Dear High School Directors, Please Don’t Build the Season Around One Star

by Chris Peterson, OnStage Blog Founder

I know the feeling. You’ve got a student in your program who’s so talented—vocals that make the room stop, instincts that seem years beyond their age, stage presence that lights up the whole auditorium. And when you’re planning next season, it’s tempting to go, “Well, obviously we should do [insert dream role here]—they’d be perfect.”

But here’s my encouragement: pause.

As directors, it’s so easy to get swept up in the momentum of a standout student. I’ve been there. We want to give our kids opportunities; we want them to shine, and it feels like giving them the lead in the perfect show is a way to reward their hard work. But high school theatre is a team sport. And when we build an entire season—or even just one production—around one student’s talents, we unintentionally send the message that the rest of the cast is secondary.

That’s not the culture we’re trying to build.

Theatre education should be about the ensemble. It should be about creating spaces where every student feels seen, valued, and challenged, whether it’s their first show or their final bow before graduation. When we pick shows based on a single student’s strength, we’re not just limiting opportunities for others. We’re also limiting that student’s growth.

You don’t build an artist by handing them a role they could do in their sleep. You build an artist by giving them material that stretches them and forces them to collaborate, listen, and adjust. And you build a program by selecting stories that offer depth across the board—not just in one showstopping number.

I’ve worked with some truly gifted students. But you know what I remember more than their solos? I remember the casts where everyone showed up for each other. A first-year tech kid and a senior lead felt ownership over the production. Where there wasn’t just one star—there was a galaxy.

So what does that look like practically? It means choosing ensemble-forward shows, where the storytelling is layered, and the arcs are shared. It means saying no to that “perfect vehicle” for one kid and saying yes to the play that will challenge ten. It means thinking not just about casting but about culture.

And yes, that star student? They’ll be okay. If they’re serious about this work, they’ll go on to bigger stages. And what they’ll take with them isn’t just the memory of playing Elphaba or Harold Hill—it’s the understanding of how to be a generous scene partner, a grounded storyteller, and a humble ensemble member.

So, to my fellow directors, I’ll just say: let’s not chase the most “impressive” production. Let’s chase the most inclusive one. Let’s build seasons that reflect the whole cast, not just one performer. Let’s focus where it belongs—on community, creativity, and collaboration.

Great theatre doesn’t happen because of one student; it happens because of all of them.