Navigating the Nuance of Safe Practices for Young Artists

When enrolling in graduate school I intended to focus upon creating opportunities for the young to not only participate in the consumption of and performance of theatre, but also the technical creation of theatre. While still an area of priority in my artistry as a technical theatre educator studying applied drama and theatre for young, my focus was diverted by important conversations happening in our industry—important conversations which personal experience made a priority for me.

When allowing teens to operate a full scenic shop complete with a variety of saws and power tools, safety becomes of utmost importance. That mental focus, combined with a worldview shaped by my nurse parents, has led to me to examine safety not only from external physical forces, but also the emotional safety of workers, and in our field, most especially the young actor who is coached to break down boundaries and make themselves vulnerable.

As such I centered my research project on a case studying examining various abuses in theatre, with a long-term goal of becoming an intimacy coach, and facilitating round table talks about protecting our youth in theatre. For myself, I know that if my family had any idea just how gratuitous the culture of theatre was, even in my high school, I would have been forced to quit the theatre program. Their instinct to protect me left me alone, struggling to balance an art I loved, with a culture I intuitively knew might not be appropriate. I listened to my theatrical mentors wanting to trust their guidance but with a nagging hesitation of doubt.

Was it necessary for a 14-year girl to kiss the teen stage manager as soon as she walked into a close audition to prove she would not be “squeamish” about stage romance in “Arsenic and Old Lace”? Before I could even deliver my monologue, this is the request I received. What did that dynamic suggest to my young self I should do, should be, to be a part of this thing we call theatre? What did it suggest my talent was worth next to my willingness to do as I was told? This is a mild anecdote of what I have witnessed in theatre programs for youth. It is far from an isolated dynamic from what I have seen.

Now as a director and educator working with youth, I find myself exploring these dynamics not as the inexperienced youth I once was, but as the leader with a burden of responsibility to my students. And I cannot say I see much change from my own youthful experience, nor that it was remotely uncommon.

The precedents we set at school, or in community theatre will inform young peoples’ understanding of what to expect and tolerate in future theatrical experience, and likely shape how they will interact with future generations of theatre artists.

And this is the crossroads where I wonder how to facilitate safe practices, which rely upon the individual’s self-awareness and integrity to keep the production process going. As a theatre culture we are still new to the idea of safe practices for physical and emotional intimacy, so we know very little about facilitating these new and positive practices with youth.

Asking youth for self-awareness and high standards of integrity is a challenge. Not because they do not have the best of intentions, but because they are still grappling with who they are, what their boundaries are, and what integrity means to them. How do we measure and weigh self-care vs. self- indulgence? How do we manage accountability for judgement calls which can only ever be truly made by the individual? I want to respect my actor when she says she is ill, but does my intuition that she maybe did not memorize her lines on time count for nothing? How do I create an environment where individuals know and trust they can express their needs without punitive responses, while still fostering accountability, responsibility, and yes, endurance?

I do not know. I am grappling with how to foster a culture which prizes and balances both sets of virtues.

If I tell my actors they can refuse a part, I must honor that. If I tell my actors they can call “hold” without needing to explain why, I must be ready to honor this even if my intuition says that “hold” was called a bit flippantly. Perhaps they will call “hold” with a valid reason, or maybe they will call hold to test the system, or to test a boundary to gain a sense of safety—is that not also valid? At this time what I have learned is that if I am to orchestrate these safe practices into my work, I must build time for these experiments into my process. I have learned to refine my language to better communicate with young people who are still discovering what want vs. need means. I am now careful to specify the difference between a casting preference and a casting “need” related to an actor’s specific boundaries.

If I want to serve the youth I work with, I must grapple with meaningful questions such as those I pose here, not only with the “leaders” of theatre, but with the foot soldiers and worker bees of the industry. I am still a young woman, but I must realize that I am of a different generational culture than the youth I work with and serve. As such, no amount of research and training can supersede the value of listening to the ever-changing population we work with in TYA: generations will always change, so whatever questions arise we must always listen and learn from them.

-Sarah Kucharek
Third Year MFA Student

Sarah has presented her case study both at the EMU graduate research symposium and the 2022 AATE Conference. She hopes to further her studies in this area and someday publish her findings and offer trainings related to creating safer environments for young theatre artists.