The summer before seventh grade was rough for me. I dealt with struggles in my mental health that I had not even come to understand yet, and to make it worse, I did not get the part I wanted in a musical. I kept thinking “My part doesn’t really matter,” and because I conflated theatre with my identity, that sometimes expanded to “I don’t really matter.” I walked into opening night with a chip on my shoulder – and then I saw that the music director of the show wrote little “Break a leg!” notes for each cast member.

Reading mine really touched me. She wrote of what I brought to the role and how I was valued in the cast. And suddenly, I felt empowered and started to see things differently. I got on stage that night thinking, “I matter,” and I gently brought that mindset into the other areas of my life. The next time I didn’t get the part I wanted, I remembered it.

I always cringe when I read articles berating children to “toughen up.” I remember what it felt like to be a kid, putting on a brave face and finding my solace in community theatre. I remember what it felt like to not get a role I wanted, especially when it seemed like there weren’t many places that I could be myself and feel supported.

But even in communities outside of theatre, such as sports or academics, honoring a kid for “participation” is looked upon as frivolous nonsense. If “everybody wins,” then doesn’t nobody win? Doesn’t this create only extrinsic, rather than intrinsic, motivation? My answer is a resounding no.

I reject the belief that making children feel special will turn them into whiny, sniveling Veruca Salts, unable to handle failure. I am certainly not saying that we should coddle children, spoil them, or encourage them to mope when things don’t go their way. In fact, I am arguing quite the opposite.

Theatre is inherently harsh, even in a youth or community setting, and kids naturally deal with disappointments. Not getting the desired role, not getting a solo, or dealing with line slip-ups are all healthy obstacles that promote growth. In adult life, these skills amount to resilience, cooperation, and kindness.

But without the intrinsic fire of inherent worth and value, can kids actually really feel happy for a friend who got their desired role? They already know that leads will traditionally have more stage time than ensemble members. At the bare bones of it, that is the motivation to go to an audition – to try to get the “best” part.

Contrastingly, honoring kids for participation celebrates the act of showing up, removing the labels of “good parts” and “bad parts.” It doesn’t totally soften the blow of not getting a desired role (and it shouldn’t because, as discussed, there are skills and resilience to be built there), but it eliminates that role as a measure of self-worth. It places emphasis on the value of doing, rather than getting.

Kids don’t become brats because they get “participation trophies” – they become brats because they don’t. When a kid doesn’t see the ensemble ever get acknowledged, or they only see soloists get praise, this registers immediately. The thought changes from, “I want to do theatre because it’s fun and I will learn something new,” to “I want to receive that praise and acknowledgment.” And all of that is entirely implemented by adults – “Children Will Listen,” anyone? What may be interpreted as bratty behavior is just an inability to see self-worth beyond extrinsic value. And the way to dismantle that is through the acknowledgment of everyone.

One might wonder – does a kid really deserve a high five just for showing up to rehearsal and performances? This is a very interesting take, considering that many adults struggle with public speaking and confrontation – never mind putting on costumes, memorizing music and lyrics, getting in front of a crowd, and entertaining. Not every kid who does community theatre is going to end up pursuing it. In fact, most of them probably won’t. But they still memorized the songs, showed up at call time, and did the work. That’s something to be proud of in itself, especially if the child does not ordinarily feel comfortable at the center of attention.

That being said, children who do love the spotlight and don’t seem to feel any fear can often suffer opposite anxiety – the pressure to live up to their high expectations. In situations like this, the difference between getting Dorothy or the Scarecrow can seem like life or death. It’s not just an assessment of where they fit in the cast, but commentary on how talented they are, how popular they are, and how important they are. But when everyone in the cast is acknowledged equally for their work, this pressure dissipates.

Suddenly, it’s less about the role they play in the limelight and more about the role they play for the team. This allows them to seamlessly float between ensemble and lead, onstage and backstage, solo and group number. If a kid knows that the measure of their success is not a role or a title, that they’ll always be appreciated and valued for what they contribute – they will instead begin to measure by hard work, personal growth, and joy. In that way, they can never lose.

San Francisco Children’s Musical Theater

As a music director in youth theatre myself, I’ve been excited to cast children as leads when they’ve earned it. At the same time, I’ve had to disappoint kids when they’re not quite ready to take on a big role yet, or they’re a better fit for a different part. But one thing I absolutely vow to never do is to make a kid feel like earning a role means earning my respect and my praise.

At the end of each production, I always wrote every student a small card, celebrating their wins in that show and offering my congratulations. This is certainly not something I’d expect every music director to do (I worked with a small group of kids, was in college, and had a lot of time on my hands), but since I had the privilege of a free schedule, it was something I really enjoyed doing.

One year, a student knocked on my classroom door and handed me a note of my own, thanking me for helping her with her singing. The one line that really stuck out to me was, “We all need you.” At that moment, I was really back in that sixth-grade rehearsal classroom, thinking for a second… “Wow… I matter.” I guess that feeling of being appreciated never really never loses its spark.

There is definitely a time and a place to honor leads or cast members who go above and beyond, and I am in full support of that. It’s important for kids to understand that it’s not always their time to shine – and trust me, they will learn that lesson from theatre. But I certainly wouldn’t worry that “participation trophies” are going to create a lack of motivation or a surge of entitlement in your students.

Instead, it will create self-worth, self-esteem, and a genuine love for their community, where they always play a valuable role. And you never know – they may still be thinking about your “Break a leg!” note twelve years later.

Yes, Everybody Wins: Participation Trophies in Youth Theatre

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