Studio Culture Check: Are You Building a Legacy or Just Filling a Schedule?
- Santina Rigano-Lesch
- May 2
- 9 min read
*Disclaimer: I'm a cusser and you'll find me dropping cuss words in my writing. If you easily get offended by the correct use of cussing, or the use of cussing as a form of expression, scroll on by. This piece, and my blog, likely isn't for you.
Let’s be real — studio owners are some of the most creative, badass, and wildly resilient humans out there 💥
You’re building something from scratch, nurturing students, managing staff, handling parents, running events, navigating the industry… and still trying to show up with heart.
But at some point, it’s worth pausing and asking:
Am I building a legacy I’m proud of — or just filling a schedule to keep the peace?
It’s a tough question, I know. But if you’ve ever found yourself cramming in extra classes, saying “yes” when your gut whispered “hell no,” or chasing growth that doesn’t even feel good anymore; you’re not alone.
This isn’t about shame. This is about checking in — with your why, your energy, your leadership, and your culture.
The “Busy” Trap: Why More Classes ≠ More Impact
We’ve been sold a lie in studio culture: “The fuller your schedule, the more successful you are.”
So you add classes.
Then you add another program.
Then a guest teacher.
Then a comp team.
Then a pop-up.
You say yes to every idea that comes your way, and before you know it… your studio calendar is bursting at the seams.
And still, something feels off.
You’re exhausted. Your team is stretched. Your students aren’t thriving the way you want them to. You’re constantly reacting instead of leading.
This is the Busy Trap. And it’s sneaky. Because from the outside, it looks successful, but inside, it’s chaos.
More classes don’t mean more impact if the culture is cracking underneath.
Filling the schedule doesn’t build a legacy. It just builds burnout.
Culture Over Calendar: What Your Studio Actually Stands For
Let’s zoom in for a second.
If someone walked into your studio tomorrow; no tour guide, no context, just pure observation… what would they feel?
Not just see. Not just hear. Feel.
Culture isn’t just the mission statement on your wall. It’s the way your team communicates. The vibe in the lobby. The energy in the room during warm-up. The way hard conversations are handled.
Culture is what your studio holds when you’re not watching.
And here’s the truth: Your culture doesn’t build itself. It’s being shaped every day — by your decisions, your reactions, your programming, your leadership.
You can have the most organized schedule in the world, but if the vibe is off? Students feel it. Parents feel it. Staff feel it. You feel it.
And if it doesn’t align with your values, no amount of perfect planning will fix it.
So… what does your studio actually stand for? And is your culture aligned with that vision or just coasting on momentum?
Are You Leading… or People-Pleasing?
Let’s go there.
There’s a fine (and exhausting) line between leading with heart and leading from fear. And if you’re constantly saying “yes” to things that don’t sit right, shrinking your voice to keep the peace, or building programs out of pressure instead of passion — you might not be leading. You might be people-pleasing.
This shows up in ways that feel so familiar:
Saying yes to every parent request (even the ones that cross your boundaries)
Creating classes or programs because “other studios are doing it”
Avoiding necessary changes out of fear that people will leave
Keeping staff members who don’t align with your culture — just to avoid conflict or having to replace them if it doesn’t work out
And listen, I get it. As studio owners, we carry a lot. We care deeply about our dancers, our families, and our teams. We want everyone to feel held, supported, and seen. But when you constantly abandon your own needs and vision in service of everyone else’s comfort? You start building a business that doesn’t even feel like yours anymore.
Leadership isn’t about keeping everyone happy. It’s about holding the vision; even when it’s uncomfortable.
You can still be compassionate, collaborative, and community-minded without sacrificing your standards. Your students need that version of you. So do your staff. So do you.
Programs That Reflect Your Purpose
Not every idea is meant to become a class. Not every parent suggestion should turn into a program. Not every “gap in the market” is your responsibility to fill.
When you build from pressure instead of purpose, your offerings start to feel scattered, heavy, and hard to maintain. You’re just reacting.
And reaction-mode leadership? That’s a fast track to burnout.
Here’s a quick gut check you can use…
When you look at your class schedule, ask:
Does this reflect what I value as an educator and leader?
Am I offering this because I believe in it or because I’m afraid of losing someone?
Would I build this same program again if I were starting from scratch?
Your schedule should reflect your legacy, not your fear.
Your offerings should be rooted in your values, not just industry trends.
And your programs should feel like a representation of your mission, not a reaction to someone else’s expectations.
What you teach matters. But why you teach it? That’s your culture speaking.
The Burnout You Didn’t See Coming
Burnout doesn’t always show up as a dramatic crash. Sometimes, it creeps in slowly through resentment, disconnection, and that quiet voice that says, “I don’t even recognize this business anymore.”
You tell yourself, “I’m just tired,” or “It’s just a busy season,” but deep down you know something’s off.
You’re still running the studio, but your soul isn’t in it.
You’re doing the thing, but it’s not lighting you up the way it used to.
That’s not failure. That’s your body and spirit asking for a recalibration.
Studio burnout isn’t just about being overbooked. It’s about being misaligned.
It’s what happens when you spend too long prioritizing logistics over legacy.
When you’ve said “yes” too many times and “no” not nearly enough.
When your studio starts to serve everyone except you.
But here’s the good news: Burnout is a message, not a life sentence.
It’s an invitation to pause, zoom out, and ask:
“What do I really want this studio (MY STUDIO) to be about?”
And then start making decisions that answer that.
The Shift From Reactionary to Intentional Leadership
There’s a massive difference between building reactively, and building intentionally, and once you feel the shift, you can’t unfeel it.
