Teaching theater in a New York City public school is equal parts exhilarating, humbling, and occasionally baffling—like directing a show with no script, where the cast is brilliant but the set keeps shifting underfoot.

There’s something truly special about working with students who bring a raw, unfiltered creativity into the classroom. They are fearless, unpolished, and—when given the right space—capable of magic. I’ve seen students who, on paper, struggle with traditional academics but can analyze a monologue with a depth that would impress seasoned dramaturgs. I’ve watched shy students light up the room with their first performance and outspoken students discover the power of restraint in their delivery. Theater, in this setting, isn’t just about performance; it’s about confidence, collaboration, and finding a voice.

The NYC Department of Education offers a wealth of opportunities. From city-wide arts initiatives to partnerships with professional theaters, students here can access experiences that rival conservatory training. That said, public school education comes with its own unique challenges—budgets are tight, resources are sometimes more hope than reality, and arts programming often fights for space amid test prep and rigid curricula. You learn quickly that theater education in a public school setting requires flexibility: if a set can’t be built, a vivid description will do; if props aren’t in the budget, a student’s imagination fills the gap.

Balancing all of this while keeping my own artistic pursuits alive—acting, writing, directing—can sometimes feel like trying to choreograph a waltz in a crowded subway car. The rhythm shifts. The space constricts. But you find ways to make it work. Sometimes my work outside of the classroom informs my teaching, like weaving storytelling techniques from my writing into scene study exercises. Other times, my students remind me why I pursued this path in the first place—why performing, creating, and sharing stories matters.

Teaching theater in this city is tough. It is chaotic. It demands patience and adaptability. But above all, it is a privilege. Because in this classroom, in this city, in this school system—where the odds often feel stacked against the arts—you get to watch students step into the spotlight and realize that they belong there.

And really, what could be better than that? 🎭