Finding the Right Theater Group Can Do Wonders for You

Photo via Vida Bikales

Michelle López, Guest Editorial

What does it really take to do theatre?

When many of us first step onstage, we assume talent will carry us. We imagine a fairly smooth journey and believe that if we work hard enough, everything else will fall into place.

Then we discover how much depends on the people around us.

A supportive theatre company can help you take risks, recover from mistakes, and become a stronger artist. A toxic one can make you question whether you want to perform at all.

I have belonged to two theatre groups, and the experiences could not have been more different. Beyond anything I learned about acting, both taught me how strongly a company’s culture affects the work happening onstage.

I joined my first group in middle school, even though participation was normally limited to high school students. There were some wonderful opportunities. My school was fairly liberal, which allowed us to take on projects that other schools might have avoided.

Unfortunately, the environment backstage was often miserable.

Because the performers were between 14 and 18, parents were allowed to help behind the scenes. That sometimes created more problems than it solved. During our production of Cats, one parent refused to let me use an eyeliner because she had brought the makeup “only for her daughter.”

That small moment captured much of the atmosphere.

Cliques formed quickly. People complained about one another to the director. Certain performers were treated as though their success mattered more than the production. Even deciding who would perform on the first Saturday or closing night became a battle because those were considered the most desirable performances.

Instead of working toward the same goal, everyone seemed focused on protecting their own opportunities.

By the time I graduated, I was exhausted. Although my university offered a respected theatre program, I stayed away from theatre for three semesters because I needed time to recover from the experience.

When I finally auditioned for the university group, I was welcomed immediately.

It took time to believe that the environment was genuinely different. I was accustomed to looking for hidden competition or wondering when people would turn on one another. Instead, I found a company that cared about both the work and the people making it.

Words such as community and safe space can become meaningless when they are used too casually. In this company, they were real.

We supported one another’s goals, both in theatre and outside it. Some members eventually pursued additional degrees in theatre or other performing arts. Others followed entirely different careers while remaining connected to the company. Everyone brought different ambitions into the room, but the production itself came first.

That shared purpose made us stronger.

Finding a theatre group with a healthy dynamic can feel like finding a second home. Performing requires vulnerability. You are asked to take emotional and physical risks in front of people who will see you succeed, struggle, forget lines, miss cues, and occasionally make a complete fool of yourself.

That requires trust.

Theatre companies also spend an enormous amount of time together. We rehearse while tired, sweaty, frustrated, and overwhelmed. We help one another warm up. We argue about scenes, attempt uncomfortable improvisations, and work through moments that would feel deeply strange anywhere outside a rehearsal room.

People see parts of you that you usually try to hide.

That is one reason the company surrounding you matters so much. When you feel supported, you can take chances and fail without believing one mistake will be used against you. When the environment is hostile, that same vulnerability can become frightening.

Looking back, the biggest difference between my two groups was not talent. It was the reason people were there.

In my high school company, many people seemed primarily interested in being noticed. They wanted the best role, the most desirable performance date, or the chance to stand out from everyone else. That attitude damaged both the relationships backstage and the productions themselves.

My university company was devoted to making the work as strong as possible. Individual ambition still existed, of course, but it did not have to come at someone else’s expense.

That commitment also created better opportunities. We performed outside our usual theatre, brought productions to new audiences, and learned how to adapt our work to different spaces. Because the company was more grounded and focused, the results became more professional.

Not every theatre group will be the right fit.

Sometimes you will join a company and quickly realize that its values, leadership, or working style do not match what you need. That does not necessarily mean the group is terrible, but it may mean you will not do your best work there.

You are allowed to leave.

Actors are often told to be grateful for every opportunity, which can make walking away feel like failure. But staying in a harmful environment does not prove that you are committed to theatre. Sometimes the healthiest and most professional decision is to find another room.

The right company will not be perfect. People will still disagree. Rehearsals will become stressful, and personalities will occasionally clash.

The difference is that everyone remains committed to the same goal and treats one another with respect while pursuing it.

Talent matters. Training matters. Hard work matters.

But finding people you trust may be what allows all of those things to become visible.