Why Is There Still a
Boys Who Dance?
Although TV shows positively portray male dancers, the stigma hasn't been fully erased. Here, Cole Mills partners Hannahlei Cabanilla on "So You Think You Can Dance." Photo by Adam Rose, Courtesy Fox
What is it about men in tights that makes people react so irrationally?
Especially here in the U.S., men are ridiculed and demeaned for choosing to dance, particularly in ballet. Boys are bullied, called f****t and labeled as "homo," hostile charges that impale the soul.
I remember quite clearly classmates and even my own family members calling me a sissy for studying ballet back in the 1960s and '70s. What terrified me was that they might discover I was gay when I wasn't even sure what to call my sexual orientation. I just wanted to dance.
You'd think things would have gotten much better, but many boys still face these issues.
That's a puzzle to me because there is now so much more exposure to dance in the media: "Dancing with the Stars," "So You Think You Can Dance," "World of Dance,"not to mention all the videos that suck you into the YouTube vortex. Don't we see the fierce dedication, hard work and athleticism that goes into creating a male dancer? Is that really only a dream for women?
Unfortunately, that much media exposure does not seem to enlighten those who disdain male dancers. A lack of understanding about dance continues to drive the homophobic reactions of bullies and bigots. Maybe this is because arts education programs that formerly provided students with exposure to the performing arts have been slashed or decreased in some areas. Little that doesn't represent machismo and monetization is considered valid.
Data compiled by Doug Risner, a professor of dance at Wayne State University in Detroit, shows that only 32 percent of male dancers have fathers who support their desire to dance. Typically, American dads only want their sons to be athletic on the sports field. Adding music and ballet technique—or tap dancing, contemporary movement, ballroom or jazz steps—to physicality somehow makes that pursuit unforgivably girlish.
Much of this poisonous attitude springs from misogyny—currently permeating American politics and society—and the notion that the worst thing a man can do is to emulate what is perceived as exclusively female behavior.
Additionally, a fear of anything different from the cultural norm adds a xenophobic taint to public opinion. It probably doesn't help that ballet vocabulary is French (too froufrou) or that it's considered a Russian art form (too subversive—maybe even Communist!).
The performing arts in the U.S. have often been stamped suspiciously as "the other." For starters, look at the investigation of accomplished artists by the House Un-American Activities Committee in the 1950s. The verdict: Artists=abnormal, deviant, perverse.
Still, I have hope that consciousness is changing. Millennials and Gen Z show far more tolerance towards flexible gender definitions. According to a study by The Intelligence Group, a consumer research institution, more than two-thirds of those interviewed between the ages of 14 to 34 say that gender doesn't determine behavior or life aspirations as it once did.
I am also heartened to see better boys' programs in ballet schools nationwide that allow for boys to train with other boys so they won't feel so isolated in their ambitions. These opportunities also give young men a chance to discuss bullying and teasing and to discover ways to defuse verbal and physical assaults.
Smothering creative impulses can kill the spirit. I was lucky to survive the abuse and ignorance that derailed other young men. I don't want to see that happen to anyone else.
James Whiteside (Jayme Thornton for Dance Magazine)
Say you're perpetually impeccable designer Thom Browne. Say you're planning your Spring 2020 Paris menswear show along a "Versailles country club" theme. Say you want a world-class danseur to open the show with some kind of appropriately fabulous choreography.
Who do you call? James Whiteside, of course. On Saturday, the American Ballet Theatre principal—wearing pointe shoes and a glorious pinstriped tutu—kicked off Browne's presentation at the École des Beaux-Arts with a 15-minute, show-stealing solo. Whiteside choreographed the piece himself, with the help of detailed notes from the designer.
I'd been a professional dancer for five years when I realized the pain I'd been feeling in my hip and down my sciatic nerve was not going away. I had been treating it for two years as we dancers do—with regular visits to my masseuse, physical therapy, baths, ice and lots of Aleve—but I never stopped dancing. It finally dawned on me that if I kept going at the speed I was going (which was, well, speedy), the pain would only get more severe and unrelenting, and I might never dance again.
I told myself I'd take two months off, and all would be better.
That first morning when I woke up at 10 am, I had no idea what to do with myself. My life until that moment had been dictated by class and rehearsal, every hour accounted for. How should I fill the huge swath of time ahead of me?