We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Chelsea Weidmann. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Chelsea below.
Chelsea, appreciate you joining us today. Can you tell us about a time that your work has been misunderstood? Why do you think it happened and did any interesting insights emerge from the experience?
I have empathy for IRS employees. I don’t need to imagine what it’s like when people hate you based solely on your job title—I’ve experienced it myself. I’ve lost track of the number of times people have said something like, “Ooh, I hated my ballet teacher!” or, “I will never get over what my ballet teacher put me through,” or, “So do you tell children they’re fat or do you just poke their belly?”
My response is always to exhale, look the person in their eyes, and say, “I am so sorry you experienced that. You deserved better.”
I walk around holding two truths at all times. Ballet is my happy place and I love to share it with people. Ballet has been a harmful place for a lot of people.
Ballet was a harmful place for me for a while. Maybe that’s why I can walk around holding those two truths. I have been terribly hurt inside this art system. I had to learn how to reclaim my joy and my belief that I belong in ballet even though plenty of people are happy to list the ways in which I am not good enough.
Let’s just get some things out in the open. I was invited to leave my pre-professional ballet training program as someone without enough potential to continue investing school resources (teaching) in. I did only a tiny smidgen of professional performing, and all of it was short-term. I have never had an annual contract with a ballet company. I was rejected from the University of Utah’s MFA in Ballet twice, and after the second time the then-director suggested that I not bother applying again.
It turns out I did have potential worth investing in. I did earn my MFA after all. And I spent the time I had hoped and planned to be on stage diving deeply into the logic of ballet. My friends with more natural facility for ballet were performing around the world and I had my head in a book (okay, a lot of books) figuring out how physics and ballet history intertwined to get us to where we are today. Because I didn’t have the professional performing experience, I had time to look deeply into the less-examined sides of ballet and find really interesting connections.
I have often been hired to teach at a school and given the less talented group—because the kids who show the most promise get the teachers with the more impressive resumes. You know what those kids and I did together? We figured out where the gaps in their understanding were. There’s a really common saying in ballet teaching that you “teach to the top” and sometimes I agree, but when you base every lesson around what the most naturally gifted kid is ready for, you leave holes in everyone’s training—even the kid who looks like they get it. And the kids who don’t seem to “get it” at first are the ones who start getting ignored. I get those classes because the assumption is that you can’t be a great teacher if you didn’t have a great performing career. But the truth is that, since I didn’t “get it” either and had to find it, I’m actually a very good teacher.
Most of my professional growth has happened in small steps. But there is one watershed moment that changed my direction forever. I had already had years of success teaching kids who had been low-key ignored so I was confident in my ability to figure out the gaps in students’ knowledge. One spring day I was helping a studio director prepare for a performance and I mentioned the disconnect between a student’s technical ability and their artistic/expressive ability and how I wish we had more time to work on that with her. The director just brushed my comment aside with, “People either have it or they don’t. You can’t teach that.”
Now, the director did not intend this but when I heard, “You can’t teach that,” I imagined myself being referred to as “that” in a faculty meeting. I remembered being told I couldn’t achieve anything remarkable in ballet and my instinctive, “Yes I can, and now I will!” kicked on. Suddenly I was determined to figure out how to teach artistic expression. I was instantly acutely aware that every student I worked with had artistic potential that I hadn’t been nurturing because I didn’t know how. I wasn’t (and am not) delusional enough to think that every person I ever teach will have a professional ballet career, but in that moment I clearly saw a huge gap in ballet training. None of the books I’d read or certifications I’d earned ever gave meaningful advice on developing artistic expressive abilities.
About a year later I was accepted into an MFA program in Interdisciplinary Arts. I had had my heart set on a ballet MFA, but this ended up being even better for me. I dived headfirst into defining “artistry,” breaking it down into separate elements so that teaching it wouldn’t be overwhelming, looking at how child development would affect teaching each element, choosing what parts of artistry are very interesting but I just didn’t have time to learn enough before I needed to defend my thesis and finish the program so I had to leave them out . . . it was a lot.
Of course I didn’t finish the program with some universally true definition of Artistry. I don’t think that will ever happen. But I did finish with nine elements of artistry that intertwine and build on each other to create powerful connections between performers and their audience. My thesis became the first comprehensive framework for teaching artistry in ballet. I expanded my thesis into a book to help fellow teachers (and then limited myself to just four elements because no one wants to read a book that long) and published Artistry Inside Ballet Technique, volume 1 in 2024. I’ve had the incredible experience of hearing from teachers who have embraced these methods and watched their students transform. Every time a teacher uses my methods to help a student discover their artistic voice—especially a student who might have been overlooked in traditional settings—it’s encouragement to keep teaching “that.”
