Interview with Angel Kaba

Angel Kaba represents a rare blend of artist, director, and cultural translator. Born in Belgium with Congolese and Martinique heritage. She has built an international presence rooted in AfroDance and Hip Hop while carving out her base in

New York City.

Her career stretches far beyond teaching or performing. Angel made history as the first African and Caribbean woman to direct and choreograph an Off Broadway production with BREAKIN’NYC, a work centered on the stories, foundations, and evolution of Hip Hop and street dance culture.

The project reflects a consistent theme in her work: movement as both expression and narrative.

As the founder of AfroDance New York, Angel has focused on building community. Her platform is designed not only to celebrate social dances of the African diaspora, but also to support the knowledge, cultural context, and professional realities that surround them.

Her artistic journey has included collaborations with globally recognized music artists and major entertainment brands, spanning stage, television, and commercial spaces. Yet despite the visibility of those credits, education remains central to her impact. Whether in New York or abroad, her classes emphasize musicality, technique, and cultural grounding rather than trend driven imitation.

For this Dancers Are Athletes feature, Angel Kaba offers insight drawn from years of navigating performance, authorship, identity, and longevity inside a constantly shifting industry.

What do you feel Afro’Dance gets misunderstood the most in the U.S.?

I think the biggest issue is misrepresentation and a lack of respect.

In many commercial studios and training programs, African dance is treated as something “extra,” an add-on class you take here and there instead of being respected as a foundational technique with its own depth, structure, and history. It’s often not valued in the same way as ballet, jazz, or contemporary dance are.

In the entertainment industry, we’re starting to see more African dance choreographers and dancers getting opportunities, which is beautiful and long overdue. But it’s still very underrepresented.

Many incredibly creative choreographers create visually stunning pieces to African music. However, the choreography isn’t always rooted in authentic African dance technique or aesthetics. Often, the jobs go to people who are already well-known and respected in the industry, rather than hiring specialists who deeply understand the culture and movement vocabulary.

That said, I do see change happening. Slowly but surely, there’s more awareness, more education, and more space being created for African dance to be honored properly. And for that, I’m grateful.

What’s the difference between honoring culture and exploiting it for visibility?

Honoring a culture means giving people access to knowledge, context, and understanding. It means taking the time to learn where the movement comes from, who it belongs to, what it represents, and then creating space for that culture to be respected.

Exploitation, on the other hand, is using the aesthetic for personal benefit, visibility, money, clout, or career advancement without creating space for the people and the history behind it. 

Sometimes people simply don’t know. But once context is given, once the history and meaning are made clear, there’s no excuse. At that point, if someone continues to disregard the culture, it becomes a conscious choice. And that choice tells us everything.

What doors opened for you only after you reached a certain level of visibility?

For a long time, I wasn’t being invited to teach at major dance conventions or conferences. Even though I had the training, the experience, and the expertise, those spaces didn’t always feel accessible.

Once my dance education content started gaining more visibility online, things began to shift. That exposure opened doors to some of the most prestigious events, where I was finally able to share my knowledge and represent the work on a larger platform.

That said, it’s still not as consistent as what you see with other dance styles that are programmed year after year. But I’m grateful for every opportunity, and I make sure I stay ready, so when the next big door opens, I can walk through it fully prepared.

Have you ever outgrown a version of yourself that people still expect you to be?

People often mistake my kindness for weakness. I’m genuinely a nice person. I love seeing people happy, that’s just my nature.

But kindness doesn’t mean I’m unaware. The moment you show me I can’t trust you, I can switch up very quickly. (Lol) I’ve grown into someone who is much more aware and much more selective with my energy.

So yes, maybe some people still think they can take advantage of my kindness, without realizing that I’m kind because I choose to be.

At every stage of my life, I’ve been authentic and transparent about who I am. The difference now is that I honor my boundaries just as much as I honor my heart.

How has your relationship with your body changed over time?

As I’ve matured both as a dancer and as a woman, my relationship with my body has become more intentional. I take better care of myself now. I train smarter, I go to the gym with more awareness, and I understand the importance of recovery.

