Who’s Really Sexualizing Dance Culture?
By Riley Qiu ‘28
“Why are they always twerking in front of kids? Embarrassing.”
“They’re misrepresenting us,” some people in the audience laughed.
One of them jeered, “Look at their asses!”
Another looked at the Rio dancers and sneered, “Hey, I dare you to go up there and touch her ass.”
“Why are they sexualizing dance culture?”
“Sluts.”
It was not strangers making these comments. These remarks came from members of our own community.
Two weeks ago, I had just finished the dance performance with Ritmo, Milton’s Afro-Caribbean dance group, at the Hispanic and Latinx Heritage Assembly. It was my first performance with this group—a moment I had looked forward to for weeks, if not months, after countless hours of rehearsal. The crowd had dispersed, and I was with my friends. It was at that moment when I realized that there were noises mixed in with the applause.
Vulgar words, demeaning phrases, and disdainful comments: each of them felt like a new scar on the culture we were celebrating.
This backlash is not merely directed towards this single performance: it is one event in a tragically long history of discrimination against female dancers and Afro-Caribbean art. From a young age, people are taught to view Afro-Caribbean-inspired dance through a lens of shame and sexualization, stripping these dances of their artistry. What the owners of these hateful voices in the audience failed to see was a passion for dance, and, moreover, a passion to freely move our bodies and voice our emotions through a unique art form.
As a participant in the Winter Dance Concert last year, I have noticed nothing but passion for dance among the choreographers and participants. Several dancers at Milton carefully curated Afro-Caribbean-inspired dances that not only represented their love for their culture but also served as a voice of activism.
Chloe Yeo ‘26, a current co-head of Ritmo, started her journey in dance when she came to Milton and tried out for Ritmo. The reason behind Yeo’s fervent passion for dance, as she remarks, is that “one of the beautiful things about dance is…it's so exposing.” To the public, dance might seem to be a rigid art form, as the choreography is often uniform for performances. However, as Yeo expressed, “every single time [she’s] on stage…it truly feels like its own experience.” Not only does dance feel “natural” and “organic” in her mind, Yeo views dance as “empowering,” and, though she has other passions, she claims that “dance is a little bit different as a creative form.”
Derived from traditional worship dances from Brazil, Cuba and Haiti, and popularized in the US by African diasporas in Southern urban regions such as New Orleans, Miami and Atlanta, “twerking” is a common move in Ritmo choreographies. This addictive and dynamic dance thrived in the African-American music cultures of blues, jazz, and rap. Although often stereotyped as indecent, this style of dance’s ancestral roots are grounded in traditional worship, and enables dancers to feel independent, free, and liberated.
“It’s so, so hurtful” that audiences constantly sexualize the move, expressed Yeo. The reason why Yeo, as a choreographer, implements dance moves like twerking is because they “make [Ritmo] feel empowered, not because they have any linkages to sexual positions, or anything pertaining to...something with a man.” Another dancer in Ritmo, Tesani Teages ‘26, stated that Ritmo has struggled against sexualization and hate “since it was created.” As far as Teages remembers, Ritmo has made countless efforts to conform to public expectations: Ritmo has added more dance types, removed certain dance moves, and adjusted the style, yet the voices still don’t seem to die down. Teages claimed that “the whole sexualizing part takes...the art of Ritmo away.” Moreover, although Ritmo has made oversights in using backing tracks with suggestive lyrics, the group has historically made a substantial effort to conform to audience expectations of decency, yet most still fail to consider the art of it, only caring to criticize.
It is tragic how the objectification and demeaning of female dancers, along with their art, are so normalized today. I am in awe at how people view misogyny as entertainment, disguise prejudice as humor, and trivialize the silencing of culture as a quest for “decency.” The next time you see a dance performance, I urge you to look beyond the movements and explore what heritage these dances keep alive. Support the expression of culture, challenge disrespect, and celebrate art without objectifying its practitioners. At its core, dance is not an invitation for judgement; it is a statement of pride, freedom, and resilience.