Theater Tales in Tally Marks

This is a story about theater, but I promise I won’t be giving a review or trying to sell you tickets to something. That’s because this is really a story about community.

Recently, I had the privilege of helping organize the first Jerusalem English Theater (JET) Showcase as part of the Nissan Nativ theater festival. Many people, even within the community, were surprised to learn that Jerusalem now has fourteen community theater companies. Each is independent, but JET represents a loose association of shared resources, information, and community. While there is significant overlap of actors and participants between companies, hundreds of people are involved in non-professional English theater in the city, producing everything from family-friendly musicals to Shakespeare. For the festival, each company presented a scene or musical number from a past or upcoming production, highlighting the diversity of Jerusalem English Theater. I was blown away by the talent and the breadth of material. However, the thing that made the biggest impact on me wasn’t on the stage—it was a simple whiteboard.

Whiteboard from the JET Showcase, December 2024

A Simple Whiteboard, A Powerful Story

For the festival, we wanted to focus on the community aspect of JET, so we created an interactive element: a whiteboard where people could tally their experiences. After the show, where others might have seen just a collection of tally marks, I saw a story of love and community.

Those marks told stories of dedication—people who had invested 5, 10, and even more years building this community. They spoke of relationships formed, from lifelong friendships to marriages. They marked those who had spent their free time on stage and backstage with family and friends. They mark the community that supports each other from the audience, as well as the cross-action of a community that has built a robust English theater scene through sheer perseverance and love of the stage. Even if this is just a representative sample of the community, it demonstrates how much connection is fostered by theater in Jerusalem.

I always knew that we had Israelis and olim. I knew we had everything from small children to octogenarians and that the community includes people from all over the world. Some of us live in Jerusalem; some just pass through for a year or two. We are a community of students, professionals, and people united by a shared passion for theater.

Yet, to see the deeper connections spelled out in black and white made me take a moment and realize how privileged I am to have had such an “easy landing” as an olah and ba’alat teshuvah because of Jerusalem English Theater.

Personal Connections

My own story is interwoven with this community. In 2007, I was a gap year student at Hebrew U when I joined the musical at Beit Hillel. Fast forward to 2014. I was in midrasha as a ba’alat teshuvah trying to figure out my future. Friends from that 2007 show introduced me to my now husband, and of course we spent the first three months of dating doing a show together. When we got married and I made aliyah, the theater community became my family, welcoming me on stage, at Shabbat meals, smachot, and everything in between.

Growing up secular, I had done theater in my public high school. When I started keeping Shabbat in college, I prepared myself to give it up. What theater company would cast you if you couldn’t rehearse on Jewish holidays or perform on Shabbat? But in Jerusalem, I discovered a community that truly embodies inclusivity. Shabbat? No problem. Kosher food deliveries to rehearsal? Check. Only skirts? Shomer negiah? We can work with that. You cover your hair? Here are the best tips for dealing with wigs backstage. You want to perform with your kids, or only for women? We’ve got you covered.

The community has something for everyone, from plays to musicals, classics to modern material and original work. It provides opportunities for those who want to write, for those who want to direct and choreograph, and for those who want to shine on stage or backstage. The community, and the opportunities for theater in Jerusalem, reawakened a part of my personality that I thought had been dimmed forever.

More Than a Performance

Over the last decade, I’ve worked with more than five different companies on dozens of shows. I was also co-producer for a few years with J-Town Playhouse at AACI. I used to mark my life by shows—”this person had a baby during Avenue Q,” “that person got married during Steel Magnolias.” Theater has been my anchor.

What I’ve learned from doing theater in Jerusalem is that it isn’t just about what happens on stage. Many people have weathered love and loss because of the support within the community. Friends have become family, sometimes more so than actual family, and this is a common theme.

Thinking about the community goes beyond holiday get togethers, movie nights, or epic karaoke. I have flashbacks to midnight zmirot at a Shabbat table, practicing Shakespeare in the park, and late rehearsals laughing so hard my cheeks hurt. Many of us can picture that “look” from the DJ/band/grandma/rabbi when we’ve flashmobbed a bride and groom in a real-life musical number. I remember huddling together with tissues after the shock of losing a beloved friend and colleague. I can still taste the cheap wine we were drinking out of mugs in the J-Town office, and I remember the tears and hope the night we packed up our props and costumes as the theater at AACI closed for good. I remember hospital visits and kiddushes where children were named. I still think about March 2020 when a show had to cancel its sold-out run. Fifty of us sat spaced 6 feet apart in a massive auditorium, the only audience this show would ever have, giving standing ovations and cheering until we were hoarse. The love, support, and appreciation in that room was palpable.

Though my role has changed over time, the community remains a constant in my life. This festival was a welcome reminder that life is about the community we build, the connections we forge, and the stories we tell together. As I packed away my theater bag—filled with props, scripts, acamol, makeup, and memories—I wondered about the next time I’ll get to pull it out and the people I’ll share it with.

To anyone reading this who hasn’t yet joined the community on the stage or in the audience, you are always welcome. To everyone represented in those tally marks on the whiteboard, and those who couldn’t participate: thank you for building this community and reminding me why we do this. This has never been just about theater. This has always been about community.