<p>I know you don’t want to be a helicopter parent or Mama Rose, MTthewayforme. Applying to theater programs is such a different situation from most. I hope you take comfort in hearing how other families handle it. Here’s what we did, which is pretty similar to others:</p>
<p>During senior year, my son became much more responsible for himself and his career in a variety of ways. But the college application and audition scheduling process were clearly beyond what one human being could accomplish. </p>
<p>We decided that 100% of the artistic side was his job, which included finding monologues, memorizing and preparing them, and doing the same for his songs. He had a voice teacher to help with the songs, and did a couple of sessions with an acting teacher who had been his director in a couple of shows, for the monologues. He made his audition backing tracks and audition DVDs 100% on his own. “Artistic” also included essays and the final decision about which schools to apply to. As LoveMyMTGirl notes above, “No input from me other than to pay the bill.” </p>
<p>Believe me, he had much more on his plate with that, than most students have to do when applying to four or five liberal arts colleges.</p>
<p>On the management side, like kategrizz in the posting above, I did the data entry, scheduling, travel arrangements, transcript follow-up with his high school, and made the spreadsheet for deadlines and requirements. I also sat with him to craft the information that went to the guidance counselor, who didn’t know him except as that tall kid with mediocre grades and fabulous test scores. I’m sure the GC cribbed extensively from that, when filling out his forms.</p>
<p>I did very little in terms of reminding/nagging my son about the things he had to do on the artistic side. I did make a sorted list of audition requirements for each school. By now all of you probably know how arcane that can be. One minute comedic, two minute dramatic, contemporary vs. classical, contrasting, blah blah blah. He took that list to his monologue selection session and came home with it heavily annotated.</p>
<p>He was in charge of talking to actors and singers he knows, about colleges and careers. I was in charge of reading College Confidential and passing along tips, audition horror stories, and so on. I’d send him links to threads I thought he should read, and he did a lot of reading here also. (“Mom, were you the one who asked the question about copyright and photocopied music?”)</p>
<p>In terms of deciding where to apply, we talked a lot. I think I made a long list of schools I thought he should consider, and he visited the websites. (We found that the websites are singularly unhelpful. They’re all the same. But the faculty bios are worth looking at, and curriculum info, if you can find it.) Then we did pros and cons, both from his perspective and mine. </p>
<p>I would like to think that he learned some things about organization from doing these tasks together. In fact, I know he did. He ended up making notebooks with all his audition materials, and kept them updated and organized the way his schoolwork never has been.</p>
<p>He was accepted to one school in December, and at that point we talked about the rest of the applications, and he decided to withdraw from a couple of schools to lower his audition burden, because he preferred the school he had already gotten into. </p>
<p>Our whole family went up to Unifieds, and stayed at a hotel very near the audition locations. He opted to do all the auditioning on his own, which let me off Sherpa duty, so the rest of us did touristy things while he warmed up, got to the audition, did it, and chilled out afterwards. We all saw a couple of shows, and we made him come up the Empire State Building with us late at night, which he later said he was glad to have done.</p>
<p>Then came all the waiting. I developed a certain amount of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, checking and rechecking the decision websites, trying to read the tea leaves, as it were. Rumors would circulate on CC and Facebook. “They’re making the calls!” etc. etc. Important point: I did not share my OCD with my son. He didn’t need to know that minutia about when decisions were coming out. It was strictly my own pathology, and looking back I have to shake my head. More experienced people were saying, “It’ll all work out.” And it did.</p>
<p>Over the course of the six-month process, two schools rose to the top as his overwhelming favorites, his “dream” schools. He was admitted to one of them, and he is there now, working harder than he ever has in his life. </p>
<p>It was all incredibly time-consuming, but worth it.</p>