The first MCT show I saw was The Wiz when I was in fourth grade. It was a community theater production in 1982 at the old space on Main Street. When the winkies crawled out from under the stage and scared the audience, I thought, “This is the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. I must do this!” My mother signed me up for the very next children’s theater production where I was cast as a dancing bear. At auditions, I was terrible. I knew they wanted to cast me with the littlest kids, but I was nine years old and a bit tall, so I made the cut for a slightly better part with kids my age. Everything back then was very basic. We would often rehearse in a downstairs bar that was closed in the late afternoons. Our costumes generally consisted of peasant blouses which had been RIT dyed and our blue jeans, which we would cuff. We were barefoot in a lot of shows. But the MCT method was already well-established: Sing brightly, project energy, create beautiful stage pictures, and enjoy the delight from the audience. No one was allowed to fail.
In the 1990s, MCT hired me to fill in as a tour actor/director for a production of The Wizard of Oz. I auditioned kids every week and cast 50 of them in a musical that would take one week to produce. I only agreed to do the job because the contract was only for three months and it would get me out of another Chicago winter. But, immediately, I found myself living in the moment in a way I’d never imagined. Communities were welcoming us into their homes and school gymnasiums and trusting us with their beautiful, talented children. The kids were so funny and smart. No week was the same. No performance was the same. One contract renewed for another, then another. By the time we called it a wrap, we had been living on the road for 15 months, working with a new cast of kids every week in an era before cell phones and email. I performed in Florida, Maine, Washington, and everywhere in between. It was like being at sea for months on end, just traveling and auditioning and singing and bringing the life-changing joy of MCT to so many families that we really couldn’t process all of it.
Now, I live in Missoula again, and my kids have done MCT. I get to be on the Board of Directors. And I give a recurring donation every month.
Here’s why: MCT provides life skills by ensuring kids succeed in a milieu that is often intimidating to adults. That’s an incredible achievement on its own. And it doesn’t just work for kids who are outgoing or natural performers. MCT works for kids with disabilities. It works for kids who aren’t academic. It works for kids who aren’t athletic. It gives kids a spotlight when they may not get other opportunities. One show – just one weekend where an audience laugh is earned and a child is seen by their community in a positive light – will be a “win” that child will never forget. And I know from experience that often tour actors will see something in a child that their parents and communities never saw before. That happened all the time when I was on the road.
Also, after touring, I know what the word “Missoula” means for communities. Around the world, kids right now have marked their calendars and are living for that special week when “Missoula” comes to town. MCT tries to be everywhere it can by keeping the tour as affordable as possible. If I can help ensure an MCT residency remains affordable and accessible to those kids, I’m going to.
Finally, I have worked as a development officer for various nonprofits and know that the hardest monies for nonprofits to secure are the “unrestricted’ funds that can be used for things like keeping the lights on, paying the staff a bit more, or anything else that isn’t paid for by a project-specific gift. With more unrestricted funds, MCT can do more. They use their money well. I trust them. If I had millions to donate, I would.
So if you can join me in our new Spotlight Society for recurring donors, please do.