An Open Letter to Actors at the Stage Door

Amanda Mueller

To the Actors at the Stage Door,

Thank you. 

Far often you are not thanked for the simple task of being you.  

As a fan of the theatre and all the magnificent traditions it holds, I have been able to witness countless performers blow out their voices on a Sunday night, fight through illnesses and personal hardships, and give their everything to eight shows a week. And yet, we still see them after each performance with a smile on their face.

Theatre fans are dedicated.  I, myself, have waited hours and hours to meet you.  In the pouring rain, in below-freezing weather, I wait. I wait because meeting you and telling you how much your work means to me is the seal to a remarkable experience. 

Thank you for being courageous.

It is no secret that Broadway fans are passionate.  We scream, we cry, and we sing at you after a three hour long performance, just to show you how much we want to be like you. Even though you know this is exactly what you will find when you leave the stage door, you do it anyway, and with grace.  I don’t know how you do it.  

And now, I would like to apologize. 

Some of us are selfish and forget our compassion.  When you come out of the stage door but do not stop, or not come out at all, some of us get mad.  Thank you for not holding that against us.  Deep down, we know our disappointment does not compare to the tiredness you feel.  Please remember we make mistakes and are grateful for you always.

Meeting you at the stage door is a gift.  We know there are no guarantees in life, but you taking the time to sign programs, take many awkwardly-framed pictures, and listen to our stories give us hope.  Hope that we, too, can be as selfless and appreciative as you are.

So, thank you.  We may not always show it, but your presence at the stage door is the cherry on top of our theatrical experience and you being the wonderful person you are makes that experience complete.

With warmest regards,

A forever-grateful theatre lover.

Christopher Peterson