When the Stage Starts to Outshine the Classroom
By Terrill Mitchell of Dupree Dance
Lately, I’ve been sitting with a thought that keeps coming up for me in the convention and competition world: somewhere along the way, the stage has started to matter more than the training.
In conversations with studio owners, directors, students, and even parents, I hear so much talk about routines, scores, placements, costumes, and lighting. I hear far less about class. About growth. About curiosity. And that shift feels worth talking about.
Of course, the classroom is meant to prepare dancers for the stage. That’s not up for debate. Performance matters. Competition can be motivating, validating, and exciting. But when the focus becomes only the stage, something important starts to get lost.
When I was growing up in dance, there was a deep curiosity around training. Dancers wanted to know why something was hard. We chased the classes that exposed our weaknesses instead of avoiding them. We weren’t just trying to look good—we were trying to get better. And there was pride in that process.
Now, I often see dancers gravitate toward what already feels comfortable or what translates most quickly to competition success. Styles they win with. Movement that looks impressive fast. Teachers who confirm what they already do well. Meanwhile, the things that feel awkward, challenging, or unfamiliar get pushed aside.
But that’s where the real work lives.
Training isn’t meant to be easy or instantly rewarding. It’s meant to stretch you. To humble you. To build tools that may not pay off immediately but will matter greatly over time. Technique, musicality, clarity, stamina, versatility—these aren’t always flashy, but they are foundational.
When we prioritize competition outcomes over classroom curiosity, we also shift the language around dance. Dancers start measuring their worth by results instead of growth. Parents and directors unintentionally reinforce that mindset by celebrating wins louder than work. And eventually, the classroom becomes something to “get through” instead of something to dive into.
I would love to see us bring curiosity back into training.
Curiosity to ask questions.
Curiosity to struggle publicly.
Curiosity to take classes that don’t come naturally.
Curiosity to value learning just as much as performing.
Because the strongest, most fulfilled dancers I know didn’t build their careers by chasing scores. They built them by committing to the process, by staying curious long after the trophies stopped being the point.
The stage will always be there. But the classroom is where dancers are truly made. And I hope we can start talking about it just as much.