After similar observations in ballet schools and museums in Austin, Kansas City, New York and Los Angeles, my travels took me to the African American Museum in Philadelphia. Actors on interactive screens told tales of early influencers who shaped their city and nation. Art brought untold stories to vivid life. I was reminded of Seattle's Wing Luke Museum where art and stories of Asian Americans offer reminders of the injustice done to thousands through forced relocation and incarceration in internment camps on the west coast during World War II.

My last stop was Dayton, Ohio, for the International Association of Blacks in Dance and a two-day conference as part of the Equity Project: Increasing the Presence of Blacks in Ballet. The conference prompts dialogue and awareness that is both daunting and motivating. We spoke about what ballet has always been, and what a well-curated future might create.

Like the Birmingham News reports, it's too easy to rationalize that I wasn't responsible for the imbalance that exists today. Another generation skewed the system and, though unfortunate, it wasn't my doing. It's not my fault. But what our generation of dance leaders must realize is we hold the cards for change. It doesn't matter whose fault it was, systemic racism exists and those in power can start to correct unfair and inequitable practices and patterns.

There was a growing realization in the conference room that our companies, representing many more, held the power to lead by example, offering opportunities to people of color, presenting diverse programming and ushering in a new era. The cohort identified the overwhelming whiteness of artistic directors, executive directors, staff, audiences, students, choreographers, composers and board members. There was a lot of counting fingers. We dug in to difficult subjects like implicit bias and colorism. We discussed barriers, programs and pink tights. The conference laid bare the massive work and responsibilities ahead. We took strength from each other and guidance from our facilitators.

Organizers had requested headshots of each company's dancers to mount on the walls, resulting in a handsome portrait gallery. Our wallpaper was pale, but there were shades of change. Every company was changing, but ever so slightly. PNB is 28 percent dancers of color, but we have only one black dancer out of 50. One.

For two days, we sat among hundreds of images of dancers—a generation younger than those of us in the room. They looked a bit more like the populations of our cities and our country than we did, but nowhere near the artists represented in America's museums. The art world, through careful and deliberate curation of nontraditional and under-represented artists is opening doors to a whole swath of the population.

To see the lines of black girls and brown girls and their families hoping to purchase a ticket to see Misty Copeland in Swan Lake at the Met is to see what ballet can be. Let's not let this be an isolated incident. Ballet is for everyone.

By the close of the conference, we realized change was in the room. The answer was in the room: it always is, one just has to define "room" and embrace the challenging and rewarding work that must be done. It's on me—it's on us.