Staying in tune with my body is especially important to me as a mother. My body has changed,  but I’ve learned to celebrate every stage.

What does longevity actually require that dancers avoid dealing with?

Longevity requires consistency and intentionality, and that’s what many dancers try to avoid.

We live in a time where everyone wants results quickly. I understand the idea of working smarter, not harder. But without deep, clear intention behind what you’re doing, you won’t last in this industry.

If your only motivation is fast success, you’ll burn out. You’ll get discouraged when things don’t happen as quickly as you expected. And dance is hard, physically, mentally, and emotionally. It’s a sport, it’s an art form, and it’s a business. There are thousands of dancers who are just as motivated and talented as you.

So what makes you different? What makes you stand out?

I believe it’s your authenticity, your work ethic, and your talent, but also your character. People like working with professionals who are reliable, prepared, and not problematic. Longevity isn’t just about how well you dance. It’s about who you are, how you show up, and whether people trust you enough to keep calling you back.

That’s the part many dancers don’t want to deal with: the discipline, the patience, and the personal growth that happens behind the scenes.

What’s the pressure no one sees behind consistency and content?

The pressure people don’t see is the mental and creative load behind it all.

It’s constantly finding new and relevant topics without losing yourself in the process. It’s trying to stay authentic online while algorithms, trends, and expectations are pulling you in different directions. That balance is not easy.

Creating content consistently is a real job. It’s filming, editing, planning, writing, posting, engaging, and then doing it all over again. And most of us are doing this on top of teaching, training, performing, running businesses, and taking care of our families.

We’re basically doing multiple jobs within 24 hours. (Lol)

What people see is the final post. What they don’t see is the discipline, the pressure to stay relevant, and the effort it takes to remain authentic while showing up consistently.

What boundaries have you had to create to protect your creativity?

One of the biggest boundaries I’ve had to create is truly valuing and monetizing my time.

In this industry, some clients expect you to do everything for very little compensation. Casting dancers, creating choreography, booking rehearsal space, coaching, teaching, all of it, without understanding that each stage of the creative process requires different skills, time, and energy.

Now, when I send a proposal, I clearly break down every stage of my creative process so people understand what they’re paying for. Transparency protects both my work and my energy.

I’ve also become much more selective about the projects I take on. At this stage in my career, a project has to do at least one of three things: help me grow, compensate me properly, or create meaningful impact and advancement. Ideally, it does all three.

Protecting my creativity means protecting my time, my standards, and my vision.

What money mistake cost you the most time or energy?

Probably not starting to save for retirement earlier, and not building a healthier relationship with money overall.

As artists, we’re often focused on passion, opportunities, and survival. Long-term financial planning doesn’t always feel urgent in the beginning. But over time, you realize how important it is to think beyond the next gig or project.

What does a successful dance career actually look like to you now?

To me, a successful dance career is when you’re aligned with who you are and clear about what you want to do. It’s being able to make good or at least decent money doing what you love. But beyond that, it’s about fulfillment.

It’s about being at peace with where you are in your journey, instead of constantly chasing the next thing. 

For me, success is alignment, stability, and happiness.

What’s one truth about the dance industry that people aren’t ready to hear?

Talent is not enough.

You can be incredibly gifted, hardworking, and passionate, and still, everything can stop tomorrow. A contract ends. A trend shifts. An injury happens. The industry moves fast and doesn’t always explain why.

That’s why you need more than talent. You need discipline, strategy, financial awareness, relationships, and consistency. And you absolutely need a Plan B, not because you’re planning to fail, but because you’re planning to be smart.

Consistency is what keeps you in the room. Preparation is what keeps you ready when the opportunity comes back around.

What’s something you’re proud of that no one sees?

Being a mother to my beautiful daughter.

She is my favorite person in the world. I love being a mother just as much as I love being an artist.

People see the performances, the content, the teaching, the projects. What they don’t always see is the love, the balance, the sacrifice, and the quiet strength it takes to show up fully in both roles.