Theresa Ruth Howard: Equity in Ballet

Host Anna Robb sits down with Teresa Ruth Howard, former ballerina, journalist, and founder of Mob Ballet (Memoirs of Blacks in Ballet), a groundbreaking initiative preserving and amplifying the history of Black dancers in classical ballet. Recognized by the New York Times as a force for change, Teresa has become one of the industry’s leading voices in diversity, equity, inclusion, and anti-racism—advising institutions like Pacific Northwest Ballet, the Royal Ballet, Dutch National Ballet, and English National Ballet.

As president of From Here to Diversity Inc and curator of initiatives such as Reframing the Narrative and Pathways to Performance at the Kennedy Center, she merges artistry with advocacy to reshape ballet’s cultural landscape. Through her latest project, the Oasis Dance Journal, she continues to challenge systemic barriers and open dialogue across the field. With vision, courage, and persistence, Teresa is redefining what it means for ballet to truly reflect the world it serves.

Enjoy this thought-provoking glimpse into their conversation—and don’t forget to join us next week for the full episode.

What set you on the path from ballet dancer to advocate, writer, and organizer—and how did Mob Ballet begin?

Teresa traces her advocacy to “a big mouth and a platform.” After dancing in Philadelphia and with Dance Theatre of Harlem, she also wrote for Dance Magazine and maintained a blog, MyBodyMyImage. Around 2014–2015, as Misty Copeland rose to become ABT’s first Black female principal, Teresa noticed a troubling narrative forming: press and myth‐making that unintentionally erased earlier Black ballerinas. She published “The Mysterious Case of the Vanishing Ballerinas of Color,” restoring names and context—and invited readers to add more names in the comments. The outpouring became a “roll call,” catalyzing Mob Ballet (Memoirs of Blacks in Ballet). Invitations followed to speak with companies about diversity and the systemic patterns that keep representation low. In short, her lived experience, journalistic lens, and community response converged, moving her from observer to organizer.

What structural barriers in ballet keep diversity and equity from taking root—and do they look the same worldwide?

The mechanisms are systemic, but they present differently by culture. In the U.S., bias can be overt; in the U.K., more buttoned-up and passive-aggressive; in the Netherlands, sometimes more direct. Lines aren’t only racial—class and immigration status often shape access. While cost is frequently cited, Teresa notes ballet is largely a middle-class art form; saying “there are few Black ballet dancers because of economics” wrongly implies there’s no Black middle class. Other gatekeeping ideas include body stereotypes and a thin, prescriptive view of the “right” ballet body. Representation itself matters: when young people don’t see anyone like them succeeding, they stop “choosing themselves” for that path. Institutions mirror these forces: decision-makers may avoid the topic out of fear of being labeled racist, which shuts down conversation and stalls change. Teresa’s early work focused on getting leaders into a room, reducing defensiveness, and moving from unconscious, inherited beliefs to conscious, accountable choices.

Is the problem mainly “aesthetics”—the pristine line and classical ideal—and how can companies rethink that without losing ballet’s core?

Teresa asks a clarifying question: What is ballet, exactly? Is it a fixed aesthetic image (the uniform white line of swans), the “ideal” body, or is it the technique and movement quality? If the essence is technique, then many bodies can embody it. She encourages leaders to “own” the aesthetic standard they’re holding and test its elasticity. Ballet has always evolved—from Petipa’s recompositions to Balanchine’s neoclassicism—so treating the form as a static museum piece is ahistorical. The real elasticity lies in people, not an inanimate art form: artistic directors are the deciders who can choose differently. Once that’s acknowledged, companies can intentionally broaden casting, repertoire, and storytelling. This also prompts a larger identity conversation for government-subsidized “national” companies: pride once rested in projecting a singular national image; today many also prize being international magnets for talent. Letting go of narrow nationalistic aesthetics opens the door to contemporary relevance without abandoning rigor.

Is the pipeline improving—and what actually turns a broader pipeline into sustained representation onstage and in leadership?

Yes—and it’s a system. You need participants in the pipeline, and gatekeepers willing to hire and promote them. Teresa notes dancers have historically trained to high levels only to “cycle out” when jobs don’t materialize—so hiring is the hinge. Time matters: “it takes ten years to make a dancer,” and we’re now seeing cohorts trained under newer inclusion efforts entering companies. She cites the 2019 Mob Ballet Symposium class, many of whom are now dancing professionally. She also offers an instructive example from the Prix de Lausanne: when Asian dancers’ results lagged, the Prix invested in regional workshops clarifying standards; a decade later, Asian dancers are frequently among the top finishers and populate companies across ranks. Brazil is another current source of talent (particularly men). The lesson: targeted investment plus clear benchmarks, consistent opportunity, and visible advancement through ranks yield durable diversity. Representation begets participation—if companies actually hire, feature, and promote those dancers.

How do colorism and cultural identity politics complicate progress—and can culture really change fast?

Colorism—privileging those perceived closer to white—operates inside and beyond ballet. Aesthetic logics like “not breaking the line” can reward skin tones that blend at distance, subtly funneling opportunities to lighter-skinned dancers. Teresa references history (e.g., Raven Wilkinson’s passing, Janet Collins being asked to lighten her skin) as evidence of long-standing pressures that intersect with global beauty norms (e.g., skin-lightening markets, status connotations of paleness in parts of Asia). Meanwhile, “national” companies wrestle with identity: once stages projected a homogenous national image, but post-colonial migration and global hiring complicate what, say, “British” or “Dutch” looks like. If audiences are diverse and companies are truly public institutions, whose stories get told—and by whom—must shift too, broadening choreographic voices and narratives. On pace: culture can be glacial or immediate. The pandemic showed rapid, global behavior change when stakes were clear. Likewise, equity shifts when leaders and communities decide to give up entrenched habits. Change isn’t mystic; it’s choices—hiring, casting, commissioning, promoting—made differently, repeatedly, and in public.

Key Takeaways:

• History Matters: Narratives that celebrate “firsts” often erase those who came before. Teresa founded Mob Ballet to reclaim and preserve the overlooked legacy of Black ballerinas.

• Barriers Are Systemic, Not Individual: Ballet’s lack of diversity isn’t explained by economics or “ideal bodies,” but by structural exclusion, hiring practices, and aesthetics rooted in narrow, Eurocentric traditions.

• Representation Fuels Participation: When dancers don’t see people like themselves in companies, they stop “choosing themselves.” Building pipelines only works if gatekeepers are willing to hire and promote diverse talent.

• Aesthetics Can Evolve: Ballet has always changed—from Petipa to Balanchine—and can continue to grow by broadening its definition of who belongs onstage and whose stories get told.

• Change Is a Choice: Culture can shift quickly, as COVID proved. Equity in ballet depends on leaders and institutions making different decisions—hiring, casting, commissioning, and storytelling with intention.

Main Image: Courtesy of Theresa Ruth Howard