Making Space for Others to Succeed!

For a long time, I thought being a good director, teacher, or ensemble member meant having answers. Giving notes. Building structures. Setting the tone. And while all of that matters, the longer I do this work, the more I realize something else is just as important — sometimes more important.

Making space.

Not spotlight space.

Not “my vision” space.

But real, intentional space for other people to grow into who they are becoming.

Over the last few years, as my roles in this community have expanded, I’ve found that my greatest sense of fulfillment doesn’t come from what I create anymore. It comes from what I help other people step into. Watching someone trust themselves. Watching them take a risk they wouldn’t have taken a year ago. Watching them claim a voice, a skill, a confidence that used to feel out of reach.

And that kind of growth doesn’t happen by accident.

It happens when someone quietly, consistently sets the room up for success.

Creating space for others to succeed often looks invisible from the outside. It’s not glamorous. It’s not loud. It’s not about control. It’s about noticing what someone might need before they ask. It’s building structures that don’t center you. It’s adjusting how you teach, direct, or perform so someone else can be clearer, braver, safer.

Sometimes it’s as simple as how a warm-up is framed.

Sometimes it’s who gets the first line.

Sometimes it’s who is encouraged to lead, to teach, to submit, to audition, to travel, to apply, to create.

One of the most powerful things we can do for each other is set people up to win.

Not by lowering the bar — but by handing them the tools to reach it.

That means giving clear expectations instead of vague encouragement.

It means celebrating progress, not just results.

It means creating rehearsal rooms and classrooms where curiosity is rewarded, not punished.

It means naming potential out loud before someone believes it themselves.

But space alone isn’t enough.

At some point, support has to turn into encouragement toward motion.

I’ve learned that part of making space is knowing when to gently push someone toward the next step — even when they’re scared. Especially when they’re scared.

Submit the festival.

Audition for the show.

Send the email.

Teach the workshop.

Pitch the idea.

Travel to the training.

Lead the project.

So many artists don’t stall because they lack talent. They stall because no one ever showed them where the next door was — or because no one stood beside them when they reached for the handle.

Encouragement isn’t hype.

It’s clarity.

It’s direction.

It’s belief paired with action.

And when you do that long enough — when you intentionally make space, set people up for success, and encourage forward movement — something bigger starts to happen.

Opportunities multiply.

Not because you’re chasing them.

But because you’re building people who are ready for them.

Opportunities grow out of trust.

Out of preparation.

Out of environments where people are allowed to try, fail, refine, and try again without losing their seat at the table.

Some of the things I’m most proud of now aren’t shows I’ve performed in — they’re the rooms I’ve helped build. The students who are teaching. The performers booking work. The teams creating their own projects. The artists who no longer need permission.

Making space for others to succeed doesn’t mean disappearing.

It means shifting.

From being the center…

to being the ground.

And from that ground, watching people rise.