Why the same people that become therapists also go to acting school

When I first discovered Drama Therapy, I felt as if I had somehow manifested a profession that encompassed everything I ever wanted to do; feelings and people. Prior to discovering it, I had the same mistaken notion most drama therapists have which is, they invented something radical; drama for healing. Apparently it wasn’t much of an original idea.

I don’t know of anyone who told their first grade teacher they wanted to be a drama therapist. However, I do know of many who have claimed to want to be actors. Quite a few. Yours truly included. From the moment I had an understanding that playing other people and engaging in different stories was an actual thing, I wanted in; I wanted to play and I wanted permission to feel.

I grew up scared of big feelings. Though I most definitely possessed them, they were not encouraged in the home where I grew up. It was not that they were outwardly discouraged or shamed, but somewhere along the way I registered they made things inconvenient, and I really wanted to be “good.” This did not make them go away, but fueled an imaginary world where I could be anything and feel anything. I mostly wanted to be someone else.

I began drama classes at school when I was a tween. This was not some fancy school with child actors- this was a small suburban town in Southern Israel where the drama teacher also taught social studies. It was fun though. I was excited for it and felt like it came naturally to me. I did high school theater and solidified my plans to become a stage actor. Abroad. In the States. Far away. Where I felt freedom was within reach.

I ended up going to a 3-year acting conservatory in Tel Aviv, where my small town ways were quickly tucked away in favor of Winston Light cigarettes and red lipstick. I suppose I was far away enough from home to be someone else. I was challenged in every way throughout those years, my energy equally depleted by the competitive classes, as by the social dynamics that only a small acting class can breed. It was constant ups and downs and extremes of all sorts. It was enthralling and raw and exciting and devastating at times. I had permission to feel and I went for it. And I was still scared of those big feelings, even when encased in character. I still wanted to be “good”, whatever that meant. As if someone held a barometer I couldn’t see which measured when your emotional state went overboard.

There is a common speculation which happens in acting school of who is going to make it, who is going to become religious, who is going to become a teacher, and who is going to end up with a severe mental illness. In retrospect you don’t really have an idea of who is going to end up where. All you know is that you really want to be on the side of making it. I think the narrow options we had in mind for the outcomes of acting school speak to a larger question- what are people who go to acting school looking for? According to those criteria, it’s recognition, meaning, connection, and that something beyond the ordinary world. It is a place for seekers. In my case, I wanted to understand people when the world felt arbitrary and confusing. Understanding a character's motive can be illuminating on a personal level.

Therapists are seekers too. We seek patterns, reasons, roots. We use storytelling and imagination and imagery. We don’t know better than you. But it is a safe stage for our patients where big feelings are welcome and invited and explored.

It’s for the seekers as well.