For most people, JaQuel Knight’s name will forever be linked to one of the most iconic moments in pop culture history. His work on the choreography for Beyoncé’s “Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It),” was sharp, elegant, and became instantly recognizable. This feat cemented his place in entertainment and reshaped what it means for a dancer to have cultural impact. But Knight’s rise didn’t end there. Since then, he’s gone on to choreograph performances for artists like Megan Thee Stallion, Cardi B, and Doja Cat. He also led creative direction for Beyoncé’s Homecoming and Renaissance eras, and built a global reputation for bringing Black culture to the forefront of mainstream entertainment.
Yet for all of his career achievements, Knight’s true focus today lies behind the scenes, fighting for the rights of the very creators who make these cultural moments possible. Through his advocacy for choreographer copyright protection, education, and ownership, Knight is building infrastructure where none existed before. He’s also ensuring that the Black women whose voices fuel the culture remain at the center of it.
JaQuel Knight Redefining the Role of the Choreographer
Raised in Atlanta, Knight began dancing in his teens, drawn to the music videos that dominated MTV and BET. By his early twenties, he had become one of the most in-demand choreographers in music. But success didn’t shield him from the realities of how the entertainment industry often treats creative labor, particularly Black creative labor. As dance became more visible in the digital era, Knight noticed how people were sharing, replicating, and monetizing choreographers’ work without acknowledgment or compensation.
“Everything’s a visual now,” he said to 21Ninety at the Red Bull Dance Your Style World Finals. “If we don’t start protecting our art, it will be taken from us.”
In 2020, Knight made history by becoming one of the first commercial choreographers to copyright his work, beginning with the “Single Ladies” routine. The move sparked a larger conversation across creative industries about ownership and authorship. That was especially true for Black artists whose cultural contributions have long been exploited without credit. He later launched Knight Choreography and Music Publishing Inc. The company helps dancers and choreographers protect their intellectual property. His work aims to reframe choreography as an asset, not just dance moves.
That same year, amid the pandemic’s devastating effect on live performance, Knight established the JaQuel Knight Foundation, initially as a relief fund for out-of-work dancers. The foundation raised more than $250,000 to support artists in need and has since evolved into a long-term advocacy organization. Its next phase includes an educational database offering contract resources, copyright guidance, and training programs for young dancers from K–12 to pre-professional levels.
“There’s no other Black commercial choreographer right now, who has copywritten a work,” he explained. “When you go to the trademark offices, there’s no one who looks like us. So for me it was all about either we start creating the history now, or we will be erased.”
Centering Black Women in the Story of Movement
While Knight’s work in creator rights is transforming the business side of dance, his artistic approach continues to uplift the emotional and cultural side, particularly his deep respect for Black women. Having collaborated with some of the most influential Black women in music, from Beyoncé to Megan Thee Stallion, Knight views his work as a dialogue with their voices, not just their visuals. His process, he says, begins with understanding who these artists are as people, as women, and as cultural leaders.
“I work with some of the strongest, most powerful women,” he shared. “So for me it’s about relating with them as people, as artists, understanding their voice, and how that rings among women. Often I walk into rooms and they come up and say ‘JaQuel, because of your choreography, it makes me feel powerful, it makes me feel sexy, makes me feel like I’m enough.’”
That commitment to authenticity is what gives Knight’s choreography its resonance. The movements transcend dance and land into identity. His routines showcase Black women’s power, confidence, and complexity in ways that feel both aspirational and deeply human.
“Black women are superheroes,” Knight reflected, referencing his upbringing surrounded by strong women. “To be able to show up and show out every time, to be stronger than everyone in the room. That’s the essence of who they are.”
For Knight, celebrating that essence is about preservation. Without the presence and leadership of Black women, he argues, there would be no modern pop culture as we know it.
“Without the Black woman, there would be no style, no culture, no fashion,” he said. “They are the foundation of it all.”
That understanding underscores every project Knight takes on, whether it’s an artist collaboration or a philanthropic initiative. His advocacy for creative ownership and his reverence for the Black women who inspire him are intertwined. Both are rooted in the idea that culture thrives when its creators are valued, protected, and seen.