Pointes and Perspective #51 What's In A Name

What’s In A Name

This week, I taught a guest class. Before it began, I was introduced to the students as a former professional ballerina. And in the moment, I smiled. I nodded. I stepped forward and taught.

But later that night, I found myself sitting with it. I wish I had been introduced differently. I wish I had been introduced as a professional dance educator. That thought surprised me at first. Because the truth is, I am proud of my time as a professional ballerina. Deeply proud. It represents years of discipline, sacrifice, artistry, and growth. It shaped me.

But it is only part of me.

Somewhere along the way, that part stopped being the part I lead with. What I am most proud of now, and what feels the most true to who I am, is my work as an educator.

So why did it bother me?

At first, I thought it was about identity. About wanting to be seen fully, accurately, in the present rather than the past. But the more I sat with it, the more another layer revealed itself.

Is that the introduction we feel we need? To lead with “professional ballerina” in order to be taken seriously? To impress? To validate? Because if that’s the case, that’s a little disheartening.

Not all professional dancers become great teachers. And not all great teachers were professional dancers. There is a difference between someone who can do, and someone who can teach. There are many people who can give a class. There are far fewer who can truly teach one.

I found myself hoping, really hoping, that these young dancers would come to understand that difference. That they would learn to value not just the résumé, but the experience. Not just the title, but the impact. Because the weight of a truly great educator is something you don’t always recognize immediately, but it stays with you. I always promise to give my students “something to take home” with them!

And maybe that responsibility doesn’t fall on the introduction at all. Maybe it falls on us. On directors, to honor and speak about educators with the same reverence we give to performers. On institutions, to recognize that the ability to dance at the highest level is not the same as the ability to teach it. On all of us, to begin saying the names of great teachers as often as we say the names of great dancers. To remind students that the lineage of dance is not only in the companies they see on stage, but in the teachers who shaped those performers. Think of the names of great educators - Balanchine, Vaganova, Doubrovska, Joffrey and countless others - whose teaching created generations of dancers. Because if we want dancers to understand what “high level” truly means, we have to show them. Not just tell them.

After class, the director approached me. She told me the class was wonderful. That the students were engaged. That the environment felt positive and focused. And then she said something that settled everything for me…

That I was an inspiring teacher.

And in that moment, I realized. THAT was the introduction that mattered. Not the one that came before I taught. But the one that was earned after I did. Because who we are isn’t defined in the way we’re announced. It’s revealed in the way we show up.

And maybe there is still work to do, in how we introduce, how we value, and how we speak about the role of the educator. Work I am proud to be part of.

I realized that a great class would inspire just as deeply, no matter what title came before it.

In the words of William Shakespeare, “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other word would smell as sweet.”