For many people, theatre is more than entertainment—it’s a place of identity, connection, and purpose.

 

One of our volunteers recently shared what it meant to rediscover their love of theatre after years in spaces that claimed to be “community,” but often felt exclusionary. As a wife and mom, theatre had long been a creative outlet—something that brought pride, fulfillment, and joy. Being on stage and behind the scenes of a good production always gave them butterflies, in the best way.

 

But over time, that joy became complicated.

 

Despite years of volunteering, they felt questioned and disciplined for doing things differently—even when the work was accomplished. They described going home in tears, trying to reconcile their love of theatre with an environment that no longer felt safe or welcoming.

 

Eventually, the scale tipped too far.

 

Then they were invited to assist at High Tide Theatrical.

 

From their very first show working front of house, everything changed.

 

“The butterflies were back. My heart was full. And the scale once again tipped—but all the way to the other side.”

 

They described being welcomed with open arms, trusted to do the work, and acknowledged for their contributions. For the first time in a long time, theatre felt like home again.

 

At High Tide, they shared, people are accepted exactly as they are. Everyone who walks through the doors—volunteers, artists, audience members—has their gifts seen and valued.

 

As the parent of an LGBTQ youth, they described High Tide as more than a theatre company—it became a beacon of hope and love for their entire family. The stories told here, and the way people are treated, extend far beyond the stage.

 

“Whether you are making a product, running a corporation, or producing an amazing show, it’s the people that matter. High Tide makes me feel like I matter.”

 

At High Tide Theatrical, accessibility means more than physical access. It means creating a culture where people feel safe, trusted, and seen—where community is built not just for audiences, but for everyone who makes the work possible.

 

And that is work worth sustaining.