At Second Chance Dance, people of all ages, shapes and sizes rediscover confidence and community

In a bright studio on Henry Avenue in Philadelphia’s Roxborough section, mirrors reflect a rare sight in the dance world — people of all ages and occupations moving together with power and joy.

They are part of Second Chance Dance, the adults-only studio founded by Alyssa Bowser, who believes everyone deserves a stage.

“It doesn’t matter when you start — it matters that you start,” Bowser said.

Bowser opened the space to redefine who gets to call themselves a dancer. Classes in ballet, modern, jazz, hip hop, tap and more welcome beginners and regulars alike — people who once thought their time had passed. Instructors offer patient, personalized guidance.“You would keep showing up, and from there, you’ll see progression,” Bowser explains. “They’re giving you corrections specific to just you so that you, as an individual, can improve.”

For many, SCD is more than a dance studio — it’s home.

“If you go to various dance studios across the city, you just dance alongside people,” said Evon Burton, who nominated Bowser for the Good Souls Project. “That’s not Second Chance Dance at all. It’s a family.”

Burton began dancing at the age of two. Like many, he fell in love with the art form during her childhood but stopped training in adulthood.

“When I heard that there was an adults-only dance studio, it was something I had been praying for for a long time,” he says.

‘One step, one move, one beat at a time’

Few students embody the spirit of SCD like Jazmine Johnson.

“I always wanted to dance,” Johnson recalls. “I thought it was so beautiful. But I felt like my time had passed.”

At 30 years old, Johnson walked into SCD unsure of what she could physically do. At the time she weighed about 200 pounds and was not very active.

“I felt really insecure about my body,” she said. “I couldn’t do anything that was basic at that point.”

Bowser encouraged her to stick with it. Step by step, Johnson’s confidence grew — and so did her strength. She lost nearly 50 pounds and dropped multiple dress sizes.

“Like, I’m literally doing turns, catching my leg, and doing all these things that I didn’t think my body was able to do,” Johnson said.

She also found transformation far beyond the dance floor.

“I’ve become so much more disciplined through this,” Johnson said. “It translated into my work, how I show up for people, the relationships that I have.”

Johnson, who is now 33, is a certified instructor at SCD, teaching a modified form of ballet and stretching classes.

“My inner child is so happy,” she said. “She’s so proud of me. And I love that.”

‘Movement has always been my language’

For Bowser, the power of dance is personal. Growing up in the city’s Olney neighborhood, she started dancing as a little girl — until a house fire at age 7 brought everything to a halt.

“Dance wasn’t gonna be an option when we didn’t have somewhere to stay,” she recalled.

Eventually, she found her way back and was able to attend dance schools in Philadelphia and South Jersey. Her training helped her secure a place at Philadelphia’s renowned Creative and Performing Arts High School under the tough, yet loving tutelage of the late LaDiva Davis.

“The standards that she instilled in us — I carry with me forever,” she said.

Bowser set dance aside to study business and culture at Arcadia University, trading creativity for practicality.

But the choice left her unmoored and lost. Her creative voice grew quiet.

“I went through the depression of all depressions,” she said. “My emotions were all over the place.”

After a decade working for the federal government, Bowser decided to follow her passion.

“Movement has always been my language,” she said. “It’s how I dealt with the world.”

‘People saw themselves — and they showed up’

In the summer of 2022, Bowser rented a small studio and posted an open invitation on Eventbrite.

“Thirty-two strangers who didn’t know each other showed up for six weeks,” she said. “At the end, they asked, ‘So what’s next?’”

Encouraged by the response, Bowser bought the Henry Avenue building and officially opened SCD that November, but only three people came.

“People would tell me, ‘Yeah, but I’m plus-size. I don’t think I can make it through a class. I don’t even go to the gym,” Bowser recalled. “It wasn’t excuses — that was their reality.”

Then her students began sharing their stories online — by the following spring, Bowser had 23 students enrolled. By summer, 50. That first recital? A sold-out show.

“We sold, let me see — 600, 650 tickets for our first recital, which was amazing,” she said.

Three years later, SCD has hundreds of students, ten teachers and more demand than ever.

“Every year we’re adding more and more people,” Bowser said.

Good Soul Work: Second Chance Dance is more than a business

“Alyssa is a good soul because she is a community builder,” Burton said.

Johnson agrees.

“She nourishes us in so many ways outside of just dance,” she says. “She’s the epitome of a good soul.”

For Bowser, the work is her legacy.

“When I think of good souls, I think of what you’re leaving behind,” she said. “What path you’re clearing for others to walk through — that’s a good soul to me.”