I sat down with every intent to write this piece about neurodiversity in dance. However, the topic quickly became too academic and theoretical. You see, neurodiversity and dance are two topics not often heard in conjunction. Neurodiversity is, simply put, brain differences. Human brains vary. This is natural. This term is often used to describe conditions like Autism or ADHD, which are variations in the neurocognitive functioning of the human brain. ‘Neurodiversity’ covers a range of variations in the human brain as they relate to sociability, mood, learning, and attention (Griffen, n.d., para 1).

In my work as a Special Education teacher and case manager, I work with neurodiverse brains on a daily basis. I love this work. I love finding tools and strategies to help students maximize their potential. The educational opportunities for students with disabilities today is vastly different than it was even when I was in school. More and more students are identified year after year as students who need specially designed instruction in order to be appropriately served in public schools. This is a great thing! I, personally, would love an education system that is able to reach every student with an individualized plan— those with and without disabilities. Yet, while an understanding of neurodiversity is growing in schools and workplaces, neurodiversity is not well explored in the dance community because of a pervasive culture of exclusivity within professional dance spaces, and, potentially, dance educators’ lack of experience working with neurodiverse individuals.

Historically, European professional or technical dance (aka Ballet) was for the upper class. Ballet started as court entertainment in Italy and France during the Renaissance (Kant, n.d., paras 1-10). There is still a class divide in dance today. Elitism in ballet is not new news. However, we don’t often talk about the ability divide in dance. While physical disabilities have become more prominently accepted than in the past (see dancers like Alice Sheppard, Jeron Herman, and Evan Guinet), there isn’t currently a space for neurodivergent dancers in local studios or in the broader dance community. Case in point: I searched for neurodiversity on dancemagazine.com and received the following message, “Ooops! No results found!”

Studios continue to focus on scouting natural talent, instilling dedication and self-discipline, teaching proper etiquette, fostering professionalism, and infusing their dancers with technical skills, flexibility, and artistry— all good things! To be clear, these are not inherently bad missions. Where we go wrong is in implementation. I think back on my dance training: I remember dance being a place where I was held to strict standards, where people were always watching and assessing me, where my effort and behavior were constantly on trial. Every year we auditioned for our competition castings. I remember being singled out in an audition for kicking on the wrong counts as I completed across the floor progressions during the audition. I remember being told to go to the dressing room with two of my friends to stretch our splits until we got all the way down in them— only then could we return to the audition. I remember being so scared of doing a back handspring but doing it anyway so I would get cast in the upper level group. I remember speaking up for myself once, telling the teacher that she was being mean, which resulted in my “special partnering part” being given to a quieter girl. I didn’t speak my mind again. The first time I loved dance was not until I was thirteen or fourteen. I took a lyrical class at Westlake Dance Center with Kirsten Cooper, and I fell in love. Kirsten made the class more about intention and emotion rather than about technical skill or effort (though her dancers are also beautifully skilled technical artists). For the first time, I felt like I was dancing for me, like I was getting to explore parts of myself that I hadn’t had the opportunity to explore before. My mental health felt seen in Kirsten’s classes, and this was so important for me.

All of this is to say, maybe inclusivity in dance is more about how we teach than about who is in our classes. There is this idea in academic teaching that the strategies used to teach students in Special Education programs are just good teaching strategies period. The structure and accommodations we create for our neurodiverse students are helpful for all our students. Maybe it is the same with dance? The knowledge and teaching pedagogy I have developed as a special education teacher helps me as a dance teacher. Tiny brains love repetition whether it is academic concepts or movement. Teaching younger dancers to connect movement to song lyrics is another helpful memorization strategy because it taps into our brain’s natural desire to find patterns and predict sequences; it’s like a matching game. If you can connect the lyric “heart” to a movement that also suggests the idea of “heart”, the brain is more apt to remember that movement sequence because it becomes a pattern. An executive functioning skill called “chunking” is applicable in dance as well. Breaking things down into small, manageable pieces is an effective strategy whether you are guiding students through a project or teaching a dance routine.

As neurodivergence continues to be acknowledged in schools, I see more neurodivergence in my dance students. Admittedly, this can make teaching challenging; but, I’ve learned to adapt my practices. For instance, I have a student who thrives when given lists. So, every solo practice, we make a list of the parts of her routine we need to work on. Another student needs frequent breaks, so we do lots of short water breaks so that she can reset every 10-15 minutes. These are small strategies that make huge differences for the health and well-being of my dancers. As we continue to educate this next generation of dancers, let us focus on seeing our dancers as humans, educating the “whole” dancer, actively listening to our dancers and engaging them in dialogues, and supporting and encouraging dancers to grow to their full potential without pressuring them to perform past their comfort.

If dance educators can make this shift, there can be a place for neurodiverse students in dance studios, and there should be. With teachers who are actively aware of the neurodiversity paradigm, studios can become more inclusive of dancers whose operating systems are different from the ‘norm’. Dance should be about bringing people together in a space where they can share the joy of movement and performance. Performing movement is powerful and neurodivergent dancers can (and should) get to feel that too!

References:
Griffen, Mark J, Understood Team. (n.d.). Neurodiversity: What You Need to Know. understood.org. https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.understood.org/en/friends-feelings/empowering-your-child/building-on-strengths/neurodiversity-what-you-need-to-know

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Neurodiversity in Dance