How a Mesa Dance Studio Grew From One Room Into A Queer Creative Hub

When Leah and RaeRae Bancod-Roman first began teaching dance out of a small room inside a ballet studio, they were among their only students.

In the early days of their studio, the two Filipina women were determined to follow their dream of running a dance space of their own — even if it meant working full time elsewhere until the studio gained traction.

Along the way, they fell in love.

This September marked 15 years of The Jukebox Grounds, a Mesa dance studio known for its high-energy classes and what RaeRae describes as a “tangible, lovey-dovey” atmosphere.

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When the two began dating just months after launching The Jukebox, Leah initially kept their relationship private, worried it could affect how their families and students viewed them.

“I come from a Catholic and conservative family, so being able to come out and be proud of who I am definitely took some time,” Leah said.

“It was hard to hide it,” she said. “If you love somebody, people are going to feel it. You can hide the label, but we couldn’t hide how we felt toward each other — especially at The Jukebox, because that’s where we felt most comfortable.”

For a long time, they told no one. The couple grew close with families at the studio, but when asked whether they were together, Leah said she would deny it.

That changed during a dinner with the parents of the studio’s kids crew.

“I forget how it came up, but I said that we were together,” Leah said. “His name was Grant, and he was like, ‘I knew it!’”

Rather than rejection, the couple was met with enthusiasm — a response that challenged Leah’s fears.

“I had all these thoughts and fears in my head that people were going to judge us or not want to be at the studio anymore,” she said. “But the way they completely accepted it and were excited and happy we finally said it — that made me know I could share it with the rest of our community.”

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Not hiding who they were opened new creative doors for the studio.

“It trickled down to the dancing itself — being braver, more confident and unapologetic,” RaeRae said. “It translated into the art we created and the stories we told.”

Before committing fully to their dream, Leah and RaeRae once debated whether to pursue stable careers or take a leap of faith.

A T-Mobile advertisement helped tip the scales.

“Do what you love,” it read.

Shortly afterward, RaeRae found an online listing for a dance studio director. They applied and won over the hiring manager with persistence. Leah, who had dreamed of opening a dance studio since age 13, saw it as a sign.

“We were like, ‘This is it. Let’s go all in,’” Leah said. “There is no plan B.”

The Jukebox began as a single rented room. With few students at first, the couple worked extra jobs — from telemarketing to canvassing — to keep the studio afloat.

Over time, enrollment grew, fueled by community support. They became involved in local dance events, built industry relationships and supported fellow dancers. Eventually, they expanded into a dojo twice the size of their original space.

The move came with a name change — from The Jukebox to The Jukebox Grounds — reflecting a new foundation.

“The more we grew into bigger spaces, the more we let other people share in that dream,” RaeRae said. “The Jukebox became a collective of what we wanted to build as a community.”

Today, The Jukebox Grounds offers a wide range of hip-hop styles, houses a recording booth and serves as a creative hub for local artists.

Reflecting their own journey, Leah and RaeRae envision the studio as a place where creatives can “be exactly who they are and know they’re supported.”