Teaching at the Beginning

Returning to the studio with very young dancers is something I have truly looked forward to. And yet, I had forgotten how difficult it is. It requires tremendous energy to hold their attention, communicate clearly, and guide understanding in real time. At times, it can be exhausting. And yet, it holds a deeply meaningful quality.

The growth.
The small shifts.
The moments when everything finally clicks.

Those quiet aha moments make the work completely worthwhile.

After over twenty years of teaching at both the high school and college levels, returning to the early stages of training has been both refreshing and humbling. It has forced me to rethink how I communicate. How do I explain? How do I demonstrate? How do I guide understanding in its simplest form? Because what is simple is not always easy to teach. In fact, it is often the most challenging.

Young dancers are not just learning steps. They are learning how to listen, how to organize their bodies, how to connect words to movement, and how to begin making sense of something entirely new. This requires clarity. It takes patience. It demands the skill to break down information in ways that are both understandable and meaningful.

This is something I take very seriously because teaching early on involves a unique responsibility. This stage is when patterns form, habits begin, and understanding—or misunderstanding—takes hold. Yet, these levels are often entrusted to the least experienced teachers, usually for understandable reasons within studio structures. These teachers may be enthusiastic, caring, and well-meaning, but they are still developing the ability to truly see, articulate, and guide what is happening in the body.

This is where a crucial distinction starts to matter: the difference between giving a lesson and genuinely teaching.

At the early stages, it is not enough to just move students through exercises, show combinations, or keep a class moving forward. During these moments, a lesson is being delivered. Teaching, however, requires more. It involves the ability to analyze movement, understand what a student comprehends—and what they do not—adjust language, direct attention, and connect what is said with what is felt.

Especially with young dancers, this is a significant challenge. It is a vital educational responsibility. Without clear communication, students may repeat movements without truly understanding them. They might participate without really learning, and over time, these gaps become harder to fix.

I often tell my young dancers, “You can’t read a novel until you know your ABCs.” And even then, learning doesn’t stop there. One must understand how letters combine to form words, how words create sentences, and how meaning is ultimately built. Ballet training is much the same. Each step depends on the one before it. Each concept needs time to settle. Each layer relies on the clarity of the previous one.

As teachers, we are responsible for guiding this process—not rushing, not jumping ahead, and not confusing exposure with understanding, but nurturing it intentionally and carefully. Because what is established at the beginning is what the dancer carries forward.

This return to the earliest stages of training also prompted me to consider a broader question within our studio culture—who is guiding these foundational experiences? I explore this further in my companion essay, “Who Teaches the Beginners? Rethinking Foundations in Ballet Education.”