Pointes and Perspective #47 Why Do It?

Why Do It?

Just today, I attended a faculty meeting at a competitive recreational dance school where I’m on staff. The director was sharing about a competition and convention the school attended over the weekend. It was inspiring on many levels, for her, for the faculty, and especially for the dancers.

She spoke honestly about the caliber of dancers they saw. The level was exceptionally high. She acknowledged what we already knew, that many of those schools train significantly more hours than we do. The difference in level made sense. Still, she posed an important question.

Even if our dancers don’t train as many hours, could they be focusing differently?

Could we be training them differently?

How do we push them to give their absolute best so that the hours they do have are quality hours?

One faculty member offered that dancers who train many, many hours rely heavily on muscle memory. Their technique lives in their bodies, so they don’t have to think about it as much. It’s just there. That explanation made sense, but it didn’t fully answer the deeper question we were asking. What can we do for our students?

I shared that dancers training a significant number of hours a week will naturally develop a level of muscle memory that supports elite technique. But for dancers training far fewer hours, intention matters more. Purpose matters more. They have to be precise with how they apply correction, how they approach technique, and how they focus. Fewer hours means they must be more deliberate.

After the meeting, I began my commute to the university where I teach, and my mind kept spinning. How do we help students apply themselves purposefully?

Somewhere between traffic lights, my thoughts drifted to the upcoming Olympics. I started thinking about world-class athletes and how they motivate themselves. That led me to self-motivation, and then to the bigger realization. Self-motivation is a choice.

You have to take ownership of your own improvement. But how do we teach that to young dancers?

Our students are overloaded. Their lives are full, their schedules packed, and their brains are still developing. They’re juggling school, family, friendships, commitments, and expectations. They are trying to prioritize what is important to them. Self-motivation doesn’t naturally rise to the top of that list.

And that’s when I realized that this is where mentorship comes in.

I’ve watched many of my students grow. Not just technically, but personally. And I know much of that growth comes from the relationships I intentionally build with them. The conversations I start. The trust I cultivate. Through those connections, I can communicate something powerful. Their potential! Even the parts they haven’t tapped into yet.

Through mentorship, we can invite students into the larger world of dance and help them fall in love with it on a deeper level. Love for the art is contagious. Passion spreads. Sometimes it’s not about pushing harder, it’s about igniting something. We can expose students to artists through film, books, performances, alumni speakers, guest artists, documentaries.

Quality time matters. When students see our love for the art, when they feel it in the room, they absorb it. As mentors, we can help place them “in the room”, in the space, where a lightbulb moment can happen.

I still remember mine.

The first day I walked into the Joffrey Ballet School in New York City, I was nervous and afraid. But the moment I entered that studio, the space, the energy, the dancers, the live accompaniment, I felt it instantly. The bug bit. The lightbulb went off.

This is what I want to do.

Not every student finds that moment on their own. Sometimes, we have to lead them there.

To do that, we have to be relatable. Likable. Human. We all remember that one teacher in high school. The one who played current music, who connected with us, whose classroom felt alive. That was the room we wanted to be in.

As educators, we must be both mentors and authority figures, setting boundaries, planning intentionally, and teaching students how to train wisely within the time they have. We need to help our students understand time, and the lack of it. Time is scarce. That matters. We need to listen. Truly listen. Help them create personal plans based on what they’re feeling and what they’re striving for.

When students know we’re committed to them, to their goals, their growth, and their “why”, something shifts. We become their Olympic personal trainers of sorts, walking alongside them. When we understand why they dance, they’re more driven to accomplish things with us. That partnership creates culture, and that culture elevates everyone.

Recently, Nike released a campaign that replaced their iconic slogan “Just Do It” with something far more reflective:

“Why do it?”

What’s your why?

What drives you?

What keeps you showing up when time is limited and motivation wavers?

Maybe that’s the real work. Not just training bodies, but helping young dancers discover their reason for dancing at all.

Because when they know their why, the hours, no matter how few, begin to matter more.