Earlier this month, a “Dirtylicious Dance Fitness” class offered at the Provo City Recreation Center was canceled following complaints of the content being inappropriate for a family-friendly facility, which led to a review by city officials.
This cancellation has prompted comparisons to Footloose, a popular 1980s film starring Kevin Bacon about a fictional small town in Utah that bans dancing and rock music. Yet this is nothing like Footloose; the classes in question continue to be offered in private gyms in other locations, while the recreation center still offers a variety of more general dance fitness classes.
“Dirtylicious Dance Fitness” classes are described by creator Erica Tanner as a “definitely sexy and really empowering movement” for women to fall in love with their bodies “as they are right now.” To be blunt, these classes teach dances, including lap dances, that are highly sexualized and choreographed to music with sexually explicit lyrics.
The classes are popular and are no doubt a great workout. I understand the disappointment of those who loved taking this class at the recreation center.
When my first daughter was born, my husband and I lived in a tiny apartment less than a block from the Provo Recreation Center, and the community support and exercise-induced endorphins I received from taking dance fitness classes there were essential in beating the baby blues.
But it is completely reasonable to say this class crosses some lines for a family-friendly space, especially a space that allows children 14 years old and up to attend fitness classes.
This is not the first viral news headline about a woman or women who feel repressed by some kind of an institutional boundary limiting her free expression. At least every few months, there is a new story about a woman showing up at Disneyland in a bikini top or sports bra and being asked to purchase a shirt and cover up.
Last week, a woman was refused boarding on a Spirit Airline flight because her shorts exposed her buttocks, which led to a confrontation and the eventual arrest of her sister for disorderly conduct.
Myrtle Beach gets negative news coverage every year for its prohibition on thong bikinis.
Stories like this are generally accompanied by collective outrage on social media with cries of sexism and demands to “do better.”
While we live in a diverse and pluralistic society where freedom of expression is a virtue, we seem to be losing sight of a quiet, but crucial, social contract: that some spaces should prioritize children and families over adult self-expression.
I have no desire to go back to the days when pants or shorts were outlawed for women in public. But because we live in a time and place of such great liberty, we will have to draw some reasonable boundaries for what is appropriate in shared public spaces.
These boundaries will feel too restrictive to some and not nearly conservative enough to others. But the goal isn’t to impose personal preferences — it’s to recover our shared intuition of what family-friendly means: language, clothing and behavior that protect childhood innocence.
So why have we become so uncomfortable drawing these lines?
Part of the answer is cultural. We live in an age shaped by expressive individualism — the belief that the highest good is being true to oneself and expressing our inner identity outwardly. In this framework, personal fulfillment often trumps communal norms, and any external boundary can feel like repression.
But not every space can — or should — bend entirely to individual preference. Especially in public or family-oriented settings, we need a more thoughtful conversation about how to balance freedom with responsibility, and self-expression with care for others.
Some may point out that conversations like this often focus disproportionately on women. They might wonder: Is the expectation that women dress and act more conservatively just a modern form of misogyny — rooted in the ancient trope that female sexuality leads men to ruin?
I don’t think so. Frankly, I’ve never seen a man demand the right to dance sexually in public or wear shorts so short his bottom was exposed.
But I have been in many family environments — theme parks, playgrounds, fairs — where men spoke loudly and unapologetically used surprisingly coarse language. My children have learned more than one curse word in situations like that.
Both men and women shape the tone of public spaces. Both ought to do their best to contribute to making those spaces welcoming for children.
This is not a call for shame or judgment. Sexuality is not inherently bad. There are private times and places where expressions of sexuality are not only appropriate but sacred. I’m also not opposed to women (or men) taking classes they feel strengthen their intimate relationship with their spouse in private locations out of sight of any children.
You can be fully “sex-positive” and still support limits on public sexual expression.
What I am calling for is discernment, while rethinking this quick, collective outrage anytime an institution draws a reasonable line. Shared public spaces — especially those that cater to families — deserve an extra measure of care.
Whether we are parents or not, we all have a shared responsibility to consider the well-being of children. That kind of consideration isn’t oppressive — it’s sacred. It reflects the kind of love Christ showed when he knelt beside children, not in spite of their smallness, but because of it.
Freedom and boundaries are not opposites. We can protect individual choice while also recognizing that shared spaces require shared norms.
Modesty and public standards don’t have to come from fear or control, and they’re not always a moral panic.
Modesty and public standards don’t have to come from fear or control, and they’re not always a moral panic.
— Amanda Freebairn
At their best, they come from care — from the desire to build a world that honors children, respects differences and invites all of us to think beyond ourselves.