Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you. There is not a day that goes by that I don't think about you and how lucky I was to walk through your doors, onto your stage, and into your welcoming arms, extended to me by every person I interacted with. Theatre people are quick to talk about how the theatre is "a home," and you, my theatre, are my home away from home. Really and truly. No matter how often I can or cannot come around now, I know that you will always be a home, and I will always think of you as a place where I truly grew up.

Thank you for surrounding me with people who care. Theatre people have a way of passionately caring about everything. Filled with empathy, they care about people. Filled with ideas, they care about our world. Filled with life, they care about living. I needed that. The world has too many apathetic people, but your walls were full of people who cared. They cared about each other; they cared about me. They taught me that when you do a show, you create a family, and that theatre family never leaves you. Whether you do six shows with a member of that theatre family or just one, they travel on with you through all of life's adventures. Thank you for all of those people. Because of you, I have them in my heart for the rest of my days. They are the number one reason I love you. They are the biggest gift.

Thank you for showing me that because I can try, I can succeed. I have a hard time stepping outside of my comfort zone--always have, always will. You showed me, however, that I have to take that step. Maybe that step is the scariest step of my life, but it's just one step. "Surely I can take one little step," my brain began to think, as people pushed me off the edge of my comfort zone cliff. One step leads to another, and soon enough those small steps out of my comfort zone that you made me take began to add up. One day, I realized that they were all steps on the path of success, which I was now walking, thanks to you.

Thank you for being a place where I could fail miserably. I may have walked some steps on the path of success, but I also fell down a lot (sometimes very literally in a dance call or two). I auditioned and didn't get cast. Sometimes I (*gasp*) didn't even get a callback. I butchered a song or two. I forgot my lines. I missed an entrance. I tried things that didn't work. And, quite honestly, it sucked. Because it sucks not to succeed. I cried over a cast list or two. I got red in the face more than once or twice. I laughed at myself many times. Yep, I've failed a lot with you, but I've learned through the process that the more you fail, the less you fear it. Thank you for being a place full of supportive people where I was able to learn that lesson.

Last, but certainly not least, thank you for growing me up. I say that you are where I grew up, but you are also why I grew up. You saw me at my awkward middle school phase, where I felt like I didn't even know how to walk correctly anymore, and you let me work (and walk) through that, finding myself as I went. You opened my mind, teaching me that there are two (and sometimes three or four or five or six or seven...) sides to every story, and those different sides matter. You gave me characters to find myself in, whether it be an orphan that taught me about finding joy in any circumstance or Dorothy who taught me the importance of friendship or a slimy eel that taught me that sometimes those voices in your head don't really know what they're talking about, even if they sound like they do. You gave me the older brothers and sisters that I always wanted, and they became wonderful examples of how to live a beautiful life. You gave me mentors who reminded me who I was, when sometimes even I had forgotten.

You grew me up. Those lessons and experiences you gave me have already helped me in the "real world" every single day, both in my continued adventures in the arts, and in everything else that might seem completely unrelated to theatre (because there is absolutely nothing that is actually unrelated to theatre). So, I thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. We all thank you, because I know that whether someone walks through your doors when they are 4 years old or 104 years old, they learn. They grow up, because they learn to be a child again. We have been through a lot together. We've played, we've imagined, we've cried, we've laughed, we've lived.

Thank you for showing me that "there really is no place like home." You are that home. I love you forever.

Love,

One of Your Theatre Kids