Office Hours With Endalyn T. Outlaw

When Endalyn T. Outlaw joined Dance Theatre of Harlem in 1984, she quickly learned that founding director Arthur Mitchell expected her to be more than just a performer. He charged the dancers with being cultural stewards beyond the stage, broadening their responsibilities and Outlaw’s sense of purpose. “He gave us many opportunities to teach, speak, present, [lead] lecture-demonstrations,” Outlaw recalls. “We had to be able to verbally articulate why we did what we did, why the art form matters, and then demystify it for audiences and make them fall in love and see dance as something that was accessible to them.”

Outlaw would go on to work with other luminaries such as Alonzo King and Frederic Franklin and perform in the Broadway productions of The Lion King, Aida, and Carousel. But she credits those early experiences under the guidance of Mitchell with setting her on a path to a career in dance education, one that has included roles at The Ailey School, New York University, the University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign, and as director of Dance Theatre of Harlem School. 

Now dean of the School of Dance at the University of North Carolina School of the Arts, Outlaw spoke with Dance Teacher about challenging outdated teaching mindsets, the role of love in the classroom, and the delicate balancing act of innovating for the future while honoring tradition.

Was there a specific moment when you knew you wanted to be a teacher?

Once I got to a point as a performer where I was in every ballet every night, I wanted a warm-up that felt like it was warming me up and not fatiguing me. Having ownership and being able to customize a class for myself at times was really the spark that made me think, oh, I enjoy this. And if I’m finding things that are particularly effective for me, I would like to see if there’s that ability in me to do that for others.

How have your experiences with DTH informed your approach to teaching?

Growing up, the [training] environment wasn’t always a welcoming place for me. I’m muscular, and I have sinew. But at DTH, there were many bodies—those that would seem very traditional and those that were less so, but all being welcome to train and do the art form in the way that the art form was designed. Having that space be open for me was really everything. I welcome students into a class where we’re going to train from the codification of what the art form is while trying to remove some of the biases that maybe stop you from feeling like you belong or can do it at a high level.

Do you think that openness and inclusivity is part of what makes a dance class successful? 

That is certainly part of it. A successful dance class also allows for people to feel comfortable enough to take risks—to take yourself right to the very edge of what you think your abilities are and then potentially beyond, and to have the space to be able to do that. That is not to say that there is no expectation, but there’s also a balance of encouragement in going forward, in seeing beyond what students are doing in that moment to what you want them to at least be bold enough to try to do. A good dance class teaches you the fundamentals, gives you all of the guidelines, the rudiments and the things that are so beautiful about an art form, but also allows you to blow it up and pour yourself into it. 

Is there a particular teaching philosophy that defines your style?

I remember there being a period of time where the conversation was, “Leave who you are at the door.” But I actually encourage students to bring who they are into the space. Don’t let it be a block or a limit or a distraction. Let it be an enhancement. Because once I realized that my greatest asset was my unique, individual approach to how something was done, I felt that this is something that we should encourage students to do. 

I also believe that we can work really hard and still have joy. I understand where tough love has been very successful in the past, but I think just love can also be really successful. I don’t think we should sugarcoat, but I think there’s a way for us to do it that is nurturing and encouraging, as opposed to something that could potentially tear someone down. 

Do you have a role model in the dance education field?

Bill Griffith was a teacher for DTH, and he was one who didn’t sugarcoat things, but it never felt like those comments were designed to make you feel less-than—it was just designed to help you maximize what you were. He understood the vocabulary, the technique, and the process, and that there were multiple ways to get at advancement and improvement. It wasn’t a one-size-fits-all approach to giving corrections.

Lupe Serrano, a [former] ballerina with [American Ballet Theatre], was one of my all-time favorites. She could do what any man could in dance. She was a jumper and a turner, and those were my strengths as well. And when I was in her class, she would have me dance with the men, which allowed me to channel that side of me. It’s great for us to have students work on the things that they can improve, but I think it’s also great for us to celebrate their strengths and never try to make them be something they are not.

How do you stay inspired as a teacher?

By staying true to the art form in terms of those things that are integral to the discipline while finding ways to be innovative. Find ways to insert your voice into the teaching pedagogy. It may be a Vaganova base, but there is space to play with how that Vaganova base is constructed and then presented to students.

What is the biggest challenge you’ve experienced working with today’s generation? 

Navigating what do you keep, what do you value about tradition, and what do you allow to be moved out of the way. I would say that is maybe less of a challenge and more of an opportunity, but it can feel like a challenge when you are rewiring, for example, how you correct. I was at one point a very physical teacher who did place students in positions. That is something now that may or may not be okay with all students in the room. That’s a bit of a rewiring—and I think navigating that space is certainly an opportunity for all of us to figure out how we do that and still help the students. 

Do you have a message for fellow dance educators who are working to inspire and empower the next generation?

It’s so important for us to remember that we are shaping lives. We’re shaping artists and students, but they’re humans, as well. And so much of how we interact with them in the classroom carries into the world with them.