“It’s budget voting season, which means school boards are once again deciding what stays, what goes, and what gets labeled “nonessential.” Too often, theatre ends up on that list.”

A high school’s decision to postpone its spring show due to a student’s illness is compassionate and understandable. But it also raises a bigger question: why do so many school theatre programs still have no backup plan when a key performer cannot go on?

It is one thing to pick a show your program can realistically pull off. It is another to make auditions feel like a formality for everyone outside the usual favorites.

A theatre degree is one thing. Learning how to find work, sell yourself, and build a career is something else entirely.

After a controversy involving a high school production of Mary Poppins, bigger questions remain about favoritism in theatre and the lasting effect it can have on the performers left on the other side of it.

There is something so beautiful about high school seniors bringing their childhood stuffed animals to their final dress rehearsal. Their first audience showing up for one last show? Yeah. That’ll do it.

Now that audition season is winding down, I want to hear from students: which programs felt inclusive and rigorous in the best way, and which ones left you uneasy? You weren’t just auditioning for them. They were auditioning for you, too.

Didn’t get into that BFA program? I know it hurts. But that letter isn’t a prophecy, it’s just a decision from a tiny snapshot.

Super Bowl Sunday has me thinking about an underrated classic: Good News. Big ensemble energy, great score, and a perfect fit for high schools and colleges looking beyond the usual titles.

“Could” any theatre professional direct youth theatre? Yes, absolutely. However, “should” any theatre professional direct youth theatre? Absolutely not. We need people who care about coaching kids in that seat.”

Every few years, the same question comes back: should this show belong in high schools at all? A closer look at Rock of Ages: Youth Edition and what it says about how we decide what students are “ready” to perform.

Is it talent… or being the favorite? A sarcastic guide to high school theatre casting, and a real conversation about what students actually learn.

The excitement around “Wicked” is bigger than ever. Maybe this is the moment to start the conversation about school licensing and what it could unlock for the next generation of performers.

Showing up matters. For every kid, every parent, every school. But when concerts and performances happen during the workday, families can be left out.

If you have to pay just to audition for a college theatre program, that’s not opportunity—it’s exclusion disguised as tradition.

Our theatre classrooms are full of students who look like the world. But the faculty often don’t. If we want the future of the arts to be authentic and inclusive, that change has to start behind the table.

High school theatre isn’t sports. Competitions like the Jimmys can open doors for students, especially from smaller schools, but they can also distort the purpose of theatre and put schools in rivalry with one another.

From casting culture to alumni networks to the hidden realities of curriculum flexibility, I’ve rounded up 10 questions every aspiring theatre major should ask before applying.

“Before you even begin filling out applications or signing up for auditions, it is worth pausing to ask yourself why you want to major in theatre in the first place.”

If the freshman is the best fit for the role, cast the freshman. Theatre is not about seniority. It is about truth, talent, and telling the story well.