The Dangerous Rhetoric of Dance Moms

A “new era” of Dance Moms has arrived, and every parent, educator, and stakeholder invested in the integrity of child welfare, dance education, and gender equity needs to raise the red flag and scream “STOP!”

For far too long, the pariahs of competitive dance have diminished the power and progress of dance education, especially as it relates to the often women owned and operated private sector of dance studios. It should come as no shock that the morally ambiguous hawks of reality television swooped in and decided to make a complete and utter mockery of it. 

We could talk about why the executive (male) producer preyed on women and girl children in their casting to perpetuate toxic gender stereotypes, within the art form, and quite frankly, within patriarchal institutions of society.

Or, we could talk about how both primary studio representations selected for the show were riddled with long-term financial problems, perpetuating a stereotype that women cannot be successful, grounded business owners with a strong sense of leadership and entrepreneurial acumen. 


But, what we really need to talk about is what this show has normalized as a cultural standard for children and dance. 

The result of this “new era” is something so exploitive, harmful, and triggering that anyone and everyone invested in the longevity of dance education should be deeply concerned. 


My life’s work has been dedicated to elevating the premise of dance education and the youth extracurricular experience. At 22 years old, in 2009, I opened Stage Door Dance Productions in Raleigh, NC. In 2011, the first iteration of Dance Moms was released. We’ve been running parallel for over a decade.  I’ve watched Dance Moms change our industry- and not for the better. This show encouraged people to push for more provocative costumes, more inappropriate routines, and created a craving for unnecessary drama between students, staff, and parents. 

This was the antithesis to my vision. 

So, I pulled the plug and held the line. 

I removed my dance studios entirely from the competitive dance space and focused on a rebrand that would teach all of our students to be excellent dancers, but even more importantly, we would help support and develop amazing humans and leaders. It would be safe, equitable, unified, and focused on community impact and artistic evolution. 

My approach inspired others in an underground, speakeasy kind of way. Messages or calls would come through with people curious about how “I got out” of the competition trap.

To help those wishing to remain nameless, I decided to write a book called Trash the Trophies: How to Win Without Losing Your Soul as a roadmpa for others hoping to tiptoe away from toxicity. Published in 2020, I still receive daily messages about trauma related to the competitive dance arena- from parents, participants, teachers, and studio owners. 


Many of the most concerning trends I identified directly correlate to industry shifts stemming from the mass social acceptance of Dance Moms.

Even more concerning? 

In recent months, people have shared that the book has been banned in a number of studios  and communities. If the book is  mentioned, the people mentioning it risk losing their job or their spot on the team. 

When we are silencing voices that are speaking out about dangerous, toxic behaviors, we have to wave the red flag. Why are people so eager to shut down the dialogue of healthy, alternative dance education models? 


There is a deep, almost cult like fear tied to shifting away from competitive dance. Why? On the competition side, there’s money (billions of dollars, to be exact), power, and greed at play. On the studio and dancer side, there’s a misconception that participation is required in order to be a successful performer or studio (both are false).

In my book, I include a quote from Gary Pate, Owner of Starpower Competitions.

He says, “People don’t want to watch a goody-two-shoes dance teacher. They want to see dysfunction.” 

The last thing we should want to promote around children is dysfunction. 

And, yet this is what the competitive dance arena breeds. 

Television has simply identified the absurdity and capitalized on it. 


In this “new era”, we have young dancers performing a group routine called “Body Bags” about fentanyl overdoses. To drive the children’s emotional connection to the performance, the instructor, Gloria Hampton (“Glo”) has the mothers write the children’s names on body bags prior to going on stage. Then, the children perform saute arabesques, acrobatic passes, complex turn sequences, and headsprings until it is each child’sturn to zip their body in a bag because they have “overdosed”. The child metaphorically dies in the routine based on how hard they worked in rehearsals. On Hampton’s Facebook, she praises this routine as the dance she is the “most proud of”.

For me, it felt like a calculated emotional grab, using children. 

Honestly, you wouldn’t even know the routine was about fentanyl overdoses unless you saw the reality show package beforehand. If you only watch the performance, it just looks like children are dancing a well-executed contemporary routine and zipping themselves into body bags.

Tortured child souls seems to be a trend in the show. 

There’s a routine about Baby Jessica falling into a well.

And, a solo inspired by the murder JonBenet Ramsey- complete with choreographed strangling. 

And, for lighter viewing, a routine inspired by the film The Menu. 

If you know current events and pop culture, this is highly topical material.

It is child exploitation upon child exploitation. 

In the name of trophies. 

In the name of ratings. 

In the name of 10 seconds of fame. 


These examples only touch on the performance element; it doesn’t take into account the questionably abusive behavior in the educational/ rehearsal environment as well as the strained relationships between the mothers and the children. 

This is not how children should be treated, educated, or trained. 

The media’s sensationalized normalization of these environments for mass consumption does not represent the standards in which many of us subscribe. 

Children watch this show.

They think this is what dance looks like.

Parents watch this show.

They think this is what dance looks like. 

And, as a collective industry, we are not immune from the repercussions of this representation. 

We have to fight it. 


In a cringeworthy interview with Vanity Fair, showrunner and executive producer Bryan Stinson, said he sold his soul to Dance Moms. When questioned about “getting away” with approaching such heavy topics, Stinson suggested kids should find the humor in everything. 

He may feel that way, but I don’t. 

I deem it irresponsible and harmful.

To the children.

To our industry.

Who is protecting the children? 

Integrity isn’t really isn’t up to Hulu or the reality tv show producers, beyond baseline child labor and entertainment laws. They’re looking at ratings and commercial dollars. 

Instead, it must be a call to action to the institutions, educators, and parents that believe in the true power of dance when it is presented in an age appropriate way that is healthy instead of harmful. 

We have to advocate for what we know is right. When something feels off, we have to call it out in an actionable way. We have to stop participating. We have to stop watching. We have to put our voices in the arena.  Even when we are bullied, shamed, blacklisted, or gaslit (I’ve been all of them), we have to stand for what we know is right in regards to safe, developmentally appropriate dance spaces. 

Then, and only then, will dance education receive the reputation it deserves versus the dangerous rhetoric it currently receives.


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