In September 2025, I got to see “Maybe Happy Ending” on Broadway in New York City. Seeing Darren Criss live may have singlehandedly gotten me through the first semester; it was an experience I wouldn’t trade for the world.
I’ve been following Broadway since 2019, when I first got really into “Hamilton” and would storm through the house as if I were the most patriotic person alive. Shortly after, I’d gotten into “Dear Evan Hansen,” “In the Heights,” “21 Chump Street” and “How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying.” It didn’t take me long to think I wanted to be a Broadway star; I started digging the internet for acting companies in Pittsburgh that didn’t cost a million dollars a session (news flash, I failed).
Recently, the epic Greek mythology musical “Hadestown” has swarmed my Spotify “On Repeat” playlist. Patrick Page, who played Hades, is my newest obsession. You won’t see me around campus on March 2; I’m driving three hours away to see the traveling tour of “Hadestown” at Pennsylvania State University.
Okay, so here’s what we know about me: I like Broadway, and I listen to an obnoxious amount of “Hadestown.” But I also work at an underfunded theater that’s scraping for money to be able to continue putting on shows. Here’s the reality: live theater is dying, and only theater nerds — thespians, if you will — seem to care.
The barrier between people and theater is typically the expense, and it’s true that Broadway is crazy expensive. But then I wonder why people don’t try their local theaters, and the truth is that people don’t really care about theater as an art, but rather they care about their favorite influencer being a part of the new cast of the most watched show on Broadway. I know what it’s like to not be able to afford a fancy trip to NYC. I also know what it’s like to be involved with a local theater without the traction they need to continue.
What I think about most with live theater is recent stretches to diversify Broadway. Musicals like “Hadestown,” “Hamilton” and “Six” are working towards casts of mostly people of color, queer people and disabled actors. The hard truth is that seeing these people live is how they get paid. And in the current state of the country, art is really important, particularly for minorities, who are being grossly targeted. By continuing to see these shows and support these theaters, we’re giving minorities — and all actors — the stage they deserve.
Now, don’t get me wrong — I love my “slime tutorials” (a code name for illegal recording of a show) of Broadway musicals that aren’t running anymore, or the ones of original casts. I love that we’re all so willing to support those who can’t afford those things. But what I also love is that these videos are bringing people to the theater, and more tickets are being bought. I love that when someone watches a pirated version of a musical, they usually take the next step to go to a local theater. I love that for most people, art is something that unifies us. I think that’s really why supporting live theater is so important. Art is crucial in times like today, where people are dying and being struck down by their own people.
What’s also true is that these stories need to be told, and that sometimes it’s through theater that we can do that. Shows like “Les Miserables” and “Cabaret” wouldn’t have been nearly as popular had they not been in the form of theater. The unfortunate truth is that people are more likely to pay attention to something if there’s something to keep them entertained. These things make people think and discuss. They challenge ideas. When you watch actors actively portray poverty and racism, it forces people to educate themselves despite how much they might not want to. These are stories that are important, because poor people continue to be mocked and people of color continue to be killed.
I’m not trying to say that live theater is going to magically solve all of our problems. But there’s something rich in using art to not only support those in the industry but to also make a difference. The ability to change something through dance and music is foundational to being human — to be human is to love, and there’s something in a musical that scratches that itch for people.
So, go to the next show at your local theater. Go to Playshop’s productions. Play “Chicago” on repeat in your room. Don’t be afraid to embrace your inner thespian — you’re doing important work.