Why We Need to Talk to Dancers About Disappointment

Disappointment is part of being a dancer—but we don’t talk about it enough. Not in a way that forms character. Not in a way that helps young dancers grow.

We talk plenty about growth mindset, mental health, and empowerment. But those words can become hollow when we refuse to let students sit with a hard truth: you won’t always get the part. You won’t always get it right. And that’s not a failure—it’s formation.

In many studios, we overcorrect for past harm. We try to soften the edges of the training model that was once too harsh, too rigid, too unforgiving. But in that shift, we’ve sometimes landed in a new danger zone: we tiptoe around disappointment because we’re afraid of how it will be received.

We delay casting decisions. We preface every correction with emotional disclaimers. We create layers of ensemble groups to avoid placing anyone at the “bottom.” We let our discomfort dictate our communication, and we call it kindness. But kindness without clarity doesn’t build strength—it builds confusion.

Here’s the truth: a rejection-proof environment doesn’t raise artists. It raises entitlement.

I’ve directed hundreds of dancers over the past two decades—children, teens, pre-professionals, and professionals. I’ve watched talented students unravel not because they lacked technique, but because they had never learned how to metabolize disappointment. They weren’t brats. They were simply unprepared.

They had never failed publicly.
Never been told, “You didn’t get the role.”
Never had to ask themselves, “What now?”

And because of that, they didn’t know how to respond when it finally happened.

We can do better. We must do better.

Let’s build studios where disappointment isn’t feared—it’s framed. Where students learn to bounce back—not because they’re told everything is fine, but because we’ve taught them how to process challenge with truth and grace.

What Helps: Clarity. Consistency. Conversation.

1. Say the truth early and often.

If a level or role requires specific technical or behavioral standards, say so clearly and repeatedly. Don’t wait for tears in the dressing room to explain the rubric. Communicate with specificity—not just in emails, but in person.

2. Teach students to separate identity from outcome.

Getting passed over for a role doesn’t mean they’re unworthy. It means they’re growing. That distinction has to be reinforced constantly—especially in students who tie their self-worth to achievement.

3. Invite parents into the process.

Parents aren’t the enemy—they’re our allies when we communicate well. Hold a pre-season orientation. Share how casting works. Walk them through how you help dancers grow through disappointment rather than protecting them from it. Most parents will rise to meet you if they understand your “why.”

4. Model emotional maturity.

If directors avoid hard conversations, bristle at feedback, or gossip about student reactions, we send a clear signal that emotions are dangerous. Instead, normalize disappointment as part of growth. Show how to sit with it and keep working.

Disappointment Isn’t the Enemy—Avoidance Is

Resilience grows in spaces where people learn that failing doesn’t mean falling apart. Where young dancers hear “no” and learn to ask, “What do I need to work on?”

If we want strong dancers, we need strong humans.
And strong humans aren’t born—they’re built.

One hard moment at a time.
One honest conversation at a time.
One quiet “try again” at a time.