Billboard Japan spoke with L.A.-based dancer Sara Ito for the latest installment of its Women in Music interview series. The initiative launched in 2022 to celebrate artists, producers and executives who have made significant contributions to music and entertainment and inspired other women through their work, following the footsteps of Billboard’s annual Women in Music honors. This series featuring female players in the Japanese entertainment industry is one of the highlights of Japan‘s WIM project.
Born in Japan’s Ishikawa Prefecture, Ito decided early on to live her life as a dancer and moved to the U.S. alone when she was 16 years old. Now dancing alongside top global artists like NE-YO, the performer spoke to Billboard Japan online from Los Angeles about the beliefs that carried her across the ocean.
Something that stood out from a past interview was you saying, “Dance saved me.” Has your relationship with dance changed since you moved to the U.S.?
All kinds of people, like dancers, actors, and singers, come to Hollywood from all over the world chasing a dream. Everyone has their own values and genres, and they hold on to what makes them themselves. So instead of searching for “the right answer,” I’ve come to pursue the expression that feels true to my own core, the one where I can say, “This is it.” Back in Japan, it was like I was constantly trying to find the right way and felt like I had to be like so-and-so. Since coming to the U.S., I think I’ve learned to believe in myself more. In this environment, it’s the people with individuality who come out on top. How far you pursue your own style, and how much you love it, connects directly to the results you get.
How did you go about finding that expression that feels true to you?
Dance really did save my life. Honestly, my upbringing wasn’t the easiest, and I think if it weren’t for dance, I would have ended up on a path that wasn’t good. But because I had dance, I had something to dream about, and I could hold onto the conviction that I would absolutely succeed at it. Even when I was down or feeling negative, dance was the place where I could release it. Instead of bottling things up, I could express them through dance. That was my salvation, I think. I do a style called popping, where you “hit” your muscles, and part of why I chose that style was because I wanted to stake my whole life on that one hit. While keeping the fundamentals of popping intact, I try to stay conscious of honestly expressing the music and the emotion of that moment.
We often hear that it’s difficult for Asian dancers to thrive in the U.S. entertainment industry. Is that something you’ve felt firsthand?
I feel like the results and your individuality get recognized in a good way in this environment. What matters more than age or title is whether you have an expression only you can bring. My first job after getting my visa was working with the singer NE-YO, and out of four dancers, three were Black women and I was the only Asian. I’m small, 157 cm (5’2”) tall, and they had long limbs and great figures. At first I was hyper-aware of the differences in our builds and looks, and honestly there were times I thought, “Who am I kidding?” But I changed my mindset and decided to turn the nuance and expression that only I could bring into strengths, so that people would think, “I want to work with Sara,” not because I happen to be Asian or a woman.
Is your role as a backup dancer the same as your role as an individual artist, or different?
I think every dancer is also an expressive artist, so I consider dancers artists too. Even when you’re dancing behind a star, you’re building the work together with them. Every dancer brings their own form of expression to the same choreography and the same song, and each one has a charm only they can bring. Going forward, I’d love to see dancers valued more highly as “dance artists” in their own right.
This series focuses on women thriving in the entertainment industry. Do you feel that being a woman has shaped your career or your life?
I imagine there used to be more judgment around being a woman, and although there’s less of that kind of discrimination nowadays, it’s still not completely gone. Only women can give birth and they tend to take the lead role in raising children. So personally, I believe women are stronger than men. I’d like to keep breaking down the negative stereotypes of being a woman and show more of what we’re capable of — that I came to the U.S. without going to high school, saved up money, and got this far.
Do you feel a difference in gender discrepancies between Japan and the U.S.?
I’ve encountered racism more than sexism. I felt it especially during the pandemic. I’d get cold stares or verbal abuse on the bus just for being Asian. I was terrified even though I’d done nothing wrong, and really felt in my bones that racial discrimination hasn’t disappeared at all. Even so, the joy of connecting with friends from different countries through dance was stronger. I was able to keep pushing forward because I had friends I connected with through entertainment.
Are there successful women choreographers too?
Yes. I personally like working with women choreographers. Maybe it’s because they understand how to present women, being women themselves. Many of them were dancers when they were younger, so they understand how a working female dancer feels. NE-YO’s choreographer is also a woman, and she’s the person I admire most. So I have a role model close to me, who makes me think, “I want to be a strong, cool woman like her.”
For dancers, physical changes directly affect your work. Is there anything you take care to do in order to keep dancing for the long term?
I got injured for the first time in my life at the end of last year. I hurt my back so badly I ended up rushing to the ER in the middle of the night. Up until then, even when I skipped stretching, I’d be like, “I’m still in my early twenties, I’ll be totally fine.” But for a dancer, the body is your capital. I learned the hard way that I need to place more importance on properly listening to my body’s signals. Especially on tour, when I’m constantly moving and can’t go home, the show doesn’t get canceled just because I catch a cold. Managing my condition is my responsibility. I’ve come to realize that taking care of my health is something I can’t afford to neglect.
This is a question we ask everyone. If you could give advice to yourself in the first year of your career, what would you say?
My first year would be around when I got booked by NE-YO. Back then, I was struggling with my body type, like I mentioned. The costumes were quite revealing, leotard-style pieces that showed off your figure, but what I’d grown up doing was street style, so I wasn’t used to that more feminine way of presenting myself. I kept comparing myself to the people around me, like, “She’s got such long limbs, I envy her,” “We’re wearing the same outfit but I look so different.” So to my first-year self, I’d want to say, “Don’t compare yourself to others, believe in yourself and keep dancing your own way.”
What was the turning point that got you to that mindset?
The things I used to be hung up on were received by the audience in a positive way, like, “You’re petite and cute.” That new discovery, realizing that even that side of me could be embraced, turned into confidence.
You’re managed to venture out on your own at 16, but I imagine a lot of people feel that urge yet can’t find the courage. What would you say to someone who can’t take that first step?
Like I said, back when I was in Japan, I was always trying to find the right way and felt like I had to be like another person. But after coming here, I realized that’s not how it has to be. It’s OK to enjoy the expression you believe is truly yours. Every time I go back to Japan, kids from my hometown come up to me and say, “I want to be like you.” Taking that first step is really hard, but that step might be the thing that pushes someone else forward. It might give someone else courage. It’s something you should never forget.
Is there anyone who empowers you personally?
My mother. She loves Black music, and I initially got into dance because she took me to a dance studio. She’s a single mother and I’m the eldest of three sisters, but when I told her as a junior high schooler that I wasn’t going to high school, she simply said, “Oh, OK. No problem. I’ll support you.” She’s so tough. Nothing rattles her, and no matter what happens, she would always tell me, “Don’t worry, you can handle it.” That experience carries through to who I am today. My mother means more to me than anything.
Lastly, tell us about your dreams going forward.
My dream is to keep being an artist that people need specifically because I’m Sara Ito. I’d also love to become more of a presence that can give someone a dream, that can give someone a push forward. And I’d be even happier if that reached not just Japan, but the whole world. Without ever forgetting my gratitude for my family who have supported me, the people I’ve met, and the environments I’ve been part of, I want to be able to give back through dance.
—This interview by Rio Hirai first appeared on Billboard Japan

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