At Texas Tech University’s School of Theatre & Dance, the graduating Class of 2026 leaves behind more than performances and projects; they leave with a shared language of growth, resilience, and artistry that extends far beyond the stage.
Though their paths into the program varied, a common thread emerges: each student arrived searching for something larger than themselves. For Jackson Chapman (BFA Acting), it was the promise of a cohort— “acting and musical theatre students all creating together as one.” For Tayler Robertson (MFA Performance & Pedagogy), the program represented something even more foundational: “I’m the first in my family to experience this level of education… I wanted to come out not just as an actor, but as a well-rounded artist and educator.”
Others were drawn by opportunity and possibility. Ayanna Taylor (MFA Performance & Pedagogy) saw the program as a place where a small town could still offer expansive artistic experiences. Robyn Conner (MFA Performance & Pedagogy), meanwhile, found her way through both personal connection and professional curiosity—drawn to new facilities and a developing theatre education track.
Moments That Shift Everything
Ask these graduates when they changed, and their answers aren’t about applause or opening nights. Instead, they point to moments of intensity, vulnerability, and unexpected clarity.
For several, that transformation began in the classroom. Chapman recalls his time in Suzuki training with Dr. Chris Staley as nothing short of foundational: a physically demanding practice that reoriented his understanding of focus and presence. “Themes of ‘groundedness’ and potential energy changed my approach to acting,” he reflects.
For others, the shift was deeply personal. Robertson describes the moment she chose to step away from a role rather than push her body beyond its limits: “Taking care of yourself is pivotal in this work—and I finally learned how to do that.” Taylor recalls a conversation with a professor that restored her sense of voice: “They reassured me that the way I was feeling was valid… I felt like the voice I lost came back immediately.”
And for C.C. Lawrence (BA Theatre Arts), transformation came in the wide-open landscapes of the Marfa Intensive, where theatre, psychology, and personal reflection collided. “The ‘Twilight Zone’ vibe of South Texas lends a lot of time for fevered reflection,” she writes—an experience that ultimately led her to pursue psychology alongside theatre.
Belonging Isn’t Always Immediate
Despite the program’s emphasis on ensemble, belonging didn’t arrive instantly for everyone.
Robertson is candid: “I was one of four [Black graduate students] … It felt like people knew way more than what I was working with.” Her experience underscores a truth echoed across responses—community at Tech isn’t automatic. It’s built.
“You have to be intentional with who you want to hang out with,” she explains. “That’s how you find your people.”
For others, belonging arrived in flashes. Chapman found it in an unexpected comedic performance that revealed just how open his peers were to hearing his voice. Conner found it in survival—specifically, making it through a grueling Suzuki class alongside her cohort. Taylor describes it as a quieter internal shift: letting go of imposter syndrome and trusting that she deserved to be there.
The Work That Shapes the Artist
When reflecting on their craft, these graduates speak less about mastery and more about discovery.
For Chapman and others, Suzuki training pushed physical and mental limits to their edge. Conner found growth in both the Monodrama process—where she embraced her identity as a writer—and in the musical theatre dance course, where she discovered new confidence in her physicality.
Robertson points to her work in The Ghost Project as a turning point, describing it as a test of “body, mind, and soul.” The takeaway wasn’t just artistic—it was holistic: prioritize yourself, or the work will suffer.
Across the board, a key realization emerges: there is no single “right” way to be an artist. Chapman articulates it clearly: “I get to pick and choose what works for me… I get to choose what tools I put in my actor’s toolbox.”
A Community That Holds You
If there is one defining feature of this class, it’s the depth of its relationships.
Faculty mentorship stands out as a cornerstone. Multiple students cite professors like Dr. Bill Gelber, Rachel Hirshorn-Johnston, and Dr. Paul Reinsch as pivotal figures in their development—not just as artists, but as people.
But it’s often the smaller moments that linger most. A hallway hug after loss. Friends showing up to a performance. Shared meals, rehearsals, long trips, and dressing rooms filled with nervous energy.
“We may not always agree,” Conner says of her cohort, “but we always have each other’s backs.”
Taylor echoes the sentiment, describing the program as “one big family… when we all come together, we truly make beautiful art.”
What They’re Taking with Them
As they step into what Chapman calls the “infinite possibilities” of life after graduation,
these artists carry more than training—they carry perspective.
They’ve learned to set boundaries. To advocate for themselves. To embrace failure as part of the process. To recognize their own worth in a field that often demands constant comparison.
Robertson recalls a piece of advice that reframed her sense of self: “You continue to look up to people like Angela Bassett and Viola Davis… not realizing you are in the same boat as they are. Someone is looking up to you.”
Looking Ahead
The future paths of this class are as varied as their journeys.
Chapman hopes to continue telling stories— “big or small.” Conner is focused on education, advocacy, and community engagement. Robertson plans to perform and work as a teaching artist, nurturing the next generation. Taylor is headed to Chicago, with aspirations that include expanding her work and joining a national tour.
And yet, for all their ambition, there is a shared honesty about what remains uncertain. “Everything,” Chapman admits when asked what he’s still figuring out.
A Final Word
When asked to describe their time at Texas Tech in a single phrase, the answers range from “Opportunistic” to “Humbling” to “Transformative.” Conner’s answer— “Giddy Up!”—might capture it best: a mix of humor, momentum, and the willingness to leap into the unknown.
Because if there’s one thing this class seems to agree on, it’s this:
“At the end of the day,” Taylor writes, “we get paid to do make believe.” And they’re ready to take that seriously.