business

Tessa Pfeifer, a 5-foot-1, 110-pound package of kinetic energy, began her entrepreneurial hustlings fresh out of high school, a few months before her 18th birthday.

She's the founder and CEO of Dancercise Kids, a Minnetonka company that grossed $320,000 last year with dance and exercise programs offered to youngsters 2 to 8 years old -- but with an uncommonly creative twist.

The Dancercise kids bounce and bop to choreography that Pfeifer developed and to music and lyrics that she and her husband, Simon Wiltshire, wrote to engage children's imaginations and hold their attention while also teaching them a variety of "life lessons" as they exercise.

We're talking a curriculum that ranges from nutrition and healthful habits to communication and teamwork to manners and kindness, not to mention lessons on sign language, the people and animals of the world and a wide array of occupations the kids might pursue when they grow up.

It's all wrapped around more than 130 engaging, funny, even silly songs designed to capture children's interest, even as they're being reminded about the importance of obeying Mom, keeping the bedroom neat and eating right.

"The key is, they're having so much fun singing our songs and dancing our steps, they don't have a chance to get bored, and they never even realize how much great stuff they're learning," said Pfeifer, 40. "You quickly lose a kid's attention with a conventional, repetitive approach."

Consider a sampling of the musical portfolio:

In a health-and-fitness segment of the curriculum, the songs include "Happy Heart," "Mouse With an Appetite" and "I Don't Want to Go to Bed."

In the "Spotlight on Imagination" section, there's "Echo My Gecko," where various sounds are imitated with voice, hands or feet, and "Scarecrow Stretch," designed with a special dance step to work the triceps muscles.

Then there's "Circus Star" and "Rawhide Ranch," which highlight favorite "when-I-grow-up" occupations, and "Let's Sign the ABCs," which teaches sign language as part of a communications segment.

Franchise strategy

And parents are delighted.

"It's great practice for life skills like listening to directions, being part of a group, trying, building confidence, being in front of an audience and better control of body movement," said Sarah Way, a Chanhassen mother of two preschool girls. "It's a music, health and fitness, sign language, performance and dance class all in one."

Judy Madera, director of the Koala Bear Child Care center in Spring Park, called Dancercise "a fun way to learn" with its "clever songs and dance movements that are created through strong lesson plans."

The music and lessons are a collaboration between Pfeifer and Wiltshire, who manages the business side of the company. They met when he played bass and she sang for a local rock band.

Their partnership has flourished with a clientele that includes elementary schools, fitness centers and community education programs, as well as day care centers.

Now Pfeifer and Wiltshire aim to expand beyond Minnesota by licensing the Dancercise curriculum, music and choreography, which have been packaged on CDs and DVDs and are being promoted on Google and three dance-specific websites. The first step came last fall, when they sold a Chicago division and signed the woman who ran it for them as their first licensee.

Because that operation generated about 40 percent of total revenue, the transaction combined with the recession cut revenues by 18 percent in 2008 and is expected to slash them another 30 percent this year, Wiltshire said.

He views that revenue loss as an investment in a strategy that offers lower costs, higher margins and significant growth potential, given the thousands of dance studios nationwide. He called the Chicago franchise "a model for the new business," which already has licensees in Ohio, Mississippi and Malaysia.

All of which is downright impressive, particularly considering that Dancercise was not Pfeifer's first entrepreneurial choice. Instead, she was intent on building a business she called Character Crew, which provided costumed superheroes, ballerinas, princesses and clowns to do tricks, play games and tell stories at birthday parties and corporate events.

So when she was taking dancing lessons at a Minneapolis studio and was recommended to a local day care center seeking someone to teach a dance class, she took the job mainly to raise money for Character Crew costumes.

But when she figured she'd saved enough and tried to quit the day care job, the director would have none of it. Instead, she insisted Pfeifer meet with executives of the chain that owned the day care center. Result: Directors of 15 of the chain's centers signed her up to run dance classes.

She was in business.

Actually, two businesses, because she clung to the Character Crew operation until 1998, when she reluctantly sold it to a competitor because Dancercise had grown too large for her to handle both operations. She had a simple explanation for the decision to keep Character Crew for so long.

"Hey, if you get paid to dress up and have fun with a bunch of kids, it's hard to turn it down," she said. "Very hard."

Dick Youngblood • 612-673-4439 • yblood@startribune.com