But the misunderstandings persist. Some traditionalists insist that teaching or coaching artistry somehow diminishes its magic. Others dismiss my work because I lack the performer pedigree they respect. What they miss is that its my struggles to access these elements have made me uniquely qualified to decode them for others.
I’m learning to make peace with the fact that I may never fully fit into the ballet establishment. The mischaracterizations of my work and of ballet teachers in general have taught me something valuable: the most meaningful innovation often comes from the unwilling outsiders, from those who wanted so badly to be part of something that they just never stopped looking for a way in. Yes, I had to find alternative paths. Along the way I found so many dancers who deserve better—and now I can help give them that.
Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.
I’m a Ballet Education Specialist and Ballet Artistry Coach who found my way into this niche through what initially felt like a series of professional disappointments. My journey began with traditional ballet training, but pivoted when I was invited to leave my pre-professional program. Rather than abandoning ballet, I became obsessed with understanding it at a deeper level. I earned my MFA in Interdisciplinary Arts (after being rejected twice from a ballet-specific program), which gave me the freedom to explore ballet pedagogy from completely new angles.
Through Geeky Ballerina, I provide systematic approaches to ballet education with a special focus on teaching artistry – something that has been traditionally considered unteachable. My core products include:
-A comprehensive ballet curriculum built on research-based progression
-“Artistry Inside Ballet Technique, volume 1” – the first published work to systematically break down artistry components
-Specialized lesson plans for teachers looking to enhance their students’ expressive abilities
What sets my approach apart is the methodical breakdown of both technical and artistic elements. Ballet has historically been taught through approaches that reward students who learn in similar ways to the teacher, but leaves gaps for others. My systems provide clear pathways for all students to develop technically and artistically, regardless of their natural facility while still leaving plenty of space for teachers to share their own talents and wisdom in each class.
What I want potential clients to know is that I firmly believe ballet can and should be both excellent and accessible. You don’t have to choose between high standards and inclusivity. My own journey as someone who had to work for every bit of progress gives me unique insight into supporting dancers who might otherwise be overlooked.
At its heart, Geeky Ballerina exists to transform ballet education by replacing the false belief that you can be excellent or you can be inclusive. The best teaching and the best art are both excellent AND inclusive.
What do you think is the goal or mission that drives your creative journey?
The mission driving my work is creating dual success in ballet education—teachers who feel capable and fulfilled alongside students who feel valued and empowered. Many dedicated teachers work incredibly hard but feel uncertain about their effectiveness. I’m passionate about transforming that uncertainty into confidence by providing systematic tools that enhance their natural abilities.
I’m driven to replace teaching approaches based on tradition alone with systems that build on tradition but that also integrate research, clear progression, and compassionate pedagogy. When teachers have these frameworks that honor ballet’s heritage while expanding its accessibility, they teach with more joy and assurance. This naturally creates learning environments where students thrive technically and artistically.
Every resource I develop, from my curriculum to my book on teaching artistry, is designed with this dual success in mind—because when teachers succeed, students succeed.
Are there any resources you wish you knew about earlier in your creative journey?
I wish I had understood earlier that the traditional power dynamic in teacher-student relationships actually works in reverse from what I had assumed. In ballet especially, there’s this persistent myth that teachers must establish authority first and that respect flows upward. What I’ve learned through years of experience is that teachers need to give respect to students before students give respect to them. When teachers demonstrate genuine respect for students first, it creates a foundation of trust that transforms the entire learning experience.
I also wish someone had told me that making mistakes as a teacher isn’t just okay—it’s an essential part of growth. For too long, I felt I needed to project perfect knowledge (which is impossible anyway). I wish I’d known earlier how powerful it can be to tell students, “I’ve learned something new, and this is why and what we’re changing in our approach.” Some of my best teaching breakthroughs came after acknowledging that a method wasn’t working and collaboratively finding a better way.
Similarly, I wish I’d understood the tremendous value in saying, “I didn’t handle that stressful situation well, and I’m sorry.” In ballet’s traditional hierarchical teaching model, admitting mistakes can feel like surrendering authority. But, so far, apologizing for my mistakes hasn’t had any negative blowback. And even if it had, I’d still apologize when I was wrong because that willingness is a key part of respecting your students.
If I could send a resource back in time to my younger teaching self, it would be permission to be human in the classroom. The most effective teaching doesn’t come from projecting perfection but from modeling how to learn, adapt, and keep trying.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.geekyballerina.com
- Instagram: @geekyballerina
- Facebook: Geeky Ballerina
- Youtube: https://youtube.com/@geekyballerina5836?si=1-awQRsaxwEr98V6
Image Credits
white tutu image credit Beau Pearson