Summary 

I went into this fellowship thinking I’d be studying sustainable theater in a technical sense; how to build greener sets, reduce waste, and use fewer resources. But what I found in South Africa completely changed the way I think about sustainability. Sitting in a Johannesburg hall, watching a room full of scientists moved to tears by a performance about climate change, I realized sustainability in the arts isn’t just about conserving materials; it’s about cultivating empathy. Sustainable Stages: Lessons from South Africa’s Green Theater Movement became a journey about people, stories, and the power of creativity to help the world heal. Through the support of the Pat Cooke Fund, I traveled to Johannesburg and Cape Town, South Africa to see how artists weave environmental awareness, cultural identity, and social justice into their work, and I came home with new ways to bring those ideas to my students at Boston Green Academy. 

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My journey began in Johannesburg, though it actually took an unexpected turn before I even arrived. While planning my trip, I reached out to Empatheatre, a South African collective whose work I’ve long admired for blending storytelling, research, and environmental activism. I originally hoped to visit their home base in Cape Town to observe their rehearsal process, but when they replied, they told me they would be away presenting their newest research and production, Unruly, at the upcoming Transformations 2025 Conference on Earth System Governance in Johannesburg. They invited me to attend, meet with them in person, and see their work performed within an international dialogue on climate transformation. 

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That single email changed the course of my fellowship. I rebooked my travel itinerary (swapping Cape Town and Johannesburg) and found myself stepping into a global convening of more than 400 scientists, policymakers, and artists from 50 countries; each exploring sustainability through the lenses of justice, equity, and creativity. Sessions moved seamlessly from research and policy to performance and storytelling. Participating in this conference demonstrated to me a living example of how collaboration and continuous learning can fuel systems change. 

Empatheatre’s performance of Unruly was one of the most powerful experiences of my career. I watched as a hall full of scientists; people accustomed to data and models, sat in silence, visibly moved. During the discussion that followed, one scientist said (as close to a direct quote as I can remember): “True sustainability is about reimagining how art can move people from awareness to action.” That sentence stayed with me. It captured everything I was feeling in that moment. Every person in the audience was in tears by the end of the show, and I felt so much emotion seeing how theater not only told the stories of those without a voice, but also reached and transformed a room of unexpected listeners. 

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I also attended Empatheatre’s Meaning and Making workshop, which invited participants to explore creative research through storytelling, dialogue, and movement. What began as a workshop quickly became a living collaboration between people from all over the world. We shared space, ideas, and stories; discovering how creativity could hold both data and emotion. It reminded me why I fell in love with theater in the first place: because it makes people feel what numbers alone can’t. That realization fundamentally changed my approach to teaching sustainability in the arts. I now see that sustainability in theater isn’t just about reducing waste; it’s about expanding awareness. It’s about using performance to help others feel the data. Later this semester, my Theater Production and Design students will meet with Dylan from Empatheatre (virtually) to learn how they, too, can create performances grounded in research, emotion, and advocacy. 

 

At first, I felt a wave of imposter syndrome. Surrounded by researchers and policy experts, I worried that I wouldn’t be able to keep up with the discussions and that my perspective as an artist and teacher might seem out of place in such a research-driven environment. But as the week went on, I realized how much of the conference actually depended on art. Visual art displays, storytelling, movement, and music were integrated all throughout the conference. Later in the week, I joined The Work That Reconnects and Healing and Finding Meaning; two sessions devoted to processing climate grief and finding renewal through creativity and community. I left with several exercises I plan to adapt for my students; simple but powerful ways to help them connect creativity with care for the world around them. Those sessions reminded me that sustainability education doesn’t just happen through facts and figures; it happens when students are invited to reflect, collaborate, and imagine new possibilities together. 

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After the conference, I traveled to Cape Town to explore how sustainability is practiced within a major performing arts institution. While in Cape Town, I toured Artscape Theatre Centre, one of the country’s most prominent performing-arts venues and a leader in sustainability within South Africa’s cultural sector. Founded in 1971, Artscape has intentionally evolved its operations to balance creativity with environmental responsibility. I learned how they’ve invested in energy-efficient LED lighting and building-management systems that reduce power consumption, introduced water-saving mechanisms, and shifted toward re-usable modular staging to minimize waste. Staff members described how their technical departments prioritize repurposing materials between productions and encourage eco-friendly set and costume design. I also loved that they have outreach programming that invites young artists to imagine theatre’s role in a sustainable future. It was an inspiring model for how “green theatre” can move beyond ideas into daily practice, and it helped me envision how similar strategies could be adopted at Boston Green Academy on a smaller scale. 

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Beyond the walls of the theater, I immersed myself in South Africa’s history and its ongoing story of resilience. Visiting Robben Island and the Apartheid Museum brought to life Nelson Mandela’s belief that “education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world.” I understood in a new way how social justice and sustainability are intertwined. When I met with the leaders of Jazzart Dance Theatre, they spoke candidly about how inequities born under apartheid still echo through arts funding (how traditionally white institutions like the ballet continue to thrive while organizations serving Black youth fight to stay open). Watching Jazzart’s dancers blend traditional African movement with contemporary choreography reminded me that sustainability also means cultural continuity: keeping alive the rhythms, languages, and stories that define identity.I took notice of how art was around me everywhere; in murals protesting pollution, in street performances, and in sculptures built from reclaimed materials. 

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While my journey ultimately unfolded differently than planned, I now see that the change in direction was exactly what it needed to be. My original proposal focused on the technical side of green theater (energy efficiency, recycled materials, and production methods), but once I arrived, the work led me toward something deeper. Following the invitation to attend the Transformations Conference shifted my focus from how we build theater to why we build it. 

