Misty Copeland Redefined Ballet’s Boundaries. What Comes After Her Exit?
After 25 groundbreaking years, the American Ballet Theatre’s first Black principal ballerina takes her final bow on October 22.
October 22 marked a milestone in dance history: Misty Copeland, one of the most influential ballerinas of her generation, performed for the last time as a member of American Ballet Theatre. Her farewell appearance at ABT’s Fall Gala isn’t just a conclusion—it’s also a comeback, closing a five-year break from the stage that began before her official retirement.
Copeland’s exit arrives exactly a decade after she shattered one of ballet’s oldest barriers. In 2015, she became the first Black woman to be named a principal dancer in ABT’s 75-year history, a landmark moment hailed as the dawn of a more inclusive era in one of the world’s most tradition-bound art forms. Her promotion was widely celebrated as a sign that ballet—long synonymous with Eurocentric beauty ideals—might finally be evolving.
Yet, ten years later, there still hasn’t been another Black woman principal at ABT. As the 43-year-old Copeland steps away from the stage, she leaves behind both an extraordinary legacy and a pressing question: what happens next?
Theresa Ruth Howard, a former member of Dance Theatre of Harlem and founder of Memoirs of Blacks in Ballet, a digital archive documenting the stories of Black ballet artists, believes that Copeland’s rise cannot be separated from the wider cultural moment that propelled her forward.
“To really understand Misty’s significance, you have to place her within the social and political context of what was happening to and with Black Americans 10 or 15 years ago,” Howard said. “Within ballet, she became a spark—someone who ignited conversations that had been avoided for generations.”
Copeland’s ascent unfolded during a pivotal cultural shift. Her breakout role as The Firebird in 2012 coincided with the rise of the Black Lives Matter movement, which demanded national reflection on race and representation. At the time, the dance world was marked by a striking lack of visibility for Black performers. Even Dance Theatre of Harlem, a historic company devoted to Black dancers, had only recently ended an eight-year hiatus. Amid this scarcity, Copeland’s journey—rooted in perseverance, talent, and public visibility—became a beacon of possibility.
She also transcended ballet’s boundaries, becoming a bona fide pop culture figure. Copeland appeared in high-profile advertisements, major magazine features, and even shared the stage with Prince—achievements that reached far beyond the traditional ballet audience, long before her official promotion to principal dancer.
Unlike many of her predecessors, Copeland was vocal about her ambition to break ABT’s color line. She spoke candidly about it in interviews and in her best-selling memoir, Life in Motion: An Unlikely Ballerina. Her openness and visibility challenged deeply held beliefs about what a ballerina should look like. Copeland’s presence—a Black woman with a compact, powerful, and curvaceous physique—defied the art form’s rigid aesthetic standards that had long favored tall, slender, white dancers.
Still, the barriers that once made her an anomaly persist. Ballet continues to wrestle with exclusionary norms and narrow ideas of beauty. The cost of training, pointe shoes, and elite instruction remains prohibitively high for many families, and the lack of diversity in leadership and casting perpetuates a cycle of underrepresentation.
Copeland has never shied away from discussing these systemic inequities. In Life in Motion, she recalled being “a little brown-skinned girl in a sea of whiteness,” describing how isolation affected her confidence. In a recent interview with The New York Times, she revisited those early years at ABT, when she was often typecast as “the earthy character” and steered toward contemporary pieces instead of classical roles.
Over time, Copeland used her growing platform to advocate for inclusion within the ballet world. She’s spoken publicly about painting her pointe shoes to match her skin tone—a practice that sparked widespread discussions about racial inclusivity in ballet attire. Her social media presence has also become a rallying point for young dancers of color seeking representation.
Her achievements helped open a dialogue about ballet’s future and the kind of reckoning it must continue to pursue. According to Howard, the last decade has indeed brought progress, though not without resistance.
“We’re now able to have deeper, more informed conversations about racism, segregation, and the historical exclusion that shaped ballet,” Howard said. “The lack of Black dancers isn’t random—it’s structural. But we’ve reached a level of awareness that can’t be undone.”
Copeland’s retirement comes at a complicated moment for the arts. Across the United States, diversity, equity, and inclusion efforts face political backlash. Public arts funding is dwindling, and many cultural institutions that once made bold commitments to representation are quietly scaling back. Ballet, too, finds itself at a crossroads. Despite undeniable strides since Copeland’s rise, the art form’s future inclusivity remains uncertain. With her departure, ABT once again has no Black woman in a principal or soloist position.
“Globally, we’re seeing more dancers of color, new hairstyles, and expressions of individuality that celebrate who these artists are,” Howard noted. “That’s progress. But without the financial commitment and institutional will to sustain it, we’ll see how much of it endures.”
Even as Copeland closes her performing chapter, she’s channeling her energy into reshaping ballet’s next generation. Her own introduction to the art form came through an afterschool program at the Boys and Girls Club—a lifeline for a child whose family couldn’t afford traditional training. Inspired by that experience, she founded the Misty Copeland Foundation in 2021 to ensure similar opportunities for children who might not otherwise access ballet. Its flagship program, BE BOLD, offers afterschool dance classes and promotes inclusive teaching methods.
“Black and brown communities have always had an interest in ballet,” Copeland told The New York Times. “They just need to see themselves reflected in it. They need to know it’s a world that welcomes them.”
Her story—of breaking barriers, claiming visibility, and redefining what grace looks like—has forever altered ballet’s image. But as Misty Copeland takes her final curtain call, the question remains whether the world she changed will keep dancing forward or slip back into its old rhythms.







