You wake up. The first thing you do is check your email. There are the typical notifications from classes when your professor puts something in the gradebook. You weed through all the pointless sale ads from stores that you fell into the "can I get an email?" trap and now receive emails from them every two seconds. But then, you settle upon a singular email that has at least three threads attached to it. It's from a rehearsal report you sent out at least 12 hours ago, and the director of the show you're working on is talking to the costume designer who is talking to you who is talking to the sound designer. Any of this make sense? No? It's okay, these things take time.
When I tell people that I want to be a stage manager, the first question is always what a stage manager is. The stage manager is the person that is over an entire production. For example, you have a director who is in charge of upholding the vision of the play, a set designer who creates the realm of the play, a lighting designer who provides light and emotion, a sound designer who creates the sound that we hear wafting through the set, and the costume designer who dresses the actors to look like they're from the realm of the play. Who makes sure that everyone is communicative and knows what everyone wants from each other to get the play done? The stage manager. Another thing the stage manager does is sit in on every rehearsal, every technical, and every show. They are with the actors from audition to closing. They are with the designers long before auditions and with them up until closing. They are the person who gets to see the production before anyone else, and knows all of its dark secrets and little tricks.
A stage manager is organized, a good communicator, and a leader. Many people rely on the stage manager to tell them when their call is, or to make sure that the sound designer knows that this light cue is going to be at the same time as their sixth cue. They are the central hub for the production and know it inside and out. It's a stressful job at times, but it's the kind of stress that you crave. It seems bad in the moment, but you watch the show go up every night and you're constantly reminded why you do it. When the show closes, you are genuinely sad, but then you have to pick yourself up and move onto the next. The beauty of theatre not only lies in the fact that it is living and breathing art, but the fact that there are so many elements that come together so quickly. Seeing everything come together so nicely in the end is why I am a stage manager.
It's more than just the endless emails, the organized notebooks, and stressful nights. It's watching something you love come together before your eyes, amazed that something like this can be pulled together like it was nothing.