the studio owner will be extremely grateful you brought this to their attention… that is if they aren’t negatively contributing to the issue.
🔥 Use your voice online. If you see harmful body-shaming bullshit in the dance world — whether it’s in a viral video, a comment section, or a casting announcement — speak the fuck up. Silence lets toxic culture thrive.
🔥 Follow, share, and amplify dancers who break the mold. Social media algorithms push the same thin, conventionally “ideal” dancers to the top — we can change that. The more we engage with and hype up dancers of ALL sizes, the more visibility they get.
🔥 Call out studios, brands, and competitions when they’re part of the problem. Did a comp just give top awards to the same body type over and over? Is a dancewear brand only making leotards up to a size Large? Tag them. Ask them why. Demand better.
🔥 Hype up dancers who are constantly overlooked. If you see a dancer being shamed, ignored, or treated like they don’t belong — be the loudest fucking cheerleader in the room. Sometimes, all it takes is one person saying, “You’re incredible, keep going,” to drown out a thousand voices of doubt.
🔥 Choose studios & teachers that align with body-positive values.
If a studio is still stuck in outdated, exclusionary bullshit? Take your money elsewhere. No matter how good they may be at what they do.
Dance spaces won’t fix themselves. We have to push them to evolve. And that starts with every single one of us — in the studio, in conversations, and yes, online.
4. The Industry as a Whole: Burn the Old Rulebook
The entire dance industry needs to take a long, hard look in the mirror. For decades, it has functioned on exclusivity, elitism, and impossible body standards. And that system? It’s broken as hell.
It’s time for:
💥 Bigger-bodied dancers in professional companies—not just as token hires, but as the fucking norm.
💥 Costume designers & dancewear brands to create shit for ALL bodies.
💥 Casting directors to value talent over size.
💥 Dance media to showcase actual diversity — not just performative representation.
The old ways aren’t working anymore. And if the industry doesn’t evolve, it’s going to be left behind.
Let’s Keep This Momentum Going
If you’ve made it this far, you’re already part of the change. You’re questioning the old, outdated ways. You’re demanding better. And that? That’s where real fucking progress starts.
But conversations alone don’t change shit. Action does.
So here’s what I want you to do next:
✨ If you’re a dancer — own your space. Keep showing up, keep pushing back against the bullshit, and keep dancing in a way that makes YOU feel powerful.
✨ If you’re a teacher — check your language, adjust your methods, and make your classes a place where every dancer feels valued.
✨ If you’re a parent — advocate for your kid at every age. Call out toxic studio culture. Choose teachers who uplift, not tear down.
And if you need resources to help you navigate this, I’ve got you.
Check out my resources page for colouring kits & posters that inspire creativity and reinforce self-love & expression for bigger bodied dancers.
Because art, movement, and joy should be for EVERY body.
STAY REBELLIOUS
Xoxo Santina Rigano-Lesch
Badass Human, Stereotype Breaker, Kindness Wins
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