Everyone Is a Dancer
How Wylie ISD Belles Director Kaelin Winters Keeps the Music Playing
There’s a brief pause on stage, right before the backflip, when time seems to slow.
The lights press down. The crowd holds its breath. The music lingers for just a beat longer than expected. In that suspended moment between the count and the leap, Director Kaelin Winters knows this is about more than a move or a moment.
It’s about belief.
Winters has always believed that dance is not reserved for the trained or the fearless. And she believes it doesn’t have an expiration date. Dance doesn’t end when the curtain closes or when high school ends. It simply changes form.
Those beliefs carried Winters from the dance room at Wylie High School to the bright stage of Dancing With the Abilene Stars, where she partnered with Marcus Wiley and performed to “Mr. Electric Blue” by Benson Boone. They carried her through weeks of rehearsals, shared nerves, and one unforgettable backflip. And now, they shape everything the Wylie Belles are stepping toward next.
(Marcus Wiley and Belles Director Kaelin Winters)
A Life That Started in Motion
Winters doesn’t remember a version of life without dance.
She started dancing at two years old in Austin, where competition studios were plentiful and drill team was treated with the same reverence other towns reserved for football. At Leander High School, dance and band carried the culture. Friday nights weren’t just about the scoreboard. They were about precision, discipline, and performance.
By kindergarten, Winters already knew her goal. She wanted to be on the drill team. One day, she wanted to lead it.
She did both.
She danced competitively for ten years, became captain of her high school drill team, and grew up in a family that expected excellence. Surrounded by athletic cousins and brothers, all boys, she learned early that effort mattered and commitment was non-negotiable.
When her senior showcase ended, she thought dance had ended too. She cut her hair, closed the chapter, and told herself it was time to move on.
It took about a month to realize that wasn’t true.
“I missed it,” she said simply. “It was what I did every day.”
Dance, it turned out, wasn’t something you quit. It was something you carry.
Teaching, Faith, and Finding Wylie
(Winters with Belles)
Winters came to Abilene to attend ACU, pursuing Biblical Studies. Teaching dance began almost by accident. A summer class at the YMCA turned into studio work. Studio work turned into mentorship. Mentorship turned into a calling.
When a local studio closed after COVID, Winters once again thought dance might be over. She took a job baking. She considered moving to Washington, D.C. She nearly left Abilene behind.
Instead, she stayed. She pursued a Master of Divinity. She began working as a hospital chaplain. And slowly, dance found its way back.
Teaching again. Coaching again. Building something again.
When the Wylie Belles director position opened, it wasn’t a posting Winters was chasing. It came to her through students who already trusted her.
They told her she could do this.
They were right.
Now in her second year as director, Winters leads 33 dancers and four managers with a style shaped by her own experiences. High expectations, yes. But also empathy, flexibility, and a deep understanding of what it means to grow up in motion.
She knows dance is more than steps. It’s leadership training. It’s community. It’s consistency.
She also knows how often dancers believe the final curtain comes too soon.
Stepping Into the Spotlight
That belief is part of what drew Winters to Dancing With the Abilene Stars, an annual event supporting Hendrick Home for Children that pairs local community members with experienced dancers and former participants from the organization.
Winters had always loved the concept. Dance brought into the community. Dance without barriers. Dance that welcomed people who had never stepped into a studio before.
When she was invited to participate, she didn’t hesitate.
Her partner, Marcus Wiley, didn’t either. He’d danced at weddings. He had confidence. What he didn’t have was choreography.
“Choreographed dance is different,” Wiley admitted later. “After the first few practices, I thought I was in over my head.”
They chose “Mr. Electric Blue” by Benson Boone, a song known for its emotional build and Boone’s signature flips during live performances. Winters saw an opportunity.
“If we’re doing Benson Boone,” she told Wiley, “you’re doing a backflip.”
He laughed. Then he agreed.
That decision would shape the entire experience.
Trust, Timing, and the Backflip
(Kaelin Winters and Marcus Wiley prepare for the moment that would include Wiley’s signature backflip on stage.)
The backflip became a mental hurdle long before it became a physical one.
Practices were limited. Time was tight. Wiley was learning dance while Winters was learning how to teach an adult who didn’t speak the same movement language as her students.
They practiced in the Wylie dance room. They rehearsed in front of the Belles so Wiley could feel the energy of an audience. They talked through nerves, adrenaline, and what it means to be present in a moment you only get once.
“Everyone is nervous,” Winters said. “The best dancers just know where to put the energy.”
On the night of the performance, the dance floor was concrete. The stakes were real.
When Wiley landed the flip, the rest of the dance felt lighter.
“It was euphoric,” he said. “After that, everything just flowed.”
The audience felt it too. So did the other dancers watching from the wings. A longtime member of the Dancing With the Stars organization told them afterward he’d never seen a routine quite like it.
It wasn’t just the flip.
It was the trust.
Lessons That Travel Back to the Gym
Back at Wylie High School, the Belles saw something important.
They saw their coach step into uncertainty.
They saw discipline meet joy.
They saw dance not as an ending, but as a continuation.
“That’s what I hope they take away,” Winters said. “Dance doesn’t have to stop after high school.”
That message threads through everything the Belles are doing this spring.
On March 18, the Belles will perform at a Dallas Mavericks game, taking their work beyond campus and into a professional arena.
On March 28, they’ll host a Spring Mini Belles Camp, welcoming younger dancers and giving them a chance to perform in the Belles Showcase. It’s an invitation, not a test. A door opening instead of one closing.
Later in March, the team will travel to New York City, where they’ll take dance classes and see Broadway shows, not as tourists, but as students of the art.
Then, on April 24 and 25, the Wylie Belles will take the stage for their annual showcase, a culmination of a year built on growth rather than competition. This year is a travel year, giving them the space to tell a fuller story on stage.
Each event carries the same message Winters learned herself.
Dance evolves. It doesn’t disappear.
Everyone Is a Dancer
Winters says it often, sometimes jokingly, sometimes as a challenge.
Everyone is a dancer.
Not everyone is technically trained. Not everyone will step on stage. But movement is universal. Rhythm is human. Expression belongs to everyone.
That belief is why she loved Dancing With the Abilene Stars. It brought dance out of studios and into the community. It allowed someone like Marcus Wiley, who never considered himself a dancer, to discover that he was one all along.
And it’s why she loves coaching the Belles. Drill team builds something lasting. Friendships that turn into lifelong bonds. Traditions that carry forward. Confidence that doesn’t end at graduation.
Winters sees it in former teammates she’s stood beside at weddings. She sees it in students who return years later, still calling themselves dancers.
Dance didn’t end for her when she thought it had.
It just changed form.
And thanks to the work happening every day in the Wylie Belles room, it’s not ending for the next generation either.
Because the music keeps playing.
The body remembers.
And sometimes, all it takes is one brave step or one backflip to realize you’re still dancing.
It’s great to be a Wylie Bulldog.