Hidden Labor: Dance is a Real Job
“At least I’m doing what I love.” Is this something cash-strapped creatives, particularly those working in the dance world, must tell themselves to stay sane in a STEM obsessed society? Whether one is a dance teacher, studio owner, or professional dancer, the unique mixing of one’s business with their passion complicates the answer to this question.
Often, societal misunderstanding toward careers in the arts is expressed in the form of microaggressive comments. A dance and management undergraduate student at the University of California, Irvine and co-host of On the Other Foot Podcast Jayne Friscia remarks that “it’s little phrases like ‘ I wish I could major in dance, I hate doing homework,” or “the studio you teach at is like Dance Moms, right?” that let you know you’re not being taken seriously.” Business administration student, co-host of On the Other Foot Podcast, ballet instructor, and City Ballet of San Diego company dancer Kalena Tano concurs with this idea, saying “I can always tell when people judge me for not having a ‘real’ job because they ask me things like how much I get paid or how many hours I work. You would never ask someone with a normal job those questions, so why ask me?” However, college students are not the only ones who face these pointed comments. Shari Davis, owner and Company Director of the Dance Center of Spokane, said she received a similar comment from a friend on the morning of our interview, which speaks to the prevalence of this issue. While Scripps Performing Arts Academy Artistic Director Miah Nwosu has never directly experienced this type of subliminal messaging, she says she has “had many meetings with parents of students who had a similar attitude towards their child’s desire to pursue the artform professionally and with students who were fielding those types of statements from school friends, counselors and teachers.” However, the abounding positivity, resilience, and strong ability to deal with disapproval and rejection is evident in each interviewee’s next breath. To the naysayers, Friscia maturely states, “the people in my life who are important to me take my career choice seriously, [while] the rest are simply noise.”
Kalena Tano and Jayne Friscia, the ballerina brains behind On the Other Foot Podcast
As Nwosu suggests next, perhaps these microaggressions come from a general misunderstanding of the usefulness of artistic skills in the workforce. She believes that this negative view of pursuing the arts “occurs in large part due to the fact that people aren’t aware of the many ways you can work in the performing arts and utilize professional dance training in and outside of the studio.” It seems that many are also unaware of the sheer work and dedication it takes to pursue an artistic career. Davis said that the Dance Center of Spokane was quite literally her second home as she worked from 9am to 9pm at the studio every day while trying to save her business. Likewise, Friscia paints an accurate picture of the exhaustive list of tasks dancers must complete daily. She says, “I have to choreograph for class and for my club Ballet Irvine, prepare combinations for the classes I teach, do strengthening exercises for my feet, sew pointe shoes, and practice preventative measures for my body.” Nwosu brings light to the many hats artistic directors and studio owners wear during long work days, describing a very atypical and demanding schedule as follows: “As a co-owner of the studio and artistic director of the school and our youth ballet company, my responsibilities run the gamut from setting up our billing system in our online management software to creating weekly lesson plans for my students’ weekly lessons to making headpieces and scheduling social media posts. I generally spend 4-6 hours working from my home office on more administrative computer related tasks and then another 4-6 hours teaching.”
Despite the intense preparation it takes to teach an effective dance class, instructors are often not compensated for this time working outside the studio. On this subject, Nwosu relates that “since I’m the business owner it’s all included in my salary, but prior to that, there is no additional prep time compensation that is included in addition to whatever your hourly teaching rate is.” Davis acknowledges this discrepancy and as a result, she makes sure her own employees are compensated for any outside work they do, such as gluing headpieces or speaking at a fundraising event. Davis also pays for the music her instructors use in dance class and provides live pianists. However, she is not compensated for her own work outside the studio and instead says she views the success of her business as compensation. Davis is also unable to compensate teachers for the time it takes to prepare lesson plans for each class. Perhaps the general inability of studios to compensate teachers for time crafting lesson plans is due to the fact that this preparation often takes place inside one’s home and is thus difficult to track. When one lives with a dancer, coming home to the sight of them trying (and sometimes failing) not to kick the wall as they mark and choreograph movements then proceed to scribble them in a notebook is a common occurrence.
Miah Nwosu, the Artistic Director of the Scripps Performing Arts Academy, pictured in my childhood dance studio
Since class preparation and completion of extra studio administrative tasks occurs in the homes of dance instructors, professional dancers, dance students, artistic directors,etc and one often takes on many of these roles at once while working in the dance world, most dance professionals comment that it is a struggle to balance their work and personal lives. Both Nwosu and Friscia agree that they are continuously focused on what needs to be done in their dance lives as what one does outside the studio contributes to the successful operation of activities inside the studio. However, the two artists emphasize the importance of stopping to recharge and practice self-care regularly as a dancer’s work is never truly done. As if this fact was not overwhelming enough, a dancers’ online life is subject to a similar blur between the personal and the professional as Tano points out. She says that “ a lot of the parents of kids I teach follow me on Instagram and vice versa,” and, as a result, “ I [keep] my social media as professional as possible in order to be a good role model for my students.” Despite her efforts, Tano sometimes finds that “since I teach at the studio I grew up in, [...] sometimes I do feel like everyone sees me as really young and inexperienced. While that’s not the most inaccurate thing, [...] sometimes parents who don’t know me can confuse me for a dancer [at the studio], which can sometimes be difficult.” Although Davis is occasionally overwhelmed from social media as she is constantly responding to messages from customers, she appreciates the effectiveness and ease of social media and email and comments that they helped immensely in growing her business. In fact, Davis’s studio has grown by over 100 students in the last year. Yet the ease of social media and the fact that she now has extra help from her daughters and a secretary does not erase the thirty four years of hard work it took Davis to get to where she is today. Perhaps the reason why microaggressions are extra hurtful to those pursuing careers in the dance world is due to the all-consuming nature of the craft. The blur between one’s work and personal life makes these comments more upsetting. Despite these difficulties, Tano says “being a teacher is a hard job, but the reason we try to appreciate our teachers as much as possible is because of the sacrifices we all see teachers making in order to provide knowledge to young kids.”
