The Myth of Inclusive Ballet

I moved out of my home at age 15 for ballet training, and I danced professionally before attending university. Perhaps naturally, upwards of 20 people sent me messages regarding a news controversy: A male dancer who goes by “Sophie Rebecca” began dancing at age 33 in 2014, became the first openly transgender person to pass the Royal Academy of Dance (RAD) exams, and has since been the subject of a British Vogue profile, a BBC Stories feature, and, more recently, some misguided conservative outrage.

The hostile criticism toward Sophie Rebecca contains inaccuracies — but glorifying transgenderism in ballet is insane, because the dance style recognizes sex distinctions by prescribing different movements for men and women. Ballet is a highly discriminatory — not inclusive — sport, and the uncompromising standards of the ideal ballerina figure are unachievable for most women, let alone men identifying as women.

Although Sophie Rebecca passed RAD exams years ago, the accomplishment sparked woefully misinformed conservative panic this past week. RAD is a ballet style which fuses features of the French, Italian, Russian, and Danish traditions. The RAD is also a credentialing organization, and Sophie Rebecca claims to have passed five levels of the dance exams, with a merit in Grade 7 and a distinction in Grade 8. Hopefully, the reactionaries will be soothed upon learning that passing these exams is somewhat meaningless; it merely confirms that you have studied the style and does not entail a school acceptance or a job. Uninformed tweets purport that Sophie Rebecca has stolen an admission spot from a qualified, young female dancer for the sake of “diversity,” while others mistake the Royal Academy of Dance for the prestigious Royal Ballet, where Sophie Rebecca never danced as a professional or as a student.

Those criticizing Sophie Rebecca are largely ignorant, but progressives celebrating allegedly unsexed, gender-expansive ballet are moronic. Ballet is defined by sex distinctions: Men and women have distinct skill sets, movements, and roles. Accordingly, boys and girls are often divided into separate classes when training. The men have specific jumps and turns, and boys endure muscle-building exercises to partner the girls. By contrast, women have their own turn movements, and female roles feature flexibility with impressive leg extensions. Even the untrained eye can detect obvious differences in performances. Men lift women — which would go horribly wrong if the roles were reversed. Women wear pointe shoes. (If a man wears pointe shoes onstage, it’s usually for a comedic role, like an ugly stepsister in Cinderella.) Many ballet productions conclude with a grand coda, in which the women execute 32 fouettés (a type of turn) on pointe, and men perform a combination of big jumps and turns.

Disregarding the sex binary in ballet means erasing the art altogether.

But upholding the sex binary does not uniquely or unjustly target self-described “transgender” dancers. Attempts to make ballet “trans-inclusive” are utterly specious because the sport is not even female-inclusive. I’ve known many young women who underwent breast-reduction surgery as an attempt to embody the ideal ballerina figure, which would allow greater ease when turning and jumping. Many companies enforce rigid weight restrictions in their contracts, leading to an eating-disorder culture in which women starve themselves and resort to appetite-suppressant substances, such as Adderall or nicotine. At my own former school, the Rock School for Dance Education, the director would make cowlike “moo” noises at the teenage girls while we ate, and a successful alumna recalled being told to adopt a liquid diet. The standard leotard uniforms and constant exposure to mirrors exacerbate body dysmorphia among girls. When I was 15, I was told by a coach that I needed to lose weight in my face, for a more defined jawline would better portray expressions onstage, and from the back of the audience, apparently, a “pudgy baby face looks like a blob.”

Weight can be personally regulated, but professional ballet also requires being blessed with specific anatomic features which cannot be acquired through hours of training. Women need high arches for pointe — and the girls who weren’t born with the appropriate feet can say goodbye to any career prospects. If they’re too tall, the men won’t be able to partner them, and if they’re too short, they won’t blend in with the other dancers onstage. (Although there are some notable exceptions, such as San Francisco Ballet’s former star Maria Kotchetkova, who is only five feet tall.) Other physical traits are desirable for an aesthetically pleasing presence onstage: a short torso, long legs, a long neck, and a small head. You may have come across deceptive articles advising readers on “How to Get a Ballerina Body,” but you cannot get a ballerina body, no matter how many meals you skip or how often you stretch. You must be born with a ballerina body — a gift so few possess.

Many young girls enter ballet classes, but very few have any career prospects because the sport demands very specific physical traits, many of which are beyond an individual’s control. It is completely reasonable to counter that these physical requisites for excellence in ballet are extreme, even dangerous. However, that is entirely different from the current phenomenon of rigorously enforcing these ideals for aspiring and professional ballerinas while praising self-identified transgender women who fail to meet any criteria. The glowing profiles of overweight or gender-expansive dancers suggest that they are reforming the standards for the entire discipline. It’s quite the opposite: The supposed inspirational role models are being exempted from the standards. Ballet is not inclusive — it is extremely exclusive.

I hope that my comments are not misconstrued to deter amateur practice, or to endorse all the practices and behaviors described above. I am always pleased to learn that others have acquired or deepened an appreciation for ballet, whether that be through practicing dance or watching professionals perform. I maintain that the least valuable skill I learned in training was the ability to execute the movements; I gained discipline, the practice of self-evaluation, an appreciation of constructive criticism, and the ability to withstand hours in uncomfortable shoes (the latter proving particularly helpful when wearing trendy high heels at formal events). I have no issue with adults enjoying recreational ballet practice; rather, I encourage it. Still, ballet is highly discriminatory, and there’s no escaping this reality. Divorcing ballet from sex differences would destroy the art — but perhaps that is precisely what activists seek.