MISTY COPELAND / THE INSPIRATION SERIES
A place
to begin.
The dancer, the people who helped her,
and the invitation she keeps extending.
By Rob Urban
The detail I keep returning to in Misty Copeland’s story is a basketball court.
It is a wonderfully ordinary place for an extraordinary artistic life to begin. Someone arranged a class. A teacher noticed a child. Ballet became available to a person who had not yet imagined what it might give her.
That beginning helps me understand what I admire in Copeland’s later work. Her place in ballet history is significant. So is the attention she gives to the people who helped her, the dancers who preceded her, and the conditions that let someone else begin.
There is generosity in making those connections visible. A reader who arrives knowing one famous name can leave with several more. A child who recognizes her can discover that dancing is something they are allowed to try.
THE BASKETBALL COURT
Someone thought
to offer a class.
In her 2022 conversation with MetroFocus, Copeland recalled her first ballet class at a Boys & Girls Club in San Pedro. She was thirteen. Teacher Cynthia Bradley was offering children a route toward further study through scholarships.
I love how concrete that entrance is. It required a place, a class and a person who could recognize possibility.
Thirteen is late in the customary training path of an elite ballet dancer. It is still very young in a human life. Remembering both things lets us appreciate the unusual trajectory without making an unfamiliar art form feel closed to everyone who has yet to start.
The basketball court also changes what I notice about access. An invitation becomes meaningful when there is somewhere to go and someone ready to teach.
THE ARTIST
The years inside
the milestone.
Copeland’s official biography records the stages: ABT Studio Company in 2000, corps de ballet in 2001, soloist in 2007, principal in June 2015. She became the first Black woman promoted to principal dancer at American Ballet Theatre.
That precise achievement deserves its place in history. The years between the dates deserve attention, too.
Her roles included the title part in Alexei Ratmansky’s Firebird, created on her in 2012, and Odette/Odile in Swan Lake.
A dancer’s work contains particular artistic questions: how to shape a phrase, respond to a partner, distinguish a character, and make technique carry an intention the audience can feel.
I admire a career that invites us to consider both the historic moment and the artist within it. The milestone brings more people to the performance. The performance gives them something to discover.
THE MENTOR
Remember
who was there.
Copeland uses her own visibility to direct us toward Raven Wilkinson.
In an ALL ARTS interview about The Wind at My Back, she described Wilkinson’s pioneering work with Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo in the 1950s and the guidance she gave Copeland during her years as an ABT soloist.
Copeland credited Wilkinson’s love, support and example as essential to her own path. She also connected the memoir with Black Ballerinas and the need to document Black women’s contributions to ballet.
I find that deeply appealing. A woman celebrated as a first takes time to explain who was already there.
The friendship gives history a living form. A younger artist can ask questions of someone who understands the profession. The older artist’s experience becomes part of how the next person finds her way.
BE BOLD
Let the pleasure
be part of it.
The foundation’s BE BOLD program carries the invitation into afterschool ballet for children of color aged five to twelve.
Its framework combines ballet fundamentals, age-appropriate health and wellness content, and live music exploration. Teaching artists receive specialized professional development twice a year.
Those details give the idea substance. The experience is being designed by people who understand dance, teaching and children. Enjoyment has a place in the description alongside learning.
I appreciate an introduction that lets a child discover what movement feels like before demanding a professional ambition from them. A class can matter because it gives someone a new way to listen, move, express a thought or enjoy being with other people.
The pleasure of participating is already a worthwhile outcome.
THE PRACTICAL DETAILS
Shoes. Music.
A place to move.
The foundation’s description of its community partnerships gets even more practical. Sessions include live accompaniment. Participants receive ballet shoes, a T-shirt and a copy of Black Ballerinas.
Partner sites provide a suitable space, a designated liaison, registration support and access to afterschool mentoring and tutoring.
I like seeing the shoes and the registration coordinator in the same story as the celebrated dancer. These are some of the things that turn enthusiasm into an experience a family can actually use.
The book also belongs there. A child can move in class and meet dancers on the page, discovering a wider history alongside the first steps.
That is a connection I admire in LeVar Burton’s work as well: a welcoming beginning can make further exploration feel possible.
NEXT STEPS
Help someone
reach the class.
The foundation’s 2025–2026 Celebrating Misty campaign, connected with her farewell from ABT, describes another stage of support: BE BOLD Next Steps.
Its account names The Ailey School, Dance Theatre of Harlem and 92NY as places where program graduates continue their training, with support for tuition, attire and transportation.
Transportation is a particularly telling inclusion. Being offered a place and being able to reach it are different practical questions. Someone has thought about both.
That is the kind of follow-through I find moving in this work. An introduction can lead to a new interest; a new interest can create a need for another kind of help. The path can be built far enough for a child to take the next step.
BE BOLDER
Another age.
Another beginning.
The invitation also extends in another direction. BE BOLDER, piloted in summer 2025, offers ballet-based movement for adults fifty and older, with live music, storytelling and adaptations including chair-based options.
I appreciate what that adds to the meaning of access. The question becomes how people at different stages of life can enjoy participating.
An art form can contain extraordinary professional achievement and a welcoming class for someone trying a movement for the first time. Both experiences deserve thoughtful teaching.
Copeland’s foundation gives that idea a practical setting. The invitation is wide enough to include a person whose interest begins long after the age at which a professional career would normally be planned.
What I admire is the attention to beginnings and continuations.
Copeland remembers a teacher and a community space. She honors a mentor and a history that deserves more readers. She helps create classes, then considers what further participation will require.
Her achievement remains hers. These connections make it more interesting to understand, because they show how many people can matter in an artistic life.
I keep picturing the ordinary room before the class starts. It may still look like a basketball court. For someone about to walk in, it can become the place where a new part of life begins.
Sources: Copeland’s official biography and PBS interviews; the Misty Copeland Foundation’s program and community partnership descriptions. Linked throughout. Current program details checked September 30, 2026. Appreciation and interpretation by Rob Urban.