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I am completely infatuated with ballerinas. Their fluidity, their grace, the absolute superhuman discipline that turns a human body into a vessel of sublime art. It is this obsession that fuels the bulk of my own work, my art, which is comprised almost exclusively of Black ballerinas. I paint their strength, their elegance, their stories. And to tell those stories truthfully, you must understand the brutal, beautiful, and often unacknowledged history of their struggle. This is not a feel good story. It is a story of relentless perseverance in the face of systemic exclusion.

Ballet is not a modern invention. Its origins trace back to the Italian Renaissance courts of the 15th century, formalized in France under Louis XIV, who established the first professional ballet school, the Academie Royale de Danse, in 1661. For over three centuries, this art form was codified, refined, and presented as the exclusive domain of a specific European aesthetic. The very foundations of ballet technique, from the lines of the body to the ethereal presentation, were built upon a paradigm that did not include, and often actively rejected, Black bodies.

The Invisible Burden: Racism, Body Type, and “Line"

One of the most insidious tools of exclusion is the insistence on a “unified line”, corps dancers must look like part of a single organism. That demand has often been weaponized to exclude dancers whose bodies don’t “match” (in the directors’ eyes) the white standard. According to scholarship on dance discrimination, many directors historically viewed curvier bodies, fuller busts, different hip-to-waste proportions, thicker myofascial structure, textured hair, or darker skin as deviations from that line.

This isn’t “taste”, it’s structural discrimination. It punishes Black dancers whose bodies carry genetic and cultural lineage. It forces them to contort, to shrink, to deny their natural form in the name of “clean lines.” That expectation often leads to injury, to self-critique, to erasure of self in the pursuit of acceptability. Couple that with casting bias: in many companies, even today, Black dancers are sidelined for lead roles (or the “white roles”), or told they “don’t fit” simply because of skin color or shape. Ballet still operates, in too many places, as though Black bodies are exceptions or tokens, not bodies to be centered.

The racism Black ballerinas faced and continue to navigate is not always a matter of shouted slurs. It is often a quiet, insidious gatekeeping rooted in "tradition." One of the most pernicious weapons in this arsenal has been the weaponization of body type. The argument, often couched in the language of "aesthetic unity" or "classical lines," was used to exclude Black dancers for decades. They were told their bodies were not right. Their musculature was too pronounced. Their curves disrupted the line. Their feet were not arched enough. This was not a critique of individual ability, but a systemic rejection of Black physiology disguised as an artistic standard. The data reflects this: for the majority of its 400 year history, the professional ballet stage was a near total white space.

Pancaking (Painting) the Skin: The Cost of Invisibility

The practical realities of this exclusion forced Black dancers to innovate not just artistically, but logistically. Here’s a detail so mundane it’s invisible, yet so telling: consider the pointe shoe. Long before the world had “inclusive tones,” Black ballerinas had to “pancake”, paint or powder their pointe shoes, tights, and sometimes leotards to match their skin. That practice began in earnest in the early 1970s. For generations, pointe shoes were manufactured exclusively in shades of "pink" designed to blend with white skin, creating the illusion of a seamless leg line. For a Black dancer, this meant hours of additional, unpaid labor. "Pancaking" their shoes, is a tedious process of applying layers of foundation or paint to match their skin tone.

A dancer must purchase her own makeup, allocate precious pre-rehearsal or pre-performance time to meticulously dye each shoe, and accept that the integrity of the shoe's satin and glue can be compromised, potentially shortening its lifespan. “Pancaking” is not just about aesthetics, it's forced labor of invisibility. It costs money, time, precision, and emotional energy every day, just to make your presence acceptable. And when many budding dancers can’t afford that extra cost, talent is filtered out. Even today, some major pointe shoe brands have only recently introduced skin-tone options.

This is a timely, costly, and physically demanding tax levied for simply existing in a space not designed for you. Yet, against this stark backdrop, the milestones achieved by Black ballerinas are nothing short of revolutionary. They are testaments to a will that refused to be broken. This is not a historical footnote. This practice, is a practice that continues today. The lack of colored shoes, or tights in hues matching deep brown or ebony tones, remains a persistent complaint. Companies or schools sometimes claim they can’t “break the line” by offering multiple skin-tone tights if there are only one or two dancers of color.  The irony: their refusal to accommodate breaks the very line they espouse. The financial burden is real. Beyond tuition, beyond travel, beyond class fees, nonwhite dancers must purchase extra supplies paint, makeup, custom shoes or dyes. That’s economic discrimination by stealth.

When Inclusion Becomes a Token

When a company hires one Black dancer, they often still expect her to match the “pink world.” They resist modifying wardrobes, costume lines, or makeup kits. She’s supposed to assimilate into whiteness. That’s not inclusion, that’s assimilation. Many companies adopt what feels “safe”, token diversity without structural change. They don’t recalibrate their costume shops, their purchasing, their hiring of costume designers or makeup artists who understand melanin. That makes every Black dancer invisibly disruptive. Also, be aware: progress on paper does not always translate to equity in practice. One Black principal doesn’t dismantle decades of systemic bias. Fellow dancers still report micro-aggressions, stereotype policing, demands about hair, skin, shape, etc.

