If you know me, you know that from the ages of six to 17, I was involved —and in love— with musical theatre. And if you know me, you also know that ever since the pandemic happened, I haven’t gone back to it.
When I was younger, I spent two to three days a week in classes and rehearsals singing, dancing, and acting with people I knew felt the same way. In those moments, nothing outside of that space mattered; I was just there to enjoy my time and express myself, knowing that I wouldn’t be judged for being myself.
Unfortunately, outside of those spaces, this kind of judgment was super common.
The Label
Over the years, from elementary school and high school to social media, I’ve noticed that “theatre kid” has become a popular and hard-defining label — but not a good one.
As a lover of theatre, and singing in general, my passion trickled into many areas of my life. Whether through school talent shows, productions, or conversations with my peers, I often found ways to discuss my interests. Like other kids, I was proud of what I liked and proud to show it off. Yet unlike my friends, my passions were often belittled or dismissed.
The term theatre kid, as I have come to know it, has been associated with terms like annoying, obsessive, and weird. When other kids my age would get praised for their dedication to sports or academics, I would often get shamed for the deemed cringe of my arts-related endeavours. When other kids would be given the chance to show off their talents, I was usually told that I was being too loud, too excited, or almost always, too passionate.
Now, I’m not saying that people didn’t support me or that I wasn’t allowed to pursue my interests, I just felt like I wasn’t allowed to celebrate them. Despite making up a large part of my personality, I never thought I could share that side outside the theatre community. If I did, I was afraid I would be known as the weird, loud and overbearing theatre kid.
So, when I say that I haven’t done theatre since the COVID-19 pandemic, it’s not just because many theatre companies had to go into lockdown — it’s because I was afraid of being associated with the label in university.
With the fresh start that university promised and provided, I thought I could reinvent myself. If I avoided showing my new peers the Broadway-obsessed side of myself, I might finally be praised for and encouraged to follow my passions. In reality, I was lying to myself.
While the judgement I faced when I was younger caused me no physical harm, it still turned me away from being proud of who I was. It took me away from where I felt safest, removing the ability for me to work through some of my most difficult experiences.
Many people don’t see or understand that theatre has always been more than just a pastime for me — for most of us.
The Truth
Whether you choose to believe it or not, theatre is more than just entitled actors fighting for roles, intimidating audition panels, and “annoying” outbursts of dramatic singing and dancing.
From my first time in an acting class to leading younger kids in musical theatre and watching friends discover it in recent years, time and time again, I watch as people find comfort and relief in the art form.
The theatre community has always been a safe space where individuals thrive off the ability to express themselves in a judgment-free zone. Whether it’s members of the 2SLGBTQIA+ community, youth who may be struggling in other areas of their lives, or just people looking for an outlet to release their emotions, theatre is a conduit of both safety and joy.
Therefore, when people call us theatre kids, we should be grateful for the acknowledgment that we are lucky enough to exist in these spaces, which allow us to relieve our worries while simultaneously having fun.
On top of this, participating in theatre means dedicating our time to more than just helping ourselves. When we rehearse for and put on a show for audiences, we provide spaces where others can momentarily escape from the rest of the world and (to unintentionally quote Cabaret) leave their troubles behind. This way, we should be thankful that our dedication, talent, and passion for something greater than ourselves are acknowledged.
As actors, singers, and dancers, we can foster connections between art and audiences and help tell stories that may not always be at the forefront of mainstream media. Therefore, when people deem us theatre kids, we should be ecstatic that they know we have an outlet through which we can preserve history while also demanding change.
Being labelled a theatre kid isn’t as negative as some people may think. Theatre kid is a label that anyone should consider themselves lucky enough to have. Thankfully, during these past few years, I’ve accepted this as the (only) truth.
“From Now On”
I need to clarify that just because I didn’t participate in theatre for years doesn’t mean I didn’t — and don’t — still love it.
Aside from setbacks like COVID-19 lockdowns, distance, and busy school schedules, I still happily engage with and consume as much theatre as possible. I still spend most of my time listening to musical soundtracks, trying to learn the “Cell Block Tango” choreography, attending Mirvish shows, and begging everyone I know to take me to New York to see Broadway (no, seriously, somebody… anybody, take me).
During all this time, I learned — or better yet, accepted —something I think many people still need to hear.
From countless hours watching “slime tutorials” on YouTube (iykyk) to watching musical movies like Wicked, La La Land, and Tick, Tick…Boom! kill it at the box office, I’ve accepted that the “theatre kid” label isn’t as bad as people make it out to be.
It’s something I’ve always known but I never let myself believe because outside opinions often overshadowed my thoughts.
It wasn’t until this year, when I finally got into the musical theatre course at Toronto Metropolitan University, (my final course ever, might I add), that I realized being a theatre kid is one of the best parts of me. It took me all of five minutes in that class to understand that being part of a theatre community is essential to my well-being and that being in these spaces is where I’m happiest.
Did I step into that room and immediately connect with the people around me, even though all we did was sing and dance? Yes, I did, and I consider myself lucky that I can.
Nowadays, seeing Wicked break the box office and watching musical theatre song after musical theatre song trend on TikTok makes me laugh at the people who used to make fun of me. In fact, it makes me laugh at the people who still make fun of us.
It’s getting old watching everyone try to create fake drama about the Wicked set because Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande are crying in every other interview. Something happened on set, you say? You’re right; lots of things did. Community is what happened. Bonding with people who share your passions is what happened. A safe space to express your emotions is what happened. Dedicating yourself to countless hours of singing, dancing, and acting is what happened. And two theatre kids getting to portray dream roles happened.
If all of this has taught me anything, it’s that from here on out, theatre kid is a label I refuse to be ashamed of. It’s a defining title we should all be proud of receiving, even if we sometimes feel otherwise.
So yes, if being a theatre kid means constantly surrounding myself with a fantastic community, having a healthy outlet to express myself, being passionate about my interests, and having the talent to show for it, then so be it.