Excellence Without Elitism

On returning to RAD as a teacher, redefining standards, and finding my place in something bigger...

Today I attended the Royal Academy of Dance Australia (Queensland) General Meeting, and I left feeling unexpectedly moved. Not in a dramatic way. Not in a teary, sentimental way. Just quietly solid.

For context, I grew up in the RAD system. From Pre-Primary through to my Advanced exams, I was very much an “exam girl.” I loved the preparation. I loved the structure. I loved the process of refining something over months and presenting it with polish and intention. I thrived in that environment, and in many ways it shaped how I understand discipline, artistry, and long-term development.

When I opened my studio, however, I didn’t immediately become a registered RAD teacher. I chose a different syllabus that aligned more closely with my full-time training at The Australian Ballet School, which had been strongly influenced by the Vaganova method. At the time, it felt like the right fit. It served me for a season. But over the years, I began to notice a disconnect between the system I was teaching and the community I was building.

My studio is inclusive and diverse. It holds ambitious teenagers alongside adult beginners, children dancing purely for joy alongside students working toward examinations. I realised that while the syllabus I was teaching was technically rigorous, it didn’t fully reflect the culture I wanted to cultivate. So I made the decision to return to RAD and complete my Diploma of Dance to become a registered teacher.

It required a significant investment of time and money — neither of which I had in abundance — but it felt important to do it properly. What surprised me most during that process was the generosity of the RAD community. I was met with kindness, encouragement, and genuine support from teachers and studio owners, many of whom had known me as a child or remembered my early training. There was no sense of competition. Instead, there was a quiet, steady welcome.

Sitting in the room today with Queensland members of an organisation that has existed for more than a century, I felt part of something enduring. That might sound grand, but it was a very simple feeling: a recognition that I was aligned with a legacy that values both excellence and progression.

The CEO, Elizabeth Honer, spoke about upholding excellence without allowing it to become elitism. That distinction stayed with me. Excellence has, at times, been misunderstood as exclusivity or rigidity. Yet what I heard today was something different — a commitment to high standards alongside joy, access, and inclusivity. Three things I live for and stand by every single day in this profession.

That has always been my intention within Balanced Ballerinas as an international brand and within my own studio walls locally. I have never believed that standards need to be softened to make ballet welcoming. Nor do I believe that inclusivity requires lowering expectations. We can ask for commitment, discipline, and care while still creating spaces where students feel seen and supported.

Another idea that resonated deeply was the concept of doing less, but doing it exceptionally well. Over the past few years, I have intentionally simplified my offerings and refined my focus. Not because I want to do less work, but because I want to do the right work, well. There is strength in clarity. There is power in resisting the urge to constantly add.

Elizabeth also spoke about teachers being the place where change begins. We shape the culture of ballet at the grassroots level. We determine whether our studios reflect the diversity of the communities around us. We influence the future audiences who will sit in theatres and the dancers who will stand on stages. That responsibility is not abstract; it is daily and practical.

As I left the meeting, I felt motivated in a grounded way. Not hyped. Not performative. Simply clear. Clear that returning to RAD was the right decision. Clear that excellence and inclusivity are not opposites. Clear that being part of a long-standing institution does not mean losing individuality — it means contributing to something larger than yourself.

I have never struggled to walk my own path. I am comfortable building independently. But there is something reassuring about knowing you are connected to a lineage that values the same principles you do. It reminds you that your work is not isolated; it sits within a broader story.

And for the first time in a while, I felt not just like a studio owner or a teacher, but like a member of a living, evolving community.

Fun fact before I go — Elizabeth Honer is an adult ballerina.

Although she only dipped her toe into ballet as a child, she’s now a proud ‘Silver Swan’ (an adult syllabus within RAD), attending class two to three times per week. I had a feeling I’d like her the moment I saw her — and learning that confirmed it.

A CEO who quite literally walks into the studio, stands at the barre, and places herself in the shoes of the people she serves? That’s a beautiful kind of leadership.

Georgia x