For eight incredible years, my life revolved around my Dance Studio. This past spring marked a significant transition as I sold the business, a decision that has led me to reflect deeply on my journey. Today, I want to share the story of my dance studio ownership, the process of selling it, and the exciting shift into my new venture, Resourceful Dance. And yes, be warned, this might be a bit of a long read – conciseness isn’t always my forte!
Dance studio ownership was never a childhood aspiration. Growing up, my world was dance. I was immersed in the joy of movement, the discipline of practice, and the thrill of performance. The idea of stepping away from my personal dance dreams to nurture the aspirations of others simply wasn’t on my radar. Even becoming a professional dancer wasn’t a meticulously planned path; it was a natural progression fueled by my passion. Through college and beyond, dance remained my constant. I thrived in the structured environment of collegiate dance, where dedication directly translated into visible results. Bring on the daily technique classes and demanding rehearsals! I loved it.
Entering the professional dance world after college presented a stark contrast. Moving to NYC, I had a plan, but my vision lacked the necessary sharpness. Audition after audition – Broadway, modern, companies big and small, commercial projects – ended in rejection. Despite a scholarship with a modern company and work-study at Steps, discouragement crept in. It was a harsh awakening to the fact that talent and hard work aren’t always enough; the dance world, like life, isn’t always fair.
Despite the challenges and deviations from my envisioned path, my time in New York was invaluable. Navigating the demanding environment of NYC instilled in me a resilient spirit and the understanding that adaptability is key. The city, brimming with inspiring individuals, taught me the importance of taking risks. More importantly, I realized that while my love for dance remained unwavering, the cutthroat nature of the professional dance industry wasn’t my passion. The constant evaluation of self-worth based on class performance took its toll. This experience, however, was formative, preparing me for the unpredictable world of entrepreneurship.
After two years in the whirlwind of NYC, I returned to my roots in Chicago. Surrounded by family and a strong network of friends, dancing felt easier here. Living at home allowed me to audition and build a foundation for financial stability. Teaching became my natural path, a common route for dancers in Chicago. Days were for personal dance pursuits, evenings for commuting to suburban studios to teach. For two years, I balanced teaching at multiple studios with my own dance career, performing with several mid-sized companies.
Then came a life-altering conversation after a teaching session. The studio owner I worked for confided in me that she was considering selling her business. She didn’t imagine I’d be interested, but wondered if I knew of any studios looking to expand. I sensed a deeper message – a hint that closure was a possibility if a sale didn’t materialize. It was a ‘heads-up’ to find alternative employment. I gleaned that she was eager to exit and understood her bottom-line price, information likely shared only because she didn’t perceive me as a potential buyer.
Immediately, the idea resonated. It wasn’t a lifelong dream, but it felt like destiny. I was growing restless with the precarious life of a ‘starving artist,’ and this felt like a viable solution.
Imagine: teaching at one location, earning good money, and still pursuing my own dance career during the day. How difficult could running a dance studio actually be?
If you’re a studio owner, you’re already chuckling. The answer, of course, is: incredibly hard! At 24, I naively stepped into dance studio ownership. The first year was incredibly humbling. I wrestled with insecurities about my vision for the studio, acutely aware of everyone’s reactions to the change in ownership. The previous owner didn’t smooth the transition; three months post-sale, she joined a competitor and actively poached former students. It took about three years for the dust to settle. Slowly, I gained confidence in my own approach, and the studio began to grow.
In those early years, I was the quintessential Jill-of-all-trades. Teaching most classes, cleaning studios, managing the books, handling marketing, and answering every single email. The sheer volume of work didn’t even register as unusual. I had the time, and truthfully, I enjoyed being in control of every aspect. This system worked – until I had my first child! Fortunately, around that time, my sister Colleen joined me. With her wholesale bakery experience, she transformed my chaotic “systems” (primarily sticky notes) into streamlined processes that revolutionized our daily studio operations.
Prioritizing time at home with my daughter was paramount. The thought of juggling a newborn and a five-day teaching week was overwhelming. After her birth, I scaled back to teaching just two evenings a week. Initially, the schedule change caused some ripples. Parents were concerned about class coverage and studio management in my absence. But you know what happened when the school year began? Nothing! Absolutely nothing disruptive.
Leading up to that year, we had diligently worked to optimize our operations. Simple tools like cleaning schedules, phone logs, and daily task lists ensured smooth functioning. Our clients learned that most inquiries didn’t require my direct involvement. Our office staff and teachers were empowered with the knowledge and authority to address most questions. We equipped our team to take initiative and solve problems independently. Crucially, I learned to trust my staff and had confidence in their abilities.
