How Being a Theatre Kid Taught Me to Live More Sustainably

Theatre has always been my greatest love. From the time I was three years old, I knew I wanted to be an actor, and I truly couldn’t imagine my life without it.

I did musical theatre professionally for a while, but that lifestyle eventually took a toll. The constant travel, instability, and actor housing was…. not my favorite.

So, I decided to take a short break while I was building Going Zero Waste and then covid happened so my short break wound up stretching a lot longer than I had anticipated.

In an effort to make some new friends, after moving to Maine, I decided to audition for a local production of Shrek. (One of my least favorite shows, but full of some of my soon-to-be favorite people.) And, the rest - is history.

I fell into a gorgeous community, and these days, I volunteer in (almost) every corner.

I help paint sets. I run their social media. I assist on the costume crew - I made the eggs for Something Rotten. And of course, I perform. Nothing makes me happier than singing and dancing with a cast of people working together to make something special.

For a long time, I felt guilty about this hobby because it takes up a lot of my time and maybe I should be volunteering more on environmental projects?

But I’m a person who contains multitudes, and theatre doesn’t pull me away from sustainability - in fact I think it’s equally important in terms of teaching empathy to a world who desperately needs it.

And the theatre, well, that taught me how to live more sustainably than any workshop, article, or environmental summit ever has.

theatre is a masterclass in reuse

I’ve always loved dressing up. As a kid, that’s what initially drew me to costumes and eventually to sewing. I didn’t know it then, but that skill would end up being one of the most powerful tools in my personal sustainability journey.

Because once you know how to sew, you stop being limited by what’s on a rack. You see potential everywhere whether that’s a thrift store dress two sizes too big, a pile of scraps someone else was going to throw out, even in a pair of curtains waiting to become a summer skirt.

I got that mindset from theatre.

Costumes are often pulled from storage and reworked. If you need a new bodice, you make it. If something rips, you mend it. Fabric is precious. Time is limited. And creativity fills in the gaps.

I’ve been lucky to work in productions where the costume crew made magic with a tight budget and a pile of donated clothes. And the result is ALWAYS more interesting and original than anything you could buy off the rack.

And, this same creativity extends beyond the wardrobe. Recently, a local production of SpongeBob used found and upcycled materials throughout the set - which was so cool. It looked amazing but also a subtle statement on plastics and trash in the ocean.

Colorful, clever, and resourceful - exactly what theatre does best.

Because even in our own lives, we don’t have to buy our way into better solutions. Most of the time a sustainable option is in our reach if we can just pause and get creative with what we already have.

skills that sustain

In college, I took stagecraft where I learned rudimentary skills in many of the technical elements of theatre like how to tie knots for a fly system or build flats.

I wouldn’t call myself an expert, but I still remember the basics like how to brace something, how to repair a hinge, how to reinforce a corner. The kind of practical skills that theatre teaches without making a big deal about it. And they’ve served me far beyond the stage.

Because now, when something breaks in my home, I’m more likely to fix it than replace it.

When I need a piece of furniture, I’m more likely to thrift it, repaint it, and give it a second life. When I spot a ripped seam in a secondhand coat, it is a challenge I’m equipped to meet.

Theatre builds that mindset. Whether you're sewing, painting, repairing - you're learning how to solve problems quickly and efficiently!

community, communication, and the climate movement

One of the most powerful things about theatre is that no one does it alone. A good show needs so many people: actors, directors, stage managers, set builders, costumers, tech crew, lighting designers, pit musicians, ushers, and more. Even a tiny production is the result of hundreds of hours from a deeply dedicated team.

And in that way, it’s a perfect mirror of climate work. Because we need everyone. No one person can solve the climate crisis. It takes collaboration. It takes a wide range of skills.

It takes people willing to show up, do the less glamorous work and help lift each other up. And it’s hard to do without a shared goal and a clear deadline, which, as every theatre person knows, is what makes things happen.

But even more than that, theatre teaches us to care. It gives us windows into other lives and perspectives fostering empathy. And if there’s one thing I think the WORLD desperately needs right now, it’s more of that!

The facts are there. The science is solid. But facts don’t move people. Stories do.

We need to help people feel what’s at stake. Not just in terms of rising temperatures, but in terms of real human lives, communities, dreams, and futures, and theatre taught me how to do that.

I believe the reason I’m able to connect with people in my work as a sustainability communicator is because I spent years studying how to connect with an audience.

These skills are what allow me to write a post that resonates or speak at a conference in a way that feels honest and hopeful, not guilt-driven or overwhelming.

theatre made me a better human and a better environmentalist

For a while, I felt like I had to choose between my passions. Between art and activism. Between joy and impact. But the more I reflect on what theatre has taught me, the more I realize how deeply intertwined they are.

Theatre taught me to reuse. To repair. To think creatively. To collaborate. To communicate. And, maybe most importantly, to care.

It demands our presence, to sit still and watch someone else’s story unfold, and it reminds us that at the core of all great change, on stage or off, is empathy.

We need the arts now more than ever. Not just because they bring beauty or joy, but because they help us remember how to be human.