I was raised to love theatre. My dad was one of the leads in the school shows when he was in high school, as was my uncle. Both of my older siblings did shows throughout the years and I was taken to each and every performance. My favorite movies growing up, were musicals. "The Sound of Music," "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory," and "The Wizard of Oz" are still some of my all-time favorite movies. I love the characters, the stories, and I love the messages. But, most of all, I love the music. It was only a matter of time before I stepped onto that stage and saw what theatre was all about.

I remember my first musical, "Last Chance High." The show wasn't very good, and I did not understand the plot. The cast was filled with most of the 6th grade, since nobody was allowed to do sorts until 7th grade. The director was mean and scary. I didn't really have any friends. But I loved it. I can still remember sitting in a little alcove before the first song, excited to finally get onstage and sing the first big chorus number. I also remember the stage manager taking chorus kids aside in little groups. The director only paid attention to the leads, never the chorus or the technical crew. But the stage manager took us aside in small groups and gave us, what I like to call, the "orc speech". He told us how our part was just as important as anyone else's. What if one of the Orcs in "Lord of the Rings" had not been acting? Had not been giving their part their full effort? It would have thrown off the entire scene.

In theatre, you can be whoever you want to be. You can be a snake, intent on eating the main character for lunch. Or a gigantic eye monster. You can be the detective in a murder mystery. Or the maid to a princess in ancient Rome. Want to be a mime? A member of Aslan's army? A wizard? Anything is possible. It is like one gigantic collective game of make believe. Bringing to life these characters and creating a world to escape to for the audience.

That's not even to mention the chaos offstage, nerve-wracking auditions. The torturous wait for the callback list, then the cast list. Learning songs, dances, and blocking. Memorizing lines. Frantic last-minute meals. Late night rehearsals. Getting fitted for costumes. Goofing around while you're not being used. Inside jokes. Tech week. Opening night. Pre-show rituals. The show. Closing night. Cast parties. Rinse and repeat. So much more happens behind the curtain, and no two shows are the same. Every cast is different.

But, in the end, it always comes together. Every person does their job and together creates a final product. Without the stage crew, there would be no set. Without the tech crew, there would be no lights or microphones. Without the band, there would be no music. Without the costumers there would be no outfits. Without the director, musical director, and choreographer there would be no show. Without the producer there would be no budget. Without each and every person knowing their part, the whole thing would collapse. It's like one massive game of Jenga, or a machine, with many different parts to keep it running.

In the end, this is why I love theatre. The teamwork that goes into making a show work. The unbreakable bonds that form over countless hours of rehearsal. The hard-work, talent, and perseverance that comes from each and every member of the entire process. The ability to escape into worlds you could only ever dream of. Being surrounded by people who are doing what they love. That magical feeling when all the long weeks of practice and rehearsals culminates in an epic final performance. That moment when a cast becomes a family. This is why I love theatre.