When you’re in reaction mode, it feels like:
Scrambling to add a new program because another studio did
Adjusting policies out of fear that parents will complain
Creating more discounts, classes, and specials to “keep people happy”
Making decisions based on what you’re afraid of losing instead of what you’re excited to build
But when you move into intentional leadership, everything changes.
You start to lead from a place of clarity, purpose, and trust, not panic or people-pleasing.
Intentional leadership sounds like:
“Does this align with the culture I’m creating?”
“Will this decision support my staff, students, and vision long-term?”
“Am I building from fear or from a grounded sense of my mission?”
It’s not about being rigid or inflexible. It’s about being rooted.
It’s about saying: This is who we are. This is what we offer. This is the space we’re creating.
And if not everyone is a fit for that? That’s okay. That’s leadership.
The deeper your roots, the higher your studio can grow. Period.
Real Talk: My Own Studio Culture Wake-Up Call
When I first started my studio, I had to get scrappy. I didn’t have the capital for a brick-and-mortar, so I built my programs through community partnerships — working out of different organizations, offering revenue splits, and adapting to what their communities were asking for.
And that’s where I caught myself: people-pleasing and over-scheduling in one slick, burnout-brewing combo.
One organization had a high demand for ballet classes. And while I was teaching all sorts of styles, I’d purposely distanced myself from ballet.
Because truthfully?
That part of my dance journey carried pain.
I’d had a mentor I idolized tear me down for my body in ballet. It shook me. I was 14. And even though I pushed through and finished my exams, ballet no longer felt safe. It took me out of dance for a while, and when I came back, I chose other styles where I felt more seen.
So when this organization wanted ballet, I hesitated. Then I caved. I told myself I’d teach it “my way,” and in some ways, I did.
But deep down, I was doing it because I didn’t want to lose the partnership. I wanted to grow my studio. I said yes, even though my gut wasn’t fully on board.
What followed was a flood of ballet and creative movement classes. My schedule ballooned. And while there were beautiful outcomes — I reconnected with ballet on my own terms, taught it differently, made it inclusive and nurturing for the kids — it also pulled me out of alignment.
Suddenly, my studio was leaning more into ballet than any of the other genres I loved. It was working on paper, but it wasn’t me.
About a year and a half in, I realized I wasn’t building for myself. I was building for everyone else.
The organizations. The families. The idea of what a “successful studio” should look like.
That realization? It cracked something open.
It led me to this truth:
I don’t have to teach ballet the way I was taught.
I don’t have to teach it in a traditional way, or uphold the rigidness that harmed me.
I could bring music in from outside the classical canon.
I could make space for kids to explore ballet, not just perform it.
I could lead with inclusivity, softness, creativity.
I could offer structure without shame.
And that changed everything.
Suddenly, I wasn’t just offering ballet… I was rewriting it!
I was creating space for kids like me, kids who wanted the beauty of the form without the trauma of fitting into a mold.
I became the go-to for families looking for ballet without the bullshit.
And I found myself in it again.
This is why I’m so passionate about helping other studio owners catch this sooner.
Because so many of us grew up in systems that trained us to people-please. To perform for approval. To build based on what others wanted from us. And if you don’t do the inner work to interrupt that cycle, you’ll carry it into your studio.
And then one day, you’ll look around and realize:
You’ve built something that looks “successful”…
But it doesn’t feel like you.
I don’t want that for you.
I want you to build in alignment. From the ground up. From your values, your voice, your vision.
When you lead that way, everything else falls into place. It may take time. It may go against the grain. But it will be yours.
And that? That’s what legacy looks like.
Reflection Questions for Studio Owners
If this post is lighting a fire under your ass (in the best way), good. That’s not by accident.
Pause for a second. Breathe. And ask yourself:
What kind of space do I really want to create — for my dancers, for my team, for myself?
Where have I been saying “yes” when I should have been saying “no”?
What values do I want my studio culture to embody — both inside and outside the classroom?
Am I running my business, or is my business running me?
If I started over tomorrow, what would I do differently — and what would stay the same?
You don’t have to overhaul everything overnight.
But awareness is the first step toward aligned action.
Every yes you give moving forward can be a fuck yes rooted in your legacy, not just your logistics.
Final Thoughts: Lead with Love, Not Just Logistics
Here’s the truth, straight up:
Your leadership is your culture.
Your decisions are your legacy.
Your studio’s impact starts with you — your heart, your boundaries, your vision.
You don’t build something unforgettable by cramming your calendar full of “shoulds.”
You don’t create lasting impact by watering yourself down to keep everyone else comfortable.
You don’t leave a legacy by people-pleasing your way through leadership.
You do it by showing up clear, committed, imperfect, intentional.
You do it by building a space that reflects your values, your energy, your why.
And you don’t have to figure it all out alone.
Ready to Lead Your Studio with More Alignment, Impact, and Profit?
If this conversation hit you right in the gut (in the best way), I want to personally invite you to join my brand new membership:
The Profitable Studio
For just $127/month, you’ll get real-talk resources, action-driven trainings, and mentorship that actually supports YOU as a leader, not just your logistics.
Inside, you already get access to:
✨ Studio Spotlight Bootcamp (to help you get visible in your stories, by doing 30 mins a day for 28 days, in a way that feels aligned and not overwhelming)
✨ Exclusive trainings, live Q&As, resources, and more dropping soon
This isn’t about throwing more shit on your plate.
It’s about getting the right support so you can lead your studio the way you know you’re meant to — rooted, clear, profitable, powerful.
You’re building a legacy. Let’s make sure it fucking lasts.
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