I was so lucky. When I told my grandparents I was pursuing a career in theatre, they were delighted and supportive. Theatre had always been a part of our lives, a shared passion. While many families balk at a “frivolous” career in the arts, mine couldn’t have been more proud. They lauded it as a wise decision. They told me is that theatre is essential and that theatre survives.
They supported me when it meant not being able to go home for holidays or family occasions. They supported me when it meant I moved cross country for an amazing opportunity. They supported me when it meant odd hour phone calls. They supported me because they knew theatre is essential.
It was even a requested part of my conversations with them when I visited the hospitals, sitting by their beds for the last time. Theatre was a comfort and essential entertainment to them, even when it was second-hand, behind-the-scenes stories.
I have thought about them so much these last few weeks: how shocked they would be at the devastation in the world and in my beloved theatre community. I’ve faced how hard it has been to not be able to talk to them about the uncertainty in our industry, one I’ve been fortunate to call both career and home for over 20 years. An industry that will be struggling to recover and may lose some of its best and brightest organizations and staff simply because when there are bills to pay, dreams are deferred. I’ve wondered what they would say to me to give me hope, to share with my theatre family. I think they would remind me of why they were so excited when I announced my decision many years ago. Through cultural and religious upheaval. Through failing economies. Through every political swing and against every odd: theatre is essential and theatre survives.