To the students who didn’t get into a BFA program, this one’s for you
by Chris Peterson, OnStage Blog Founder
So you didn’t get into that BFA program. Maybe it was your dream school. Maybe it was five of them. Maybe you got waitlisted. Maybe you got nothing but rejections. Maybe you’re a performer, maybe you’re a designer, a director, a technician, a playwright. Doesn’t matter. You’re hurting. And I want to tell you, as clearly and honestly as I can, this is not the end of your story.
This industry loves to act like it’s an exclusive club. Like if you don’t get in through the front door with a fancy program name and a degree that sounds impressive, you’ll never make it onstage or backstage or anywhere worth going. But the truth? There are so many doors. And even more windows. And everyone I know who is actually doing this for a living has been told no. Usually more than once. Usually so many times they’ve lost count.
That rejection letter doesn’t define you. It doesn’t know your voice or your spark or how badly you want this. It doesn’t know the hours you’ve spent rehearsing, designing, planning, dreaming. And it definitely doesn’t get the final word.
You do.
So what now? You keep going. You pivot. You train. You find another way in. Here’s the part no one tells you. There’s more than one path to a theatre career. There always has been.
Go for a BA instead of a BFA. Plenty of artists find that broader academic freedom lets them study multiple interests, double major, or actually perform more than they might in a cutthroat BFA track. Consider a smaller school where you’ll be onstage right away. Or look into community colleges with strong performing arts programs and transfer later when you’ve built more experience.
Take outside classes. Voice, movement, Shakespeare, improv, design software—whatever you love, there’s a class for it. Many of the best teachers in the country don’t work at universities. They work at studios, in rehearsal rooms, in workshops, online. And they want to teach you.
Get involved in community theatre. Not as a backup plan, but as a proving ground. There are directors, designers, and actors getting serious reps in local theatres, making bold choices, collaborating across generations, and learning lessons you won’t find in any classroom.
Intern. Usher. Volunteer. Be a PA. Be on crew. Say yes. Just keep showing up. If you want to write, then write. If you want to direct, find a ten-minute play festival and go for it. If you want to act, audition for anything that excites you. If you want to design, offer to help on a student film or a local production. If you want to stage manage, I guarantee someone is looking for one right now. Just keep doing the work.
And when you do, you’ll learn this. You never needed a gatekeeper to say yes in the first place. You needed you to say yes.
You are not less than because a panel didn’t pick you. You are not unworthy because a program passed. And don’t let anyone tell you that a degree is the only way to make it. Some of the most powerful artists working today did not follow the traditional path. Some carved out their own, brick by brick.
You’re allowed to feel disappointed. Let yourself cry, grieve, rant, shut your laptop and walk away. But then, take a breath. Shake it off. And ask yourself the real question. Do I still want this?
If the answer is yes, then keep going. Relentlessly. This industry is hard. It’s unpredictable. But it still needs you. Not the polished version of you that auditioned for a panel. The real you. The one who loves this enough to fight for it.
You didn’t get into that program. And that stings. But it’s not the end.
It might just be the beginning of the artist you were always meant to become.