A hospital bathroom is not the place I ever imagined doing “shimmies,” but when you need to let loose, even a tiled walk-in shower with steel handrails can be a dance floor. Especially if you Jazzercise.
2-4-6-8: Jazzercise! Yes, Jazzercise: the group exercise class you associate with your grandma (if you’re under age 50), your mom (if you’re 50) or maybe just Stranger Things. (Here’s looking at you, Gen Z ‘80s nostalgia fans.) Founded by professional dancer Judi Sheppard Missett in 1969 — an era when women weren’t legally permitted to have credit cards in their own names — Jazzercise is to the fitness industry what leg warmers are to fashion: forever frozen in time, associated with Reaganomics and shopping malls and sky-high bangs.
But what if Jazzercise were more than that? What if, instead of punchlines and kitsch, Jazzercise represented a lifeline for millions of women — especially those often overlooked, in the autumn and winter of life — who desired an outlet for their energy, a hope for their longevity, and a place to move among other women looking to do the same?
I took my first Jazzercise class at age 14 in a community rec center. My mom brought me. I was never going to make my high school dance team or perform for an audience. Somewhere in Illinois (and later, southern California), Judi knew that. She designed Jazzercise for women who dreamt of being dancers but would remain offstage. She created choreography that was easy to learn and fun to perform. She empowered women of all ages and abilities to tap into their creative spirit, their desire to shine. She gave every woman a spotlight.
A 1981 Jazzercise album featuring Judi Sheppard Missett.
Courtesy Jazzercise, Inc.
A few weeks ago, I traveled to Carlsbad, California, the home of Jazzercise HQ. This is where Judi, now 80, built her female-founded business into a trailblazing fitness-industry juggernaut. Sun-dappled, strawberry-scented and brimming with kinetic energy, Carlsbad is where Judi taught women that they were free to move. “It was empowerment,” she says. “It was women feeling like they wanted to express themselves. That they were powerful, that they were strong, that they had control over their own bodies.”
Saturday, March 8, is International Women’s Day, and March is Women’s History Month. Judi Sheppard Missett — a mother of two, including her daughter Shanna Missett Nelson, 56, now the CEO of Jazzercise and an instructor who teaches classes every week in her local studios — is a woman who recognized a universal need within other women. So she built a multimillion-dollar business around it, led by women, that now offers classes around the world. (Japan is especially obsessed.)
How did I end up shimmying in that bathroom, and how did it save my life? Read on.
Athleticism Not Required
After I started attending my first Jazzercise classes at 14, I brought a friend. She was a gifted high school soccer player, full of strength and grace. Gamely, she joined me for a class, with its mix of retirees, moms and a smattering of younger women and teens. The music started, and my friend — who could easily run the length of a soccer field and back countless times — struggled to follow the steps as we grapevined our way through the first routine. Am I saying I got a confidence boost knowing I was able to do something that my more athletic peer found perplexing? Well, yes. But more importantly: I learned that there are different types of movement. Mine is a step-ball-change. And that’s okay.
Shanna Missett Nelson photographed in 2020.
Peter Yang
Embracing Every Age
At the Carlsbad studio, there are women in their early 20s taking and teaching classes (among them: third-generation Jazzercise instructor Skyla Nelson, 22, Judi’s granddaughter and Shanna’s daughter) along with those in their 80s and 90s. (The oldest is 95!) I ask you: What could be more empowering than working out alongside women who have springs in their feet and those in need of orthopedic shoes? (Shanna’s newest class is specifically designed for post-menopausal women, a segment of the population that until recently was exclusively catered to by Chico’s.)
And because the choreography is the same at any studio in the world — let’s put our hands up for the new routine set to Lady Gaga’s “Abracadabra” — anyone, anywhere can join in. Dance is a universal language. It just requires the self-permission to join in.
From left: Skyla Nelson, Shanna Missett Nelson, Judi Sheppard Nelson and Sienna Nelson in 2020.
Peter Yang
For Women, by Women
In my teens, I needed an outlet for my insecurity, my uncertainty, my impossible awkwardness. In my 20s and 30s, I needed a place to recharge apart from my exhausting small children. In my 40s, I needed somewhere to feel strong as I progressed into the challenges of middle age. But in every chapter, what I really needed was to feel as though I weren’t alone. Other teens, other mothers, other women learning to adapt through change were Jazzercising too. That sense of community and sisterhood — even as a virtual customer taking classes at home — has been a lifeline through all the phases of womanhood.
Finding Freedom in Dance
So, the hospital bathroom. In March 2020, one of my kids had a medical crisis. Three days later, as I slept in a cot beside his bed, the world shut down. The two of us were subsequently confined to a tiny hospital room for five days. But thanks to Judi (and my laptop), I had Jazzercise. For five days, one hour a day, I took classes in that cold, tiled bathroom. I shimmied, gravevined and step-ball-changed like no one was watching. (I think possibly a nurse was watching? Oh well.) Since then, I have taken Jazzercise classes most days, mambo-ing everywhere from hotel rooms to my kitchen to Carlsbad. Would I have survived without it? I don’t know. The weight of partnerhood and motherhood and womanhood is heavy. Judi, and her gift of dance that’s accessible to anyone, has made it lighter.
GIPHY App Key not set. Please check settings