A casual passerby along 601 Preston St might notice the concentration of perfectly postured figures entering and exiting the building, as if a Degas painting transposed from 1800s Paris to present-day Houston had come to life. Home of the Houston Ballet Center for Dance, this is where the country’s fourth-largest ballet company practices and performs beloved ballets, including its annually anticipated rendition of Stanton Welch’s The Nutcracker.

But step a little closer, and you’ll notice something else: Not everyone who crosses the threshold is a professional dancer. Within the six-story facility, dancers of all ages come to hone their ballet techniques. Some find a different kind of movement—one that celebrates accessibility, expression, and community.

For more than 15 years, the Houston Ballet has quietly built one of the country’s most expansive adaptive dance programs, offering people of all ages and abilities a chance to experience the joy and benefits of dance. What began as a single class has evolved into a network that now serves tens of thousands of Houstonians each year.

The expansion of Houston Ballet’s accessible programming began in 2009 with Dance for Parkinson’s launch in New York in collaboration with the Mark Morris Dance Group. It provides professional ballet instruction to individuals diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease. Its Houston iteration, directed by Jennifer Sommers, who joined the Ballet’s Education and Community Engagement team in 2010, laid the foundation for everything that followed.

In 2012, Houston Ballet introduced adaptive dance classes for students with Down syndrome, inspired by a similar initiative at Boston Ballet School. Sommers collaborated with the Down Syndrome Association of Houston and Easter Seals of Greater Houston to design a curriculum shaped by input from physical and occupational therapists. “They were really helpful in helping us create a template lesson plan that we could base that program on,” Sommers says. From there, the reach grew organically. The Ballet partnered with Houston’s Special Schools Coalition, the Monarch School, and Gateway Academy, where adaptive social dance group classes helped students prepare for prom.

Houston Ballet later expanded into HISD and other districts with special education programs, prioritizing campuses where 75 percent or more of the population face economic disadvantages. Most of the programming is free, Sommers adds. “The reason we do that is to make sure students who can’t afford to get resources…are getting it through Houston Ballet,” Sommers says.

The impact has been significant: In the 2024–2025 academic year alone, Houston Ballet served more than 61,000 students through 17 programs across more than 280 schools in 22 different districts. The ballet also visited more than 20 local libraries and community centers and formed crucial partnerships with organizations such as Arts Connect Houston and the Houston Area Parkinson’s Society. “We want that partnership because we know the partner understands the community the best,” Sommers says.

Hyacinth Thomas initially connected with the Houston Ballet through the Down Syndrome Association of Houston, and as soon as her daughter, Jensen, turned 5, she enrolled her in the ballet’s adapted dance classes. She reasoned that dance classes, which focus on core, hip flexor, and foot and ankle strength, could be a place where Jensen, who has Down syndrome, could build her muscles, confidence, and bravery while also having fun. Ten years later, Jensen, now a high school freshman, still anticipates Saturday afternoon dance lessons. There, she will chassé and leap, learning to move with grace and confidence. The results are noticeable in her other athletic pursuits—basketball, pickleball, baseball, and soccer. “It’s just been a win-win since the start,” Thomas says.

The improvement has also been remarkable, she adds. Movements that once seemed impossible—like the crabwalk, which requires lifting the torso off the ground and walking on hands and feet—became second nature. And in some ways, dance proved more helpful than physical therapy. “You could see it building throughout each session,” she says.

Inside the brightly lit studio on a recent Saturday, Jensen leads her classmates in warm-ups. “My favorite part is when we dance together,” she says. Musician Kirk Suddreath plays live music on a djembe and ukulele while instructors Aimee Kilgore and Brittany Bass call out encouragement. Parents watch from the sidelines as the students glide across the floor, some following with their fingers, others with their feet, each finding their own groove.

“You’ve got the physical element. You’ve got the cognitive element. You’ve got the social-emotional element, because there’s a lot of opportunity to reflect and give choices—to express how you feel,” Sommers says. “And then there’s also the social element.”

Thomas says the classes have noticeably helped Jensen to become more outgoing and able to interact equally with other children of all abilities. Being surrounded by professional dancers and instructors who adapt to students' needs only amplifies that sense of belonging. “It just makes them feel like, ‘I can do it too,’” Thomas explains.

Behind the program’s growth are countless advocates and collaborators—among them, former principal dancers (one of whom has a child with Down syndrome) and Houston Ballet’s former executive director Jim Nelson, whose support, Sommers says, was instrumental. “Not every education director has an executive director who believes that we have a responsibility as the largest dance organization in Houston to create access,” she says.

Today, the Houston Ballet Center for Dance stands as both a performance hub and a symbol of inclusion—a place where art and accessibility move in step. At its heart lies a simple belief: “Ballet is for everybody,” Thomas says. No instrument is necessary—just a body discovering its rhythm, story, and potential.  

It imparts an important lesson for family members of those with special needs. “Opportunities exist for them,” Thomas says, and it goes far beyond dancing. “It’s inclusion. It’s community. It’s having lots of fun.”