The dance community is its own little universe filled full of amazing people and experiences. It's a place where strangers become friends, where music becomes conversation, where movement becomes connection. For many of us, it’s our escape, our therapy, our social circle, our “I worked a full shift but I need this class” motivation.
But let’s be real. As magical as dance is, the community isn’t always as kind as it pretends to be. There are nights when you walk into a social and feel welcomed, and others when you feel invisible. There are people who hype you up on the dance floor… and people who act like smiling is going to cost them rent. There are dancers who remember what it’s like to be new, nervous, or still learning and others who forget they started somewhere too.
And honestly? It doesn’t have to be like that.
We forget how vulnerable dance actually is. Partner dance requires trust. Solo dance requires confidence. Class requires humility. Every single person who shows up is putting their ego, their body, and their insecurities on display. That alone deserves respect. We never know what someone fought through just to walk into the studio that day. Anxiety, body-image issues, heartbreak, a long work shift, or simply the courage to try something new. The least we can offer each other is kindness.
We should hype each other up, not compete with each other 👏 Dance isn’t a competition… unless you’re literally in a competition. But in socials, classes, and festivals? We’re all just humans trying to enjoy music together.
There’s room for everyone:
The beginners, the naturals, the slow learners, the people who come for the socializing, the people who come for the grind, the “once in a while” dancers, the “every damn night” dancers, The floor is big enough for all of us!
So next time you're on the dance floor try giving:
- A smile.
- A “good job.”
- A “thank you for the dance.”
- A quick hello to someone who looks lost.
- Inviting someone new to a group picture.
- Telling someone you enjoyed dancing with them.
- Asking someone if they want to join your group for food after class/social.
These tiny acts become the difference between someone feeling like they belong… or feeling like they’ll never come back.
We can’t control others, but we can control who we are. People will still be rude, cliquey, insecure, or cold. It happens. But we get to choose to be better. We get to make the dance space warmer, safer, and more fun. We get to be the people who uplift instead of intimidate. We get to be the kind of dancers we wish we had around when we started. And when enough of us choose kindness?
The whole community changes.