"SHHHHHHH"- The Value of Small Children in the Audience
I’ve heard this phrase said before and I, too, have said it many times: Phones and small children need to be banished from the theatre.
I couldn’t agree more with the phone prohibition since cell phone usage in theaters is really getting out of control, exposing the disrespect audiences have for the performers they are watching.
However, I have come to a fascinating realization regarding the issue of small children attending live theatre. Actors often denounce children at intermission or off-stage between scenes when one child, or a few children, are crying, talking, running in the aisles, etc.; basically, when small children act in a way that is developmentally appropriate for small children to act, and how every small child has acted in any situation whether at the theater, home, school, church, etc.
Most parents who bring their small children to the theater are the same ones who are encouraging them to explore, express themselves, and ask questions. The small children are by-products of their parents, teachers, friends, and media/entertainment influences. If I were a small kid and if I was encouraged to express, explore, and question, but then was hushed up at a performance or movie, I’d be confused as heck! A small child who hasn’t been taught audience etiquette wouldn’t know the difference and either completely shut down or be just as loud as s/he is at other venues.
Further, the last thing I would want, as an actor or audience member is an audience of high school-age and up for a production of The Wizard of Oz, or The Little Mermaid, or Beauty and the Beast, etc. Young children’s reactions to the multiple aspects of child-targeted musicals are rewarding to performers, and the chance to develop artistic hunger, to inspire, and then satisfy is part of what makes theatre an art.
Here’s the real problem is: poor preparation by the parents for their child to attend a live production. What if, in addition to banning the use of cell phones during a performance, we admonished as well against parents who haven’t taught their children audience etiquette? Everyone would be better served (and there would be less stress) if these folks refrained from spending their time and money to see a live production.
I’ve met parents with small children who bring a pad and paper for their child to write all the questions they have in lieu of talking during the performance. I love that idea because then the child isn’t “SSSHHHUUUSSSHHHED,” no one around them is disturbed, and the child still has the freedom to express, question, and explore. The parents answer the questions at intermission or after bows, it creates a discussion, exploration is happening, and boom, problem solved! This is why films at home need to serve as a starting ground for exposure to the arts (musicals, movies, ballets, etc.). Parents can watch the films with their small children, so the only audience around is the parents and pets, and then the child can learn when it’s socially polite to talk, and when we all have to sit there and wonder for a bit. It all starts at home.
I’ve met kids under eight years of age with impeccable audience etiquette, and 50+ year olds who act as if they are in their living room. I absolutely sympathize with the sentiment and frustration behind wanting to ban small children from the theatre, but I fear the more that we performers flippantly say this, it will prevent small children from experiencing the brilliance of the theater. Our words, especially when posted on social media, are being seen by hundreds, if not thousands of people, a good portion of whom are probably parents. How bad would it be if we lost a future generation of audiences, donors, season subscribers, ushers, volunteers, and other patrons of the theatre simply because when they were six years old their parents refused to take them back to theatre after the time Johnny or Jenny had ants in their pants, or simply because they saw an actor friend of theirs rant about kids on social media?
Even more to the point, the last thing I would want is for the next generation of Billy Elliots, Annies, Baby Junes, Baby Louises, Dorothys, Olivers, Artful Dodgers, Chips, Randy MacAfees, Shrpintzes, Bielkes, Winthrops, and Von Trapp Family singers to be shut up in their rooms simply because they were so engaged in a performance that they wanted to know why Elphaba and Galinda were fighting over shoes and a boy. The idea of those small children becoming the lost boys and girls, whisked away to a Neverland devoid of theatre simply because they weren’t allowed to be small children in a theater is a devastating image.
Of course there are the parents who take their small children to shows where the content may be a bit too “adult” for them. The next time I see a parent walk their small child into a production of Avenue Q (yes, I’ve seen it done a few times now), I will just start singing any number of songs from its Tony-winning score and just see what the reaction is. The parent may not care, in which case it is not up to me to jump in and make a “drive-by parenting” move by telling them they can’t see the show. It is the job of parents to do their homework before heading to the theatre, and the job of the theatre company/producers to accurately promote the show so that the target audience is the one in attendance.
Small children are not the enemy; parents are not the enemy. Putting butts in seats means a great deal to a theatre company because the butts are padding for the wallets which carry the money needed to keep the company running. Butts in seats mean a great deal to the actors because they are padding for the eyes, ears, and applauding hands that are attending our productions, watching the fruits of our labor. We as actors want approval; we need approval. Sure, if the child talks in the middle of your most tender Billy Bigelow moment of the Soliloquy, it may be jarring and momentarily kill the mood. But when that same kid, the following year, comes up to you, tears in her eyes, a smile as big as her face will allow, asking for you to autograph her program and to take a picture with you because you’re her new favorite performer, your heart melts, your cheeks blush (of course you say yes and take the photo), you tell your cast-mates while you’re dressing, you mention it to your partner over post-show drinks and eats, and then you go on your social media profile, the exact same medium on which you proclaimed that “small children should be banished from the theatre,” and you tell those hundreds, if not thousands of friends how much that small child broke your heart and made your years of training, debt, and rejection 100% worth it.
At the end of the day, children are not adults in training but growing, learning, and maturing creatures with emotions and opinions of their own, and they should live every second to the fullest. Parents, prepare them for artistic discovery by teaching them audience etiquette. Small children, dream big and dream often; you never know what the right theatre experience could do for you. Fellow actors, be careful what you say, children will listen. (And if that reference doesn’t mean a thing to you, perhaps you should consider skipping your next audition.)
