Knowing Your Worth (Without the Drama)

A Conversation Years in the Making

Earlier this Spring, I joined June Lawrence for a virtual seminar hosted by Rhee Gold’s Dance Teacher Alliance, where we explored a topic that’s come up again and again over the years: what it really means to know your worth as a dance teacher.

June and I are both studio owners now, but we’ve worn many hats. I’ve taught dance for 27 years, and spent 14 of those years freelance teaching in all kinds of settings: after-school programs, public arts initiatives, private studios, classrooms without mirrors, gym floors, you name it. I’ve navigated different expectations, pay scales, and employment cultures. I know what it feels like to advocate for yourself, and I know what it feels like to completely avoid it.

Our conversation wasn’t about stirring the pot. It was about helping teachers get grounded. Knowing your worth isn’t about walking into a staff meeting with demands. It’s about walking into your work with clarity.

The Quiet Ways We Undervalue Ourselves

We spoke of the quiet, daily ways we either honor our worth, or chip away at it. Things like:

• Taking on unpaid prep or communication time without ever naming
• Avoiding important conversations because we don’t want to seem “difficult”.
• Internalizing the belief that passion should come at the expense of

It happens gradually. We give a little extra, then a little more. We make ourselves smaller to be easier to work with. We wait to be noticed instead of asking to be heard.

We also talked about what it looks like to change that— not through conflict, but through confidence. Teachers don’t have to become adversarial to advocate for themselves. In fact, most studio owners genuinely want to do right by their team; but that only works when both sides are clear and honest about their needs.

Every Studio Is Different—But Fairness Matters Everywhere

Of course, there’s no one-size-fits-all answer. Compensation and work culture vary widely depending on the setting. A neighborhood studio might have a much smaller budget than a pre-professional academy. Some programs can offer high hourly rates, but little flexibility. Others may offer more creative freedom, but fewer hours.

Regardless of the setting, teachers deserve transparency, communication, and a clear sense of what’s expected of them. “Knowing your worth” doesn’t always mean walking away. It might mean adjusting expectations, opening a conversation, or clarifying your priorities. The point is: your time and skill have value, even when the budget is tight.

Some of the reflection questions we offered teachers included:

• Do I have a clear sense of what my role actually includes?
• Do my pay and schedule align with the time I give?
• Have I communicated my needs, or am I waiting for someone to notice?

June and I also shared our responsibility, as leaders, to create fair and transparent systems that support staff, not just rely on them. It’s not always easy, but it’s essential.

Mutual respect is the foundation. Not competition. Not guilt. Not guesswork.

A Field Where Everyone Thrives

If you’re a dance teacher, knowing your worth doesn’t mean burning bridges or delivering ultimatums. It means showing up to the conversation with clarity, confidence, and care. If you’re a studio owner, supporting your team doesn’t require perfection. It requires listening, adjusting when possible, and valuing the people who help you carry the mission forward. At the end of the day, we’re all working toward the same thing: a field where educators can thrive, programs can grow, and students can benefit from teachers who are supported and seen.

Let’s keep making space for honest, human conversations, and remind each other that worth doesn’t have to be proven. It just has to be honored.