Seeing Color in the Dance Industry

This piece was originally written in 2020 and has been reposted in February 2023.

By Madison Huizinga, DWC Blog Editor

It’s safe to say that most of us didn’t anticipate the first half of 2020 to go the way it has. Our lives have changed drastically in the past few months, some more than others. Not only has the COVID-19 pandemic modified nearly all aspects of our daily routines, but a national movement supporting black lives and opposing police brutality has ignited. The heartbreaking murder of George Floyd in Minneapolis has stirred global attention towards police brutality and racial inequity in America. There have been protests in solidarity with George Floyd in all 50 states and at least 40 additional countries on nearly every continent. Anger towards this grueling act of police brutality has transformed into a larger revolution against systemic racism that’s gone on for too long in the United States.

As we partake in protests, sign petitions, and watch riots unfold on television, many of us are contemplative of our position in this movement and greater society. And in light of social distancing, many of us are in close quarters with family members and roommates who may disagree with the demonstrations developing throughout the country. This can result in some uncomfortable conversations that some people may have never had before, especially among white people.

As a white person who grew up in a white family, race is an aspect of my identity I have never needed to consciously consider. I expect to see people who look like me on my favorite TV shows. I expect to purchase a foundation that matches my skin tone at the mall. I expect to learn how historical figures with my racial identity founded America in history class. I can walk around my community confidently knowing that nothing adverse will happen to me solely because of my race. I feel seen and heard wherever I go because I have learned that being white means being the default. And I have been taught to think that this is valid.

When it comes to discussions about race at my family dinner table and within the walls of my classrooms, I am often told that all people are the same regardless of their skin color. I am told that to push for justice, we must simply view all people equally to achieve equality within social systems and institutions. Throughout my education and upbringing, I have been taught to be “color blind,” which may sound beneficial in theory. But being blind to racial difference means ignoring white privilege and the disadvantages others have because of it. Choosing to be “color blind,” means choosing to ignore the flawed systems that white people benefit from at the expense of people of color’s rights. It means choosing to be blind to systemic oppression, and thus indifferent and complacent to the suffering of black people. It’s time that I, and white people everywhere, open their eyes.

Now is a more important time than ever to listen and learn about the systemic racism that’s embedded in the world we live in. It’s time that we identify how racism not only withholds power from people of color but actively contributes to white people’s success. This does not mean denying the existence of white privilege but utilizing privilege to amplify anti-racist sentiment. This does not just involve taking a stand during a moment of tragedy but constantly analyzing the systems we are a part of and understanding how prejudice is woven into their fabrics. For many of us, this means turning to the dance industry.

As a white woman, I see dancers who look like me strewn throughout the dance community. I constantly see my identity presented through the types of stories told on stage, as well as through the types of dancers telling those stories. In the United States, about 67% of dancers and choreographers are white, while only 16.6% are black. Like all art, dance is meant to express emotions, transport audiences to different worlds, and explore unique narratives. However, when the majority of these narratives are choreographed and performed by white people, it can be difficult for people of color to feel as represented on stage. When white people make up two-thirds of the American dance industry, we cannot expect dance to be a comprehensive art form that communicates widely shared anecdotes. We cannot expect people of color to feel as accepted in the dance community if they aren’t represented across every area of the industry.

Niyah Pratt is a black dancer who has trained in the greater Seattle area since she was six years old. She’s performed at numerous showcases, attended conventions across the west coast, and has even spent a summer dancing at Debbie Allen Dance Academy. Today she studies dance at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas. While dance currently plays a paramount role in Niyah’s life, she hasn’t always felt embraced by the dance community throughout her childhood. Niyah says that “it has always been hard being an African American pursuing dance,” largely because she rarely saw people within her classes and acclaimed companies that looked like her. Niyah recalls that she “didn’t fully know that there were companies other than Alvin Ailey that were started and ran by African Americans until [she] was sixteen.” It wasn’t until she attended a summer intensive at the Debbie Allen Dance Academy that she began learning about the history of African Americans in dance. Before that, her view of the dance world was skewed towards white dancers and their contributions.

