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Lara Spencer’s ‘Hobby-Shaming’ Backlash Is Peak White Woman Tears, And I’m Here For It

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Lara Spencer’s ‘Hobby-Shaming’ Backlash Is Peak White Woman Tears, And I’m Here For It

Lara Spencer’s ‘Hobby-Shaming’ Backlash Is Peak White Woman Tears, And I’m Here For It

Look, I get it. We’re all just trying to survive the dumpster fire that is 2025. Gas prices are a joke, the housing market is a fever dream, and the only thing growing faster than my credit card debt is my existential dread. So when Lara Spencer, the co-anchor of *Good Morning America*—that beacon of morning news that somehow makes a hostage crisis look boring—decided to throw shade at a 10-year-old boy for enjoying ballet, I thought, “Finally, a villain I can actually laugh at.”

But apparently, the universe decided that Lara Spencer needed a redemption arc. And not like a good one, like a “I learned my lesson and now I’m donating to the arts” kind of redemption. No, she went full “White Woman Tears” mode, crying on national television about how she was “attacked” by the internet. Because nothing screams “I’m sorry for being a garbage human” like sobbing into a microphone while your co-host pats your back like you’re the real victim here.

Let’s rewind, because this is peak AITA energy, and I need to make sure we’re all on the same page.

Last week, Lara Spencer was doing a segment on *GMA* about Prince George’s school curriculum. You know, the future King of England, a literal 10-year-old child who probably already has better posture than most of us. She got to the part where they listed his classes, which include ballet, and she cracked a joke. It wasn’t even a clever joke. It was the kind of joke a drunk uncle makes at Thanksgiving when he’s already three beers in and can’t figure out why no one laughs. She said, "Prince George will be studying ballet, among other things. I have news for you, Prince George, we’ll see how long that lasts."

She then proceeded to do a little smirk and a shoulder shrug, like she was sharing a secret with the audience about how *hilarious* it is that a little boy wants to dance. The internet, being the feral beast it is, did what it does best: it pounced. Within hours, the #LaraSpencer hashtag was trending, and not in a “great job, girl” way. Professional dancers, parents of boys in ballet, and even random dudes who just hate bullies were roasting her. Kevin Bacon threw shade. The American Ballet Theatre tweeted about how ballet is for everyone. It was beautiful chaos.

Now, here’s where it gets spicy. Lara Spencer took a few days off, presumably to “reflect” and “listen” (read: hire a crisis PR team). She came back to the show yesterday, and instead of, you know, just saying, “My bad, I was being a dick, boys can dance,” she decided to make it all about her. She teared up, apologized to the viewers, and said she felt “attacked” and “bullied.” She literally said, "I am a mom of two boys, and I know that every child is different. I should have been more sensitive. But I also know that the bullying that I experienced online was not okay."

Hold the phone. You, a multi-millionaire TV personality with a platform that reaches millions, are comparing the backlash from a tasteless joke to the actual bullying that kids face? You, who literally mocked a child for his hobby on live TV, are now crying about how the mean tweets hurt your feelings? Get the entire hell out of here.

This is the classic “When the bully becomes the victim” playbook. It’s the same energy as a Karen getting caught on camera and then saying, “I feel unsafe.” You didn’t feel “attacked,” Lara. You felt *accountable*. And apparently, for the first time in your cushy life, someone told you that your “joke” was trash. That’s not bullying. That’s consequences.

Let’s talk about the actual problem here: the toxic masculinity that Lara Spencer’s joke was feeding into. We live in a country where boys are still told that dancing is “girly” or “gay” (as if either of those are insults, but that’s a different rant). We have dads who won’t let their sons play with dolls, coaches who tell boys not to cry, and entire school systems that punish boys for being “too emotional.” And here comes Lara Spencer, on a national morning show, reinforcing the idea that a 10-year-old boy’s interest in ballet is something to laugh at. What’s next? Are we gonna shame him for liking the color pink? Maybe he’ll get a doll for his birthday and the entire *GMA* crew can do a segment on how “cute” it is that he’s “confused.”

The worst part? The apology was performative. She didn’t actually address why the joke was wrong. She didn’t talk about the thousands of boys who are now afraid to tell their parents they want to take ballet because some lady on TV made it sound pathetic. She just cried about how the internet is mean. Because, you know, the internet is the real villain here. Not the multi-million dollar network that aired the segment, wrote the script, and approved the laugh track. No, it’s the anonymous user who quoted her and said “Boo.” That’s the real threat to society.

And now, everyone on social media is falling for it. I’ve already seen the “Leave Lara alone” comments. “She apologized, move on.” “She’s just a human being.” Cool. So we’re just forgiving anyone who cries now? If I rob a bank and then cry on the news, do I get a free pass? I’ll take that as a no. The standard for public figures should be higher, not lower. She made a living off of being relatable and funny. She failed the assignment. Own it. Don’t play the victim card.

The irony here is so thick you could cut it with a ballet

Final Thoughts


Having covered the often-glamorized world of celebrity journalism, it’s refreshing to see Lara Spencer leverage her platform not just for fluff, but for genuine, grounded business acumen. Her pivot from "Good Morning America" host to a voice on real estate and entrepreneurship underscores a hard truth: the most durable careers are built on authentic expertise, not just camera presence. Ultimately, Spencer’s trajectory serves as a masterclass in reinvention—proving that the sharpest journalists know exactly when to stop reading the teleprompter and start writing their own next chapter.