Audrey A McGee

(From June 2024 – May 2025, I was the Vision and Call Production Intern at Taproot Theatre Company in Seattle. This was my written reflection at the end of the program, which was an amazing experience!)

May 29, 2025

A couple of months ago, I ran into Erin Owens, one of the box office staff and a RoCo understudy, hanging out in the Kendall Lobby. I was planning to just say hi and walk by, but I stopped and said – “Isn’t it great that we get paid to do theatre?” I think I was running errands and cleaning up the green room that day. It wasn’t a day that I would have dreamed of coming into this internship. But I just saw myself there and stopped in awe and gratitude – people were making theatre, I was helping make it happen, and I was getting paid for it.

That’s one of the best things that I’m taking away from this internship. The love of the theatre that expands beyond the grandiose titles of director and playwright, that embraces and honors each role, whether or not it has any creativity attached to it. Our E&O officer hadn’t worked in a theatre before Taproot – and neither had our new Box Office Manager. Their skills – organizational, analytical, and so on – are just as crucial to making Taproot function as the actors on stage or the designers behind the scenes. Scott and Pam Nolte, Taproot founders, worded it best: “Ensemble as a theological position.” Or perhaps I should go to their source:

1 Corinthians 12:21-22

“The eye cannot say to the hand, ‘I don’t need you!’ And the head cannot say to the feet, ‘I don’t need you!’ On the contrary, those parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable…”

For this past year, I took on one of the weaker roles in the Taproot body. But this body, thankfully, embraces every part of itself. I felt seen and honored, and I was delighted that I got to be a part of the work. That mentality is exactly what I want to bring to every job in my future, especially if I ever want to start a theatre company.

All that being said, I still had a lot of incredible experiences and successes in my internship! It wasn’t all humble duties and gofer runs, not by a long shot. Guess who was in the room while Taproot’s 50^th anniversary season was being planned? Watching and asking questions, soaking up every dream, challenge, and consideration that was discussed. Me, a former and future producer, learning how to put together a season from a brilliant group of artists who also share my values and faith. That’s what I dreamed of coming into this internship.

Speaking of dreams – I could write several essays on the life-changing experiences that I had while working on Lewis and Tolkien earlier this year. Back in October or November, I asked for more opportunities to shadow the artistic team, and was astonished to suddenly get a front-row seat as a Directing Observer for L&T. I had permission to hang out at rehearsals, talk with Karen about her process, and take hundreds of notes on dramaturgy and performance. My second day of rehearsal, I read for Veronica, whose actor and understudy both had conflicts; I have to say, there is nothing quite like spending several hours chatting with your two favorite authors, especially if you keep getting interrupted by a room full of nerds telling them how to do it better. That show gave me so much life, and it came at the exact moment I needed it, both personally and professionally.

Before Taproot, I thought that I could never be a stage manager. After a month or two at Taproot, I realized I already had. My work as director and producer for a small community theatre included a lot of organizational tasks that are generally given to the stage manager in a professional context. So, learning how to be a stage manager was equal parts waking up old skills and picking up new ones. I stage managed the intern showcase last summer, titled Bloom, and then Lewis and Tolkien gave me the chance to shadow and fill in for both SM and ASM roles. I got comfortable calling a show, handling backstage protocol, and taking lots of notes. Only a week or so after L&T closed, my boss at a separate job asked if I had any stage management experience, and I could say yes. Cut to right now, I’m the stage manager for a teen play with twenty-some students. Let me remind you that a year ago, I thought that was impossible.

Taproot has been an amazing home for me this past year. I’ve made some of the best friendships and mentor relationships that I’ve ever had; I’ve been introduced to so many incredible scripts that I knew nothing about; I’ve watched this company go from a financial crisis to a financial triumph and the efforts of every department to get it there. I dabbled in dramaturgy and got paid nearly $800 to make crap out of hot glue and cardboard – that is, props for our Acting Studio camps. And I haven’t even mentioned my self-study project, where I turned my past failures into a creative study about theatrical finances. I cannot express just how much Taproot has blessed me and impacted my career. God has shown up and used this company in my life in wild ways, and I hope that I learn as much from it as it has poured into me.

Everyone at Taproot says that there’s just one way to quit Taproot: you don’t. And clearly, I find the lot of them to be grossly beneficial to my life. So, thanks for everything – and I mean everything – and I’ll see you soon!