Unknowingly, we were building the very foundation of Resourceful Dance during this period.
Fast forward a few years. Colleen and I both had children, and I was pregnant with my second. After a period of unemployment, my husband received a job offer… in Omaha. Staying in Chicago with my parents while he started the job and continued searching locally was an option, but it didn’t feel right for our family unit.
I decided to move with him. Knowing I’d be less involved in teaching due to the new baby, and confident in the studio’s operational resilience, I made the leap. It wasn’t easy, and I wouldn’t necessarily recommend this path, but the studio continued to thrive. Colleen managed three evenings a week, and our refined systems prevented any major issues. I visited Chicago roughly every six weeks, and many of our studio families were unaware I was living out of state.
I initially viewed the move as temporary, a year or two at most. While I cherished being home with my children, I began to feel disconnected from the aspects of studio ownership I loved. I was increasingly bogged down in less appealing tasks. We also started noticing the impact of neglecting marketing for a couple of years. Operations were solid, but vital, time-consuming marketing activities took a backseat to immediate needs.
Our website, social media presence, community engagement, and development of new programs all needed attention, but with limited time, they were consistently deprioritized. These crucial marketing efforts, while not immediately revenue-generating, are essential for long-term growth. They demand time and consistent effort, and their impact isn’t always immediately apparent, which can feel overwhelming. I understand that feeling deeply!
About halfway through my second year in Omaha, my husband received an offer for a three-year position in Washington DC. It was an excellent career opportunity.
My options, as I saw them, were: 1) maintain the studio remotely from DC, 2) move back to Chicago, or 3) sell my dance studio. Returning to the studio meant not only resuming a five-day teaching schedule but also dedicating significant additional time to marketing to revitalize growth.
Option 2 would mean my husband forgoing a fantastic job opportunity and returning to the less certain Chicago job market. Practically, it would also mean my family living with my parents until he secured employment. Moving to DC and continuing remote ownership would place even more burden on my already busy sister, especially since my visits would decrease to just 2-3 times a year. Crucially, the studio needed more attention, not less, and that responsibility would fall squarely on her shoulders – while she was pregnant with her second child.
After much deliberation and emotional conversations, I listened to my intuition and decided to sell my dance studio.
Announcing the decision was incredibly difficult, yet a wave of relief washed over me the moment the words were out.
Had my children been older, had Colleen’s children been older, had my husband been in a different profession, perhaps I would have chosen differently. But given our circumstances, selling felt like the most responsible path forward. I had subconsciously assumed studio ownership was a lifelong commitment, feeling somewhat trapped by that assumption. Realizing I had the agency to change course was incredibly liberating.
The entire process unfolded seamlessly. My first step was informing my teachers. One teacher responded with an immediate “yes” to buying the studio. He had been contemplating his next career move, seeking an opportunity to lead and innovate, and my call came at the perfect time. The transition was remarkably smooth. I braced myself for potential drama, but it never materialized. We announced the change to our families before the final recital, allowing ample time to address any concerns. Colleen and I became, and remain, his biggest supporters, thrilled to witness the continued growth of our dancers.
The systems we implemented when I had my daughter, and further refined when I moved to Omaha, truly strengthened my business. We had created a “sellable” business. While it’s tempting to think I was indispensable, for the long-term health of any business, it’s crucial to detach your ego and ensure it can function independently. Investing time in developing robust systems provides options when life throws curveballs. Had I remained on the path of doing everything myself, I would have been unable to sell the business when the time came.
Emotionally, it was a challenging period. Colleen and I shed many tears. But deep down, I knew it was the right decision. Reflecting on the past few years, I’m only now beginning to grasp the weight of the stress I had been carrying. I’m also realizing how overly ambitious my goals were. I didn’t allocate nearly enough time or resources to marketing and spent excessive time on tasks I disliked (bookkeeping, I’m looking at you!). The years Colleen and I worked physically side-by-side were undoubtedly the best, simply because of the invaluable support we provided each other.
Through Resourceful Dance, we aim to be that support system for you and your dance studio.
Our mission at Resourceful Dance is to help studio owners like you objectively assess your businesses and implement strategies for a thriving future. Colleen and I recognize the need for this support because we ourselves experienced it firsthand. We understand the unique struggles, the passion, and the emotional investment inherent in running a dance studio. Most importantly, we understand the vital need for a supportive community. I’m eager to connect with you, learn about your dance studio, and embark on this journey together.
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