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In the short term, I plan to embed these insights into my Theater and Dance curriculum at Boston Green Academy through a “Sustainable Stages” unit that merges climate science, performance, and storytelling. Students will analyze environmental data and transform it into devised performances advocating for 

 

climate action that will be performed (and displayed for my Theater Production and Design class) at our new “Green Arts Showcase.” In the long term, I hope to share this work with the border BPS Arts department, helping other educators use creative practice to foster environmental literacy and empathy. 

This fellowship deepened my conviction that the arts don’t simply reflect our world, they reshape it. Thanks to the Pat Cooke Fund, I now carry both the inspiration and responsibility to help students become creative leaders in sustainability, equity, and change. 

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“Empathy is the most renewable resource we have.” — Rebecca Solnit 

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Reflection Questions 

How have your knowledge, skills, and capabilities grown? 

This trip reminded me that learning doesn’t always look like research notes or data collection; sometimes it happens through conversation, collaboration, and shared reflection. I thought I was going to South Africa to study green theater in a technical sense (lighting systems, recycled sets, and production methods), but I came home understanding sustainability in a much deeper way. The workshops I attended and my conversations with artists, scientists, and community members showed me that sustainability is about connection: to each other, to the stories we tell, and to the environments that hold us. I’ve always respected theater for it’s ability to foster empathy and share stories, but I left with a deeper respect for theater as a living form of research and a tool for communicating scientific data. 

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How will your instructional practice change? 

I’ve always wanted my students to sense that what they create can matter outside of the school walls but have a new example of showing how that can happen. Instead of separating “science” and “art,” I’m bringing them together; asking students to research environmental or social issues that matter to them and build performances around what they discover. My hope is that they’ll start to see data not as something distant but as something they can interpret, embody, and give meaning to. I want to bring the spirit of those Johannesburg workshops into my classroom; spaces where students explore complex issues through curiosity, connection, and creativity. This year, my Theater Production and Design students will participate in a “Sustainable Stages” project where they analyze local environmental data from Boston Harbor and transform their findings into short devised performances. We’ll partner with our science department so students can collaborate across disciplines, learning how to translate research into emotion, data into story. We will launch this project through a call with one of the founders of Empatheatre! 

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I plan to integrate reflective practices I learned at the conference into warm-ups and journaling, helping students process their emotions around climate and social justice through movement and writing. Inspired by what I saw at Jazzart and Artscape, we’ll also repurpose old materials from past productions and experiment with eco-conscious design, turning our stage into a living example of creative sustainability. 

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What was your greatest personal accomplishment? 

Saying yes to something that scared me. Walking into a global sustainability conference full of scientists and policymakers, I initially felt out of my depth. But as the conference unfolded, I saw how much the arts belonged in that conversation. Sharing space with Empatheatre, contributing my perspective as an educator, and witnessing how performance moved people gave me a quiet confidence I didn’t expect. My greatest accomplishment wasn’t a single moment, it was realizing that my voice had value in those spaces. 

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How will your experience positively impact student learning? 

At Boston Green Academy, many of my students are already passionate about justice and equity. This fellowship gave me new tools to help them channel that passion into creative leadership. Through the Sustainable Stages unit, they’ll explore how art can influence public awareness and policy by performing for peers, staff, and local community partners. I also plan to pilot a “Green Arts Showcase” with our Enrichment Team that brings together students in dance, visual art, and theater to create interdisciplinary performances on themes of sustainability and empathy. 

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In the long term, I hope to develop a district-wide professional development series through BPS Arts to share this model with other educators, helping more schools connect environmental literacy with the performing arts. My goal is for students to leave my class not only as performers, but as thoughtful citizens who understand that creativity can be a catalyst for change. 

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What are your plans to work collaboratively with colleagues? 

I’m collaborating with our Enrichment Team to create a Green Arts Showcase, combining dance, music, media arts, visual art, and theater around themes of sustainability and justice. My original plan was to develop a written “Green Theater Sustainability Guideline” for BPS arts educators. While my fellowship shifted toward understanding the role of storytelling and empathy in climate work, I still plan to share this research district-wide, just through a different form. Over the coming year, I’ll design a Creative Climate Toolkit that blends sustainable production practices with arts-based strategies for teaching climate empathy. 

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I also plan to share the “Sustainable Stages” unit (once refined) with the BPS Arts Department so fellow educators can experience these exercises firsthand and adapt them for their own classrooms. My goal is to spark a network of arts educators across Boston who see theater not just as performance, but as a catalyst for environmental and social healing. 

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Are there issues or challenges you feel better prepared to address? 

Yes, especially the intersection of equity and sustainability. After seeing how apartheid’s legacy continues to affect access to the arts, I can’t unsee the parallels in my own work. Environmental justice is social justice. I feel more equipped to help students explore that connection and discuss privilege, access, and systemic barriers through the lens of creativity. 

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How has this fellowship changed your personal and professional perspective?

It changed my pace. It slowed me down in the best way, reminding me to listen more, to let learning unfold instead of forcing it. Personally, I came home with a sense of gratitude and responsibility. Professionally, I came home with a renewed belief in the power of art to move people toward understanding. I think a lot about that scientist’s words after Unruly. When my students hear that so many scientists in Johannesburg wept after a performance, I want them to prepare something that moves someone else; not by chance, but by design. If art can change hearts, then education can change systems…and that’s the work I want to keep doing.