Shari Davis, Owner and Company Director of the Dance Center of Spokane, pictured with her students
Given these struggles, what can be done to heighten the legitimacy of a dance career and address the problem of unpaid labor in the dance world? Both Friscia and Tano emphasize that unions such as the American Guild of Musical Artists could help immensely in addressing the problem of the “hidden” labor of the dance sphere that goes uncompensated, although participation in these unions can be expensive. Tano and Nwosu also mention the importance of greater public funding, and Friscia concurs with the assertion that “society values salary. Until employers of artists demonstrate that they are able to provide a living wage for their employees, dance (and art in general) will be looked down upon as a frivolous career.” Tano again mentions the impact of media, although in a slightly different context: “I think that documentaries and movies should try to be more accurate about the way that they present the dance world; We have so many movies about ballet that are so dramatic and hyperbolized[...] I think that if we made a movie that was honest about ballet, people would be really interested because our lives [...] are jam-packed with a lot of conflict and hard choices that are not acknowledged as much as they should be.” Davis has a slightly different outlook, acknowledging the ways in which dance has already grown more legitimate in the eyes of society through recent years. She relates how the live streaming of world-class ballet companies’ activities on World Ballet Day has given audiences a unique, real look into a ballet dancer’s life. Davis also mentions that the #boysdancetoo movement incited by Lara Spencer’s jokes about Prince George’s pursuit of ballet on Good Morning America has shown people that dance is a legitimate career option, even for boys. Since that national occurrence, Davis confirms that she has seen more boys in her dance classroom. For readers looking for tangible ways they themselves can help ameliorate the situation, Tano and Nwosu urge one to attend the ballet and take a dance class to heighten one’s respect for the art form.
Perhaps even more important than unions, public funding, national news coverage, and ballet attendance is inspiring and building up artists to pursue their passion no matter what is thrown at them. Nwosu wisely states that “rather than focusing on trying to change the perception of society, I think it’s important to focus on building up the artist to pursue their passion and art in spite of it. To develop confidence and educate them on all of the ways, in addition to a performing career, they can continue to work in and for dance to continue to move it forward.” Friscia expands on this, underscoring the significance of “raising female dancers to understand that they should not stay in companies that don’t treat them as valuable employees [...] Often, female dancers are raised to believe they are dispensable, so they act as such. A generation of more self-important female dancers wouldn’t be a bad thing.” Friscia continues by drawing one’s attention to the importance of frank conversations on what a dance career entails, commenting that “as a dance teacher and the older sister of a dancer, I think that having conversations about salary and body image with young dancers is crucial. Sugar coating what it is to be a dancer only sets younger artist up for failure! Communication above all else is crucial in dance!”
Davis pictured with more ballet students at her studio
If there’s one thing these talented artists, business owners, professional dancers, and dance teachers agreed on the most, it was that a dance career is worth the struggle that comes with it. Davis says that the studio was her first home, and that doing what one loves is important and worth the ups and downs. Seeing her students grow is the ultimate reward. In this vein, Tano’s closing advice is to “always thank your dance teachers and make sure to continue to give back to them by showing them where you’re at now and giving them credit for the knowledge they gave you.” Given these artists’ immense love for their craft and desire to share it with others despite formidable societal obstacles, could it be that monetizing one’s artistic passion is a countercultural act of power that demonstrates both self and community love, rather than a necessary evil of a capitalist, STEM-focused society? If this is true, Instead of anxiously muttering, “at least I’m doing what I love,” the dancer, like Tano, can confidently and happily say, “I honestly love the work so it is all worthwhile.”
A special thank you to my dance friends, colleagues, and mentors that donated their time and valuable insight to make this article happen:
Kalena Tano @tano_tomato (a wonderful friend and birthday twin from my time at Southern California Ballet) and Jayne Friscia (Kalena’s talented colleague who I’ve had the pleasure of meeting during the writing process) @jayneannfriscia of On The Other Foot podcast @otherfoot.pod (Go give their pod a listen and check out their blog, it is fun and highly informative!)
https://otherfootpod.wixsite.com/podcast/blog
Shari Davis, owner and Company Director at the Dance Center of Spokane (and my mom’s high school classmate!)
https://www.dancecenterofspokane.com/
Miah Nwosu, Artistic Director of the Scripps Performing Arts Academy (and my childhood ballet teacher!)
https://scrippsperformingartsacademy.com/
https://www.instagram.com/spaa_sd/
https://www.instagram.com/scrippsballet/
