The Problem Isn't the Dancers - It's the System: IADMS 2026 Takeaways for a Healthier Dance Culture

Last week, the International Association for Dance Medicine & Science (IADMS) held its annual conference in Melbourne, Australia. This is one of my favorite conferences because of the diversity of experts and topics covered related to dance, from dance medicine and biomechanics to dance programs for specific populations and how to best advocate for dancers. Although I attended virtually, there were plenty of research presentations for me to nerd out on as a physical therapist, but some of the most impactful moments were panel discussions and presentations about the biggest challenges dancers encounter today—many of which are less about individual dancers and more about the structures and systems of the dance world.

Experts discussed how change can start to happen little by little. Here are a few takeaways I hope you find insightful—especially if you’re a dance instructor, studio leader, dancer, or parent.

“We normalize things that aren’t normal.”

This line hit because it explains something I see all the time: in intense training environments, dancers don’t just “choose” to cope—they feel that they have to adapt to what’s expected or they’ll lose opportunities.

Over time, certain patterns can start to feel standard, even when they’re not supportive of health or performance:

Training load ramping up too quickly after breaks
Prolonged high training loads in less than ideal environments without adequate rest between rehearsals or performances
Pain and fatigue being treated as proof of commitment
Food and fueling becoming “moralized” (good/bad, earned/deserved) instead of treated as basic performance support
Constant comparison (mirrors, casting, social media, peer culture) becoming background noise that creeps into how dancers view themselves
Appearance-based feedback being treated as normal communication, which leads to unhealthy views of their own bodies

Here’s the important part: none of these patterns appear out of nowhere. They’re shaped - directly or indirectly - by what leadership and teaching teams build into the environment: what gets praised, what gets ignored, what gets modeled, and what gets protected (or not protected). When recovery time isn’t planned for, when breaks aren’t normalized, when a dancer is shamed for eating a snack in rehearsal, when feedback trends toward commenting on a dancer’s body rather than their execution of steps or skills, or when the “standard” is to push through at all costs, dancers learn the culture quickly.

The tricky part is that when these things are normalized, dancers often internalize the impact as a personal problem or failure:

“I’m weak.”
“I’m behind.”
‘I’m not the body type they want.”
“I’m not disciplined enough.”
“Everyone else can handle it but me.”
“I don’t deserve a break or a snack.”

If you look at a professional dancer’s work environment (and these concepts can be applied to a dance school as well), hazards in dance are often structural rather than incidental. In other words, the problem isn’t that dancers aren’t resilient enough—it’s that the environment can be set up in a way that repeatedly asks the body and mind to do more than is sustainable. Based on a large survey, one presenter reported that the top three main pressures that professional dancers felt were related to 1) unrealistic expectations, 2) body weight and shape, and 3) job insecurity and finances.

The hopeful part is this: if the structure contributes to these problems, then the structure can also be part of the solution.

Language matters (more than we think)

The keynote speaker at the conference, Dr. Beth Shelton, a psychologist, emphasized something I completely agree with: the words used in dance spaces don’t just communicate corrections—they shape how dancers relate to their bodies and can influence their self-efficacy and self-esteem for the rest of their lives. Dr. Shelton specializes in eating disorders and is also a dancer and choreographer herself.

A key takeaway was to reduce appearance-based commentary, including comments that are intended as compliments. Even “positive” appearance comments can reinforce the idea that a dancer’s body is always being evaluated and that there is a preferred appearance that all dancers need to strive for.

A practical shift is to prioritize skill-based and function-based feedback:

What the dancer is doing (timing, coordination, alignment, force absorption)
What they should feel (breath, pressure through the foot, effort level, support through one joint but softness in another)
What to change in how they are executing the skill (one clear cue at a time)

Why it matters: appearance-based language tends to pull dancers into an “outside view” of their body (how it looks), while function and skill-based language supports an “inside view” (how it feels and performs). That shift can reduce shame, improve body trust, and often improves learning too.