Niyah notes that growing up she was “one of four African American dancers” at her studio, and often felt singled out as a result. She has attended ballet auditions in which she is the “only person of color in the whole building.” Niyah “never forgets walking into a room and every girl looking exactly the same except for [her].” She says that from her own experiences “having a darker complexion while dancing is mentally challenging.” Being surrounded by solely white dancers can instill imposter syndrome in many black dancers, otherwise known as a lack of belonging. Not feeling seen, accepted, and represented within the dance industry can easily deter many people of color from pursuing a career in dance, as they may feel that they aren’t talented or qualified enough to belong in the industry because of their race.

According to Niyah, being a black dancer is not only mentally challenging but “it’s physical as well” due to the lack of costuming options for black dancers. Niyah says that “anything skin-toned or with mesh” often makes black dancers “feel uncomfortable” because “they are made for someone ‘fair toned.’” Especially when it comes to shopping for tights, black dancers often struggle to find anything close to matching their skin tone. Niyah recounts a vivid memory of a faculty show in college, in which her ballet teacher requested to speak with her in the hallway and asked “why [she] didn’t have skin-colored tights or pointe shoes.” Niyah was extremely confused because she was wearing tights and shoes that were marketed and labeled as “skin tone,” even though they were much lighter than her complexion. Niyah’s teacher told her that “when you have darker skin, you are supposed to wear your tone of tights and shoes when you perform.” Niyah was surprised that no one had ever told her that. This a conversation that a white dancer would never need to have. As a white dancer myself, I can purchase “skin toned” tights and shoes at any store and expect them to resemble my skin tone. But for black dancers, this simply isn’t the case because “skin tone” is synonymous with “white” across the dance industry and society.

Despite the challenges Niyah has faced in the dance industry, she notes that there “has been significant progress” and she is “ecstatic seeing [the industry] evolve.” She has noticed that in recent years more dancers of color and dancers of different shapes and sizes have gained attention. While it’s certainly inspiring to see individual performers like Misty Copeland gain recognition for their talents, a large-level change is needed so that seeing black dancers in the spotlight becomes a standard and not an anomaly. What Niyah wishes to see across dance communities is “inclusion” and dance that “is taught for anyone and everyone.” This means telling stories through dance that are relevant to people of color. This means seeing black dancers in lead roles that are complex and powerful, rather than vilified, racialized, or minimized. This means creating nude leotards, tights, and pointe shoes that don’t just match a pale skin tone, but compliment dancers of all races. It’s about a complete metamorphosis of the dance industry on every level. In the words of Niyah Pratt, dance “is already so beautiful, diversity is the only thing keeping it from being stunning.”

The past few months have presented challenges that many of us may have never foreseen. But we have the opportunity to move forward with a more compassionate and critical outlook on the world. We have the chance to not let this movement be a moment in time, but a catalyst for change. It is never too late to break the silence to provide support for black lives today and forever. Here are some ways to get started:

Educate yourself:

Learn more about the history of racism in America, and more about how black identity is widely perceived in institutions. This is an essential way to understand the meaning behind the large injustices that take place throughout the United States.

Here are some books to read to learn more about the experiences of black people and how to have productive conversations about racial identity:

Here are some documentaries, films, and series that incapsulate the experiences of black people in the United States:

13th on Netflix and YouTube
When They See Us on Netflix
Moonlight
Dear White People on Netflix
The African Americans: Many Rivers to Cross

Consume and support art from black artists

There is a plethora of beautiful art produced and performed by black artists across the Internet. Here are some that are dance-related:

“SHOT” by Donald Byrd
DTH On Demand Presents: VESSELS by Dance Theatre of Harlem
“ink” by Camille A. Brown and dancers
Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater: Chroma, Grace, Takademe, Revelations (2015)

Sign petitions

On change.org, there are a variety of petitions relating to racial justice for people to sign. Learn about different causes that need support and share them with your friends and family.

Donate

A donation of any size is welcome to nearly every cause. If you are capable of donating, consider doing so. Here are some organizations to consider: