In the hallowed pages of TIME magazine’s annual pantheon, where titans of tech rub shoulders with visionaries of verse, Alfonso Ribeiro’s name gleamed like a perfectly executed Carlton—effortless, endearing, and utterly unforgettable. Announced on April 16, 2025, as part of the TIME100 Most Influential People of the Year, Ribeiro’s inclusion wasn’t just a nod to his four-decade strut across stages and screens; it was a coronation of the man who’s turned rhythm into revelation. At 53, the former Fresh Prince sidekick, Dancing with the Stars maestro, and now primetime sage has long been a fixture of American pop culture. But this honor? It’s the tribute that cracked the internet wide open, with fans from TikTok teens to Boomer loyalists flooding X with memes of his iconic dance, captioned “Carlton just went global icon.”

The reveal landed amid the 2025 list’s eclectic assembly—Mark Zuckerberg’s algorithmic empire-building alongside Yoshiki’s symphonic rock reinvention, Serena Williams’ courtside comebacks, and Snoop Dogg’s hazy wisdom drops. TIME Editor in Chief Sam Jacobs penned the foreword with poetic precision: “Focusing on the individuals who are transforming the world is the best way to help readers understand it.” And in Ribeiro’s profile, penned by none other than Tyler Perry—the mogul who knows a thing or two about blending laughs with life lessons—the words cascaded like a freestyle flourish: “Alfonso Ribeiro is a transformative artist whose influence stretches far beyond the studio and stage and into the hearts of people around the world.” Breathtaking? Understatement. It’s the kind of acclaim that elevates a performer from beloved to bedrock, a man whose every shimmy has whispered, “Joy isn’t optional; it’s essential.”

Flash back to 1983: A 12-year-old Alfonso bursts onto Broadway in The Tap Dance Kid, channeling Gregory Hines’ footwork into a Tony-nominated blaze that announced him as prodigy. By 1990, he’s Carlton Banks, the preppy foil to Will Smith’s streetwise swagger on The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, birthing “The Carlton”—that goofy, arms-akimbo jig to “It’s Not Unusual”—a dance so viral it spawned Halloween costumes, SNL skits, and a 2023 TikTok challenge that racked 2 billion views. “I was just goofing off,” Ribeiro later reflected in a 2024 Variety sit-down, his Brooklyn-born baritone laced with humility. “But kids saw themselves in that awkward joy—the kid dancing alone in his room, uncaring who watches.” That authenticity? It’s Ribeiro’s secret sauce, turning a punchline into a universal hug.

Fast-forward through the ’90s and 2000s: Guest spots on In the House (where he directed episodes that honed his behind-the-camera eye), voice work as the rapping hyena in The Lion King 2, and a pivot to game-show glory with Catch 21. But it was 2014’s Dancing with the Stars that ignited his renaissance. Teaming with pro Witney Carson, Ribeiro didn’t just win the Mirrorball Trophy; he redefined it. Their freestyle to “Happy” was a masterclass in metamorphosis—tears mid-twirl as he honored his late father, Albert, a Trinidadian jazz musician whose trumpet once filled their Queens home. “Dance saved me,” he told People post-win. “It was therapy when words failed.” By 2025, as DWTS host alongside Julianne Hough, Ribeiro’s warmth has ballooned the show’s audience to 10 million weekly, blending nostalgia with fresh fire—think Robert Irwin’s croc-wrestle samba or Alix Earle’s TikTok tango that trended for weeks.

TIME’s tribute doesn’t stop at the highlight reel; it dives into the depth. Perry’s essay lauds Ribeiro’s “exceptional gift for turning emotion into performance and connection,” spotlighting his post-DWTS pivot to mentorship. Through the Alfonso Ribeiro Foundation, launched in 2020, he’s funneled millions into arts education for underprivileged youth in LA and Brooklyn, partnering with Boys & Girls Clubs to offer free dance and theater camps. “In an industry that chews up dreamers,” Perry writes, “Alfonso builds ladders.” Ribeiro’s openness about his 2015 rehab stint for alcohol dependency, shared raw on his Who Is Alfonso Ribeiro? podcast, has destigmatized mental health for Black men in Hollywood. “Sincerity isn’t a risk; it’s a revolution,” he quipped at the 2025 NAACP Image Awards, where he snagged Entertainer of the Year. Fans ate it up—#RibeiroReal trended for days, with testimonials from mentees like a 16-year-old from Compton who credited his camp with her Juilliard audition.

What elevates this beyond accolades? Ribeiro’s grounded grace in a fame factory that favors flash. Married to actress Angela Gibbs since 2012 (his third go, post-divorces that taught him “love’s a cha-cha—step together or stumble”), he’s dad to four—Sienna, a budding violinist; Ava and Anders, his twins with Gibbs; and stepson Daniel—instilling “dance like no one’s judging” at family barbecues. His 2024 memoir, The Carlton Chronicles: A Life in Steps, hit NYT bestseller lists, weaving Fresh Prince anecdotes with lessons on resilience: “Carlton wasn’t weak; he was willing to feel.” TIME captures this alchemy: “How does one man turn comedy, dance, and hosting into a universal language, inspire millions through authenticity, and remain grounded, warm, and fiercely genuine?” The answer, per the mag? By being the friend who pulls you onto the floor when doubt dims the lights.

The buzz post-announcement was seismic. At the TIME100 Gala on April 24—Snoop Dogg hosting, Ed Sheeran crooning—Ribeiro’s speech went viral: “Influence? It’s not followers; it’s the kid in Kansas who dances away his blues because he saw me do it first.” X lit up with 5 million impressions in hours, from Will Smith’s “That’s my brother—always stealing the show with heart” to Zendaya’s “Uncle Alf, you taught us all to move with purpose.” Even skeptics melted; a Vulture recap called it “the feel-good entry in a list heavy on moguls.” As DWTS Season 34 wrapped with his mirrorball handoff to Robert Irwin, Ribeiro’s influence looped back—Irwin citing him as “the host who made me believe in second acts.”

In a 2025 rife with AI upheavals and cultural churn, Ribeiro’s honor feels like a balm: proof that true power pulses from vulnerability, not virality. He’s the entertainer who reminds us entertainment can heal—bridging Broadway’s footlights to TikTok’s feeds, Carlton’s quirks to global quests for joy. As Perry concludes, “Alfonso doesn’t just perform; he performs us—all our awkward, alive, unstoppable selves.” Breathtaking, indeed. And as Ribeiro might say, mid-jig: The dance floor’s open. Who’s joining?