Here are a few cue swaps that keep high standards without making bodies the topic:

Instead of…	Try…
“That jump was heavy.”	“Let’s focus on landing mechanics: roll through the foot and make the plie continuous to help you rebound more.”
“Suck in / hold your stomach.”	“Grow tall through the crown of your head. Feel your ribs stack over your pelvis, and keep your breath moving so you’re not gripping or holding tension.”
“Your arms look messy.”	“Let’s clean up the pathway: initiate from the back, keep the elbows buoyant, and match the timing of the port de bras to your breath.”
“Don’t be lazy.”	“Let’s get specific: commit to the timing, complete the movement all the way through the fingertips/toes.”
“That looked sloppy.”	“Let’s pick one technical priority for this next combo/run: timing, preciseness of the feet, or clarity of the arms/head. And build one layer at a time.”

This isn’t about walking on eggshells or lowering expectations. It’s about being more precise and communicating clearly with how the dancers can improve their skills. This form of feedback takes practice too! Dancer teachers in the US don’t need any kind of certification to teach dance, but I think mastering the skill of providing function/skill-based feedback is critical. The more we coach what’s trainable (skill, coordination, strength, recovery), the less dancers learn to equate their worth with appearance.

Leadership sets the tone (and the policies)

Another theme that came through clearly: if it’s not brought up, it gets dismissed and is ignored as an issue.

In discussions around RED-D (Relative Energy Deficiency in Dance) prevention and dancer wellbeing, leaders shared how prevention becomes real when it’s built into the day-to-day culture—not treated as a special topic that only comes up when there’s a crisis. If an instructor is concerned about a dancer’s health and gets brushed off by the dancer and told “I’m fine.” Don’t leave it at that. Continue to lovingly check-in and if this is a student, get family involved.

A few leadership-level actions and goals that stood out:

Normalize rest and recovery as part of training (not as a reward), build it into the schedule and communicate with dancers about it - sometimes dancers need permission to rest so they aren’t rehearsing extra during their "recovery" time. Also, if a group of dancers is exhausted, what’s the point in doing another run through? That simply puts them at higher risk of injury and can be taken as punishment for being tired.
Protect basic needs as non-negotiable: snack breaks, lunch breaks, hydration, and adequate time between rehearsals when possible
Create a culture where dancers can speak up early—and get a supportive, skilled response, not one that shames them for trying to communicate a basic need. Even better if you have connections with dance medicine professionals that you can refer them to (mental health, sports medicine doctor, physical therapist, nutritionist, etc)
Reduce appearance-based commentary and comparisons - not just from teachers and directors, but also the costume committee and dancers themselves. Everyone needs to be on board in order to build a healthier culture in the studio.

For dancers: you’re not “the problem”

If you’re a dancer reading this and you’ve ever felt like you’re “not tough enough,” “not disciplined enough,” or “not built for this,” I want you to hear this clearly:

That story is likely a reflection of the environment—not your worth.

A dancer can do everything “right” and still struggle in a system that normalizes chronic stress, comparison, under-fueling, and training loads that outpace recovery.

A few reminders that are also performance-relevant:

Fueling is part of training. Your brain and body need enough energy to learn, adapt, and recover.
Rest isn’t laziness—it’s tissue repair and nervous system recovery. And yes, you need actual rest days, not days where you go to the studio on your own and keep practicing.
Pain is information. Ignoring it doesn’t make you stronger; it often just delays progress.

For parents: advocate for and support your dancer

Parents can be a huge protective factor. Many dancers internalize structural pressure as personal failure, and supportive language can make a real difference. Parents can also be strong advocates for their dancers and spark change when leadership isn’t offering the supportive environment needed for dancers to succeed. Remind your dancer to fuel, rest, listen to their bodies, and help them speak up when it’s needed.

In Conclusion...

Honestly, I’ve only gotten through about half of the recorded presentations from the IADMS conference and am looking forward to nerding out on more dance science presentations. However, thus far, the conversations around the psychosocial hazards of the current state of the dance world - things like chronic pressure, comparison, appearance-based evaluation, and “push through it” norms - have real health consequences. These aren’t just “part of dance.” They affect injury risk, fueling, recovery, mental health, and how dancers relate to their bodies for years to come.

If we want dancers to actually thrive, the systems around them have to evolve and the culture has to change. Culture change starts with what we normalize. Small consistent shifts in language, expectations, and leadership priorities repeated consistently can change outcomes. And the time to start doing that is now.