Dancers from Dance Moms perform on stage
Maddie Ziegler and other dancers perform on 'Dance Moms.'

Self-expression. Personal enjoyment. Exercise. Dance can be about so many things. But these days, much of the dance world seems focused on one thing: competition. Decades before Dance Moms and other popular TV dance shows, youth dance competitions gave local studios—whether teaching ballet, tap, contemporary or jazz—a way to showcase and celebrate their students’ talents. But how did these contests, now renowned for their high-pressure routines and cutthroat rivalries, come to dominate the world of youth dance?

Since a small handful of dance competitions emerged in the late 1970s, the number of regional and national youth competitions has ballooned into the hundreds. They have evolved from simple affairs held at local 4-H halls and school auditoriums to glitzy professionalized events. They now feature complex sound and lighting systems, fancy costumes and makeup, and complex choreography—all presided over by panels of expert judges.

Each year, tens of thousands of young dancers across America are lured into the circuit in pursuit of the golden career ticket: an instant fan base and top industry connections. Most train with intense focus and rigor. “They’re like gladiators,” Jared Grimes, a prominent tap dancer and competition judge, told The New York Times in 2017. “The dominating, the mind games, the winning. It’s all strategic.”

It’s easy to understand why. Competition alums can be found everywhere––from elite college programs to renowned dance companies to glitzy pop-music gigs like music videos and concert tours. New York City Ballet principal dancer Tiler Peck launched her career on the competition stage. So did Beyoncé and Britney Spears. For young girls raised in a culture that prizes viral TikTok, Instagram and YouTube fame, dance competitions offer an enticing platform.

Competition Has Long Pushed Dance Forward

Throughout human history, dance has been a powerful way to celebrate culture and connect communities, from court balls to sock hops, square dances and “Cupid Shuffle” line dances. Such social gatherings have always involved some level of public performance, providing a natural space to strut one’s stuff—and check one another out.

Ballroom dance formally became a contested sport in the early 20th century, when French entrepreneur Camille de Rhynal held the first social dance competitions in converted ballrooms. In 1907, the first Tango competition took place in Nice, France. London, Paris and Berlin followed, hosting international ballroom competitions that continue today. By the 1920s, several European nations became prominent in the gradual emergence of dance as an organized sport.

[The Dance Moms Reunion premieres May 1 at 8/7c; stream the next day in the Lifetime app.]

In the second half of the 20th century, some of the most popular social dances reflected the music industry’s new focus on teens. In rock ‘n’ roll, Chubby Checker’s Twist became a worldwide craze—and popular competition fodder—after he performed the dance while singing its namesake song on The Dick Clark Show in 1960. A decade and a half later, at the height of disco fever, the Hustle emerged from New York City’s Latino club and party scene to become a dance sensation. It vaulted into the pop-culture stratosphere after being featured in the 1977 smash-hit dance competition movie Saturday Night Fever.

Dance historian Karen Schupp, a former competitive dancer and now associate professor of dance at Arizona State University, believes competition has long been baked into dance, especially in many African-rooted styles. Since Vaudeville days, for example, tap dancers have “traded eights,” or taken turns improvising in short, eight-bar phrases. “A big part of it was this back and forth, like trying to one up the person you're dancing with,” says Schupp. “It’s not competition, but more like a game, a sense of play. That sort of back-and-forth and one-upping helped the dance form develop.”

Other dance styles such as jazz and breaking have also relied on this friendly sense of competition to push the art form forward, whether on stage or in social settings. The competition industry has accentuated the one-upmanship factor, giving dancers formal spaces to challenge themselves and each other—and gain new levels of legitimacy. Breaking, for one, has evolved from an art form performed with cardboard on street corners to a formally recognized Olympic sport. “It changes everything,” veteran breaker Alien Ness told The New York Times. “Now it’s an Olympic gold medal. Now it’s a box of Wheaties. Now it’s your own Nike shoe. It’s everything that comes with that.”

TV—and TikTok—Fueled Competition

It was only within the last two decades that several popular reality TV shows such as Dancing with the Stars, World of Dance, So You Think You Can Dance and Dance Moms vaulted competition dance into mainstream American pop culture. Attracting millions of viewers, they have cultivated a more sustained dance boom.

Social media platforms like Instagram, YouTube and TikTok have amplified that boom. “The coming together of the televised dance shows and social media has created this American Dream for dancers,” says Heather Harrington, adjunct professor of modern dance and theory at Kean University and Drew University. These days, students “all have access to [smartphones] and the algorithms really push them towards viewing these types of content.”

Harrington believes the competition industry has fundamentally transformed dance education, shifting the learning and performing ethos from collaboration to rivalry. “In 2012, for example, I had no students who were in a competition dance model. But today, in a class of like 17 students, only two are not in that model,” she says. “It just goes to show you where most young people are learning dance.”

Beyond the Bright Lights

Even as the competition dance world continues to expand and attract more participants—U.S. dance studios comprised a $4.4 billion industry in 2023—the bar for entry can be prohibitively high. Costumes, training and entry fees can cost thousands of dollars monthly for parents of seriously involved children, making it difficult for aspiring dancers without means to participate.

Can a less competitive, less commercial dance world become a reality in the future? “I don't know what's going to happen next,” says Schupp, “because the goal I have in my heart is for every child to have access to dance without needing to pay for it.” In the meantime, thousands of young dancers continue to compete toward their dreams.

Reanne Rodrigues is an arts and culture writer based in New York City. She loves telling impactful stories about artists and the value they bring to the world. Reach out to her on www.reannewrites.com.