How to be a Good Backstage Roommate

Congratulations! You've been cast in a show. You have also just agreed to spend the next several weeks sharing a very small space with a dozen or more people, their costumes, shoes, hairspray, emotional-support water bottles, nervous digestive systems, and wildly incompatible musical tastes. Welcome to backstage. There are a few things about being part of this particular little community that nobody necessarily tells you, but everyone should know.

Manage Your Personal Ecosystem

Casts and crews are often forced into very tight quarters backstage. Bodies are bodies, and along with them come certain, shall we say, smells. A good castmate does what they can to minimize their contribution to the collective backstage atmosphere. And I'm not just talking about the gnarly odors. The perfumey ones count, too. Imagine the combined bouquet of Roy's stinky shoes, Shirley's perfume, backstage hairspray, BO, Axe body spray, latex, spirit gum, Febreze, and whatever burger joint Dan visited before rehearsal. It's a lot. Anything you can do to eliminate a layer of that olfactory lasagna puts you one step closer to sainthood. So, in the interest of everyone's respiratory well-being:

• Shower regularly and reapply deodorant before rehearsal or getting into costume.
• Avoid heavy perfumes and body sprays.
• Brush your teeth before rehearsals and shows, and maybe keep some breath mints handy. Your scene partner will thank you.
• Don't wear the stinky shoes. Everyone has that one pair that just reeks. Maybe those aren't the shoes to leave backstage in a small room with fifteen other people.

And it should go without saying, but I'm saying it anyway: wear clean undergarments. The impact of your end-of-day funk is multiplied when you add hot stage lights, physical activity, and costumes that may not be laundered after every performance. Your castmates will appreciate you. Your costumer will appreciate you. Civilization itself may depend upon you.

Plan Your Meals Ahead

Right before a show is probably not the time to indulge in black bean chili topped with onions. Nor is tech week the ideal moment to begin your new "I Love Cruciferous Vegetables" diet. No green room is big enough to accommodate that sulfurous miasma. I'm not saying don't eat broccoli. I'm just saying that perhaps you don't eat all the broccoli immediately before spending three hours in a poorly ventilated backstage area with twenty other people. Likewise, if tonight's dinner contains enough garlic to ward off Dracula, maybe add some breath mints to your theater bag. Again, it's all about the ecosystem.

Poop at Home

There. I said it. Poop happens. And as the children's book has been assuring us for decades, everybody poops. But when you are sharing a small backstage space with limited bathrooms and even more limited ventilation, it is a kindness to practice a little bathroom diplomacy. Obviously, we don't always have control over our digestive processes. Bathrooms are there for a reason, so please, use them when you need them. Nobody wants you suffering through Act II because you're trying to earn some sort of gastrointestinal Good Castmate Award. But if you can handle your business at home before coming to the theater, backstage will be a friendlier place for everyone. And remember: Leave. The. Fan. On.

Respect Everyone Else's Process

You may love loud '80s hair bands and find them a fantastic pre-show energy boost. But not everybody wants to listen to Pour Some Sugar on Me while they're getting ready. Some people want quiet. Some review their lines. Some do vocal warmups. Some need a few minutes to get into character. Some apparently enjoy elevator music. It takes all kinds. Fortunately, we live in the miraculous age of headphones and earbuds. You can do you without infringing on everyone else's aural space.

The same principle applies to conversation. If someone is clearly trying to review lines, focus, or mentally prepare for the show, let them. They aren't necessarily being antisocial. They may simply be trying to do the job they came to the theater to do. Give your castmates room for whatever process helps them walk onstage ready to perform.

Remember That Changing Clothes Changes the Rules

Community theater dressing rooms can include people of wildly different ages, backgrounds, bodies, comfort levels, and expectations about privacy. And shows sometimes require costume changes in places that aren't particularly private. Quick changes may happen backstage, in the wings, behind a curtain, or wherever we can carve out three square feet and thirty seconds. That doesn't mean normal boundaries disappear. Don't stare. Don't comment on other people's bodies. Don't take photographs of people changing. Give people whatever privacy the space allows. And don't assume that because you're perfectly comfortable changing clothes in front of everyone, everybody else should be. When circumstances require people to be physically vulnerable around one another, being respectful isn't just good theater etiquette. It's part of making backstage a place where everyone can feel safe and comfortable.

Clean Up After Yourself

Your mother doesn't work here, and the stage manager and costumers are not your maids. It is your job to pick up after yourself, hang up your costumes, return things where they belong, and keep your personal clutter reasonably contained. Backstage spaces usually contain more people, costumes, props, equipment, and assorted theatrical debris than they were ever designed to accommodate. Clutter doesn't just make the space unpleasant. It can become dangerous. A purse strap left across the floor becomes a tripping hazard in the dark. So does a pile of discarded clothing. A cluttered makeup station can become a costume disaster waiting to happen. Have you ever tried to get mascara or lipstick out of a white costume thirty seconds before an entrance? Trust me. It's a stage manager's nightmare. So hang up the costume. Put away the makeup. Pick up your shoes. Contain your stuff. Your backstage footprint should not require its own zip code.

Remember the Golden Rule

There isn't a super-secret theater handbook that requires a special decoder ring to understand. Most of these "rules" aren't really theater rules at all. They're roommate rules. Being a good castmate isn't about memorizing a list of obscure theatrical etiquette. It's about recognizing that your experience isn't the only experience happening in the room. Your music is someone else's noise. Your perfume is someone else's headache. Your clutter is someone else's tripping hazard. Your conversation may be interrupting someone else's concentration. Your comfort level isn't necessarily someone else's comfort level. Backstage is a shared space, and for a few weeks, it's also a strange little temporary home. You don't have to become best friends with everyone who lives there. You just have to be a good roommate and “do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”