31 May Why You Can Major in Dance and Go to Medical School

In conversations about college planning, few misconceptions run deeper than the belief that students who aspire to medical school must major in biology. In my college consulting practice, I try to impart a different message: the path to becoming a doctor is not linear. Too often, families assume it begins in high school with science research, continues into a biology major, and culminates in medical school. This “biology or bust” mindset can be limiting—and, worse, it misrepresents what higher education and professional preparation are actually about.

Over the past year, I have attended several webinars with Lewis Newman, spoken with him at conferences, and read his book, Thinking Critically in College. His insights reinforce what I emphasize with students and families: education is not simply about amassing content. It is about developing ways of thinking. Newman’s framework for critical thinking—context, comparison, evidence, and implications—offers a powerful lens for understanding why students can, in fact, major in dance (or any number of fields) and still be outstanding candidates for medical school.

Education Beyond Content

Newman reminds us that while content knowledge is necessary, it is not sufficient. The deeper goal of a college education is to cultivate skills of inquiry and judgment that endure well beyond the classroom. These habits of mind are transferable: they can be practiced whether a student is analyzing a poem, designing an experiment, or rehearsing choreography. And in medicine especially, where decisions affect lives, the ability to evaluate evidence, weigh implications, and situate information in context matters just as much as mastering the science.

From High School to College: A Shift in Purpose

The difference between high school and college is not simply one of workload but of purpose. High school often rewards students for memorizing information and following established steps. College demands something more: framing questions, challenging assumptions, and connecting knowledge across disciplines.

This is why many students are surprised when strategies that earned them top grades in high school don’t automatically translate into success in college. The promise of college lies in its ability to help students learn how to think in ways that are adaptable and enduring. These skills—so central to Newman’s framework—prepare students for every career path, medicine included.

Why a Dance Major Can Work

Understanding this shift helps explain why medical schools do not require students to major in biology. A student who studies dance develops an intimate understanding of the body as well as discipline and creativity. If that same student also completes the necessary pre-medical science courses, they bring both content knowledge and a broader intellectual toolkit.

The same is true for students in the humanities or social sciences. A history major might excel at situating medical challenges within cultural contexts. A philosophy major sharpens ethical reasoning. An English major learns to interpret narratives—an invaluable skill in patient care. All of these perspectives enrich the medical profession.

Colleges themselves increasingly promote this flexibility. Amherst and Rice, for example, encourage pre-med students to pair the required science courses with any major that excites them, knowing that broad intellectual preparation produces thoughtful, well-rounded applicants. A vivid example is Dr. Jay Wellons, now a distinguished pediatric neurosurgeon at Vanderbilt, who majored in English before going on to medical school. His background in literature later shaped the way he communicates with patients and families.

Moving Beyond the “One Path” Mentality

Yet in high schools, the message students often hear is narrower: future doctors should be on the science research track. While research can be valuable, it is not the only way to demonstrate intellectual engagement or readiness for medical school. Students can develop critical thinking through music, debate, activism, or independent inquiry—any activity that sharpens their ability to question, compare, and interpret evidence.

This is why I push back when families tell me their child must do science research or major in biology. Such assumptions risk reducing education to a purely instrumental path. Newman cautions against this view, urging us not to think of college as a “plane ticket”—a single-use item that takes you directly to one place and is then discarded. Instead, he likens it to a “passport”—a renewable document that enables new journeys, new discoveries, and continued growth.

When families frame college this way, students feel freer to pursue their authentic interests while still preparing responsibly for the future. The dancer who majors in her art, the political scientist who studies health policy, or the anthropologist who explores human cultures—all can arrive at medical school with distinctive experiences that make them stronger candidates.

What I Try to Impart in My Practice

In my work with students, I encourage them to pursue the subjects that spark their curiosity while completing the courses required for medical school if that is their goal. A student who immerses themselves deeply in another discipline while also building a scientific foundation may, in fact, be better prepared—because they bring to medicine not only knowledge but also perspective, creativity, and empathy.

The Big Picture

Lewis Newman’s insights serve as a reminder that college is not just preparation for a single career but an opportunity to become a thinker, a learner, and a citizen. His framework of context, comparison, evidence, and implications gives students a durable compass for navigating both academic and professional challenges.

So yes, you can major in dance and go to medical school. More than that: you can major in what excites you, so long as you also prepare responsibly for your professional goals. By doing so, you may arrive at those goals with a broader perspective, a deeper well of creativity, and a stronger foundation in the skills that matter most—not just for admissions, but for life.