The Trailblazers

The trailblazers are legends whose names should be known to everyone. Raven Wilkinson, in 1955, broke the color barrier by joining the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo, enduring racist threats and being forced to perform in whiteface on tours in the segregated South. Her courage was a seismic event. In 1963, Arthur Mitchell shattered the ultimate ceiling by becoming the first Black principal dancer at New York City Ballet, a company directly under the thumb of its co founder, the legendary and often aesthetically rigid George Balanchine. Mitchell did not stop there. He co-founded the Dance Theatre of Harlem in 1969, creating an institution that proved, unequivocally, that classical ballet could and should be performed by dancers of color.

The victories built on this foundation are profound. In 2015, Misty Copeland was promoted to principal dancer at American Ballet Theatre, a first in the company's 75 year history. Her ascent was not just a personal achievement; it was a cultural reckoning that brought the conversation about race and ballet into mainstream discourse. Other phenomenal artists like Michaela DePrince, (now deceased), who survived war in Sierra Leone to become a professional ballerina, and Francesca Hayward, a principal at The Royal Ballet, are continuing to redefine the global image of a ballerina.

These women did not simply arrive. They carved a path through a granite wall of tradition and prejudice. Their victories are not just about individual talent, but about the systemic dismantling of barriers. The struggle is not over. The conversation about inclusivity, about expanding the definition of a ballet body, about companies finally offering pointe shoes in a spectrum of brown shades, is ongoing.

What This Means for Our Urban, Educated Readers Who Care

You live in neighborhoods where dance studios close after funding cuts, where arts budgets shrink, where Black creativity is often undervalued. Recognizing this struggle is part of dismantling broader cultural erasure. You might walk by a ballet company’s marquee and never see a Black dancer. That absence is not natural. It’s engineered. Support matters: scholarships, advocacy, demanding diversity, consuming art of Black ballerinas, commissioning art (like mine) that centers Black ballet bodies. Tell young dancers: yes, ballet belongs to you too. Support them when costume departments balk. Know their names: Janet Collins, Raven Wilkinson, Debra Austin, Lauren Anderson, Misty Copeland, Charlotte Nebres. Honor their path so we don’t forget how contested the stage was and still is.

My art is a tribute to this ongoing revolution. It is a celebration of the fluidity and grace that first captivated me, now viewed through the powerful, unapologetic lens of Black excellence. The Black ballerina is not an anomaly. She is the embodiment of a dream that was too strong to be denied. Black ballerinas didn’t ask for special treatment. They asked for fairness, shoes they don’t have to repaint, bodies not judged by white norms, access to roles, to resources, to visibility. They asked to live in a ballet world that sees them as natural, not a deviation. We must keep shaming the status quo, pushing costume shops, shoe makers, companies, donors, audiences to do more. Because beauty, grace, fluidity, those are not white by default. They are human.

Meanwhile, keep your eye on these beautiful emerging or mid-career Black ballerinas:

*Charlotte Nebres 
Pre-professional, but symbolic as hell. At age ~11 she became the first Black ballerina to dance Marie in NYC Ballet’s "Nutcracker". She’s still in training, but her visibility is high, and she’s already challenging norms about hair, makeup, etc. 

*Ashton Edwards 
Corps de ballet at Pacific Northwest Ballet. Nonbinary. They are making waves, not just for technical skill, but for challenging gendered casting in ballet. 

*Erica Lall
Another name from that list. She’s with ABT (American Ballet Theatre).

*Jada Walker
Featured in “4 Up-and-Coming Black Dancers Making History Right Now” by Dance Spirit. Her trajectory is being watched for expansion into bigger roles.

*Joseph Sissens
He’s a Black (Anglo-Caribbean descent) male dancer who was just promoted to principal at The Royal Ballet (London) in 2024. He’s also organizing galas (e.g. Legacy) to uplift dancers of color.

*Chloé Lopes Gomes 
A dancer of mixed heritage who became the first biracial female dancer of Sub-Saharan African descent at Staatsballett Berlin. She’s also publicly accused the institution of discriminatory demands like “whitening makeup.”

*Olivia Boisson 
Corps de ballet at New York City Ballet. She was the first Black dancer to join NYCB in about a decade when she entered in 2013.

*Guillaume Diop 
Though male, his ascent is critical to watch. He was promoted to *étoile* at Paris Opera Ballet (i.e. principal rank) in 2023, first Black person to do so there. 

*Precious Adams 
 Already somewhat public, but still ascending. She’s outspoken about race and ballet’s biases. 

*Michaela DePrince
 She’s more established now, but her later years were about bridging pipeline to prominence. (Note: she passed away in 2024.) 

*Siphesihle November 
Male, but still relevant to inclusion in classical ballet. He joined National Ballet of Canada and became principal around age 22.

*Rachel Hutsell 
One of the names featured in “Meet 10 Up-and-Coming Black Ballerinas” by Dance Spirit. ([mobballet.org][9])

*Nardia Boodoo 
Also part of the Dance Spirit “next generation” list.

*Rebecca Stewart
Likewise in that Dance Spirit “4 Up-and-Coming” list.

*India Bradley
Also in that same Dance Spirit list — she’s with New York City Ballet’s ranks.