A series on the role of theatre in vocation, with a focus on how it supports community-building, the uncommon good, and vocational exploration and discernment for all our students.
Lights up on theatre acting classroom, full equally of theatre and non-theatre students. Students stand in a circle.
STUDENT
(To the theatre instructor)
Wait, what are you asking me to do? Make a weird sound?
THEATRE INSTRUCTOR
Yes! Anything you feel inside, just let it out.
STUDENT
Um, okay, sorry, I don’t know if I’m doing this right.
THEATRE INSTRUCTOR
Try not to worry if it’s right, anything that comes out is fine. The goal is to take the risk to be silly and discover it’s okay.
STUDENT
(Looks around nervously and blurts out)
BAAAHHHH!!!
(Class erupts in applause and laughter.)
OTHER STUDENTS
(overlapped adlibbing)
Yes, that was great! Loved it! So good! Knew you could do it! Fun!
Lights fade as STUDENT can’t help but smile out of pride.
When Caryn D. Riswold observes that “the work of finding one’s calling operates in parallel with humanizing processes and practices,” I cannot help but think of what happens in theatre classes all the time—especially for non-theatre students. It is the work of vocational discernment.
To study theatre is to learn how to be human, and the questions that guide students to find their calling are the same questions that we explore in theatre. In an acting class, when a student takes on another human’s experience as their own, they must ask, “What is my character’s objective in this scene, and how does that inform their super-objective in the play?” These questions are not so different from asking, “What is my purpose here in college and how does it fit with what I feel called to do in my life?” Essentially, theatre asks students to explore vocation through the embodiment of another person’s story.
“What is my character’s objective in this scene and how does that inform their super-objective in the play?”
“What is my purpose here in college and how does it fit with what I feel called to do in my life?”
Yet theatre is more than acting, and theatre classes that do not focus on performance also engage the humanizing processes that Riswold describes. In dramatic literature courses, for example, students share insights—often based on their own lived experiences—about characters’ challenges and their motivations for actions. In a dramaturgy course, they explore the historical period, culture, setting, and background of the playwright to develop an awareness of the play’s message. In playwriting, they must think about how to invite an audience into a world as they create believable and sympathetic characters. All these experiences lay the foundation for building the confidence it takes to step into one’s vocation. Especially for students not majoring in the humanities, it can make a world of difference in their vocational journeys to take even one theatre class early on in their college career and encounter the humanizing process of theatre making.
The key to building such confidence is risk taking, which is at the heart of vocational discernment. Any time we pursue our dreams or goals, we encounter risk; and to discover if something is right for us, we must often try something new. Such risk taking can take many different forms; I often use this phrase with my students: “take risks appropriate to yourself.” For some, the risk is standing up in front of people and saying their name loud enough so that everyone can hear it. For others, the risk is taking on a role of a person whose life looks very different from their own. For all, a healthy theatre classroom environment creates the conditions for students to learn how to take risks appropriate to themselves.
In an arguably low-stake risk, a person might imagine living a certain kind of life. Or they might allow themself to believe in the possibility of achieving a certain dream. While these internal risks are necessary steps towards vocational discernment, risk taking in front of an audience ups the stakes. The presence of an audience represents a built-in market letting you know whether what you’re selling is working. Since the ultimate hope is that a person embodies the life that they feel called to, it’s crucial to provide a space that fosters embodiment with a group of people who are taking the same risks together. Theatre classrooms train students to take risks vocally, physically, and mentally—and, importantly, they do so in community.
The African proverb, “I am because we are,” represents an important truth that we find ourselves in community. Just by showing up, we create community and—as Norman Wirzba writes in Love’s Braided Dance—communicate that we are committed to a better future. In community, we take risks to listen, to share, to collaborate, and to show our work. In that risk taking, we feel our heart rate speed up—“What if I look stupid?” “What if I mess up?” “What if I don’t say the right thing?” As our sped-up heart rates indicate, the stakes feel high, as are the potential returns on taking such risks. People see and hear us, nod at our stories, make sounds of affirmation, laugh with us, chat with others and feel silly and anxious themselves. In these exchanges, a melting of resistance occurs as the body literally breathes out its tightness. Trust grows. Bonds build. Strength develops. Confidence soars. When we shed our insecurities, we build confidence in ourselves, and we become more in tune with ourselves and can hear the inner calling. When we build trust with others, we develop an external network needed to affirm calling.
Such risk taking and its vocational rewards are certainly possible outside of the communal contexts of classrooms (and their more controlled environments); still, I stand by my claim about the impact that the singular experience of the theatre classroom has on a student’s confidence. There’s something powerful about the classmate-audience recognition—often in the form of applause—of the person who has taken an appropriate risk in front of others. When a student risks being silly in front of their peers—and is received with embodied and vocalized support—I can’t help but picture that, inside their heart and mind, something similar happens as in the moment when the Grinch hears the community of Whoville sing from the valley on Christmas morning. All the built-up insecurities that have frozen the face and body into a posture of defensiveness thaw, as the student feels connected to others and proud of their accomplishment. If their heart doesn’t grow three sizes in that moment, their self-confidence certainly does.
Any performing arts class in which students can embody risk and their peers can applaud them is vital to the work of higher education, especially on those campuses that aspire to be spaces that help students discover their purpose. Through supportive risk taking, theatre classrooms train students to recognize risk and support others. They learn how to be observant of self and others. They learn about their limitations and the abundance of their gifts. As they perform certain roles, they learn how much work goes into any number of vocations, from parenthood to marriage, from political leadership to pastoral care, and more. The risks may feel huge, but that’s what makes the reward so great. So many humanizing processes are found in the theatre classroom—supporting a peer, listening to someone’s story, crying and laughing and getting goosebumps with others at the same time, applauding as a collective, and working together to bring a human’s experience to life. Students don’t have to be theatre majors to find themselves through these experiences. They just need to have the opportunity to enter these kinds of classes in the first place.
Tara Brooke Watkins is the head of Theatre Arts at Salve Regina University. She is a story circle facilitator and community engagement specialist with an emphasis on creating dialogue, action, and communal healing around charged topics like race, gender, gender identity, body image, sexual victimization, and homelessness. This work often leads to theatrical productions using communal stories, including the plays The Bible Women’s Project, Tulsa ’21: Black Wall Street, The Father Bill’s Play, Shatter the Silence, and an upcoming campus production about the impact of social media on college communities. At Salve, she is the chair of the Mercy Culture Commission, which seeks to create a welcoming environment for all students, staff, and faculty. She was a participant in the 2025 NetVUE Seminar, Enhancing Vocational Exploration. For more posts by Tara, click here.
