The audience never sees them. Their names aren’t in lights. No one claps for the way a prop materializes on cue or how a scene shift happens in the dark. But for Casper Waggoner and KJ Engel, the magic of theater has never been about the spotlight—it’s about what happens behind it.

Casper, a stage manager, and KJ, a tech manager specializing in lighting, have spent four years shaping the productions at Salem Community High School’s Performing Arts Department. Their work is unseen but essential, transforming the stage into something alive, where sets move seamlessly and lighting breathes life into every performance.

But theater, to them, is more than a series of productions. It’s a home. A safe space. A family.

The Accidental Beginnings of a Theater Tech Career

Neither Casper nor KJ planned to end up in the world of stage tech. In fact, Casper wasn’t even interested in theater before high school. But one night, as a freshman, they watched Shrek the Musical from the audience—not enthralled by the performance, but by what was happening in the shadows.

"I wasn’t really watching the show," Casper admits. "I was watching the set move in the blackouts. That’s what fascinated me. That’s what made me want to be part of it."

For KJ, theater was almost an accident. They had signed up to work on props, but when the team desperately needed a lighting tech, everyone pointed at him. Just like that, he found himself responsible for lighting an entire production.

"At first, I had no idea what I was doing," KJ laughs. "But then I fell in love with it."

A leg injury sealed the deal. Unable to move around the set easily, KJ embraced the lighting board full-time—and now, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The Controlled Chaos of a Show

In the world of theater tech, everything must go right… until it doesn’t. As stage manager, Casper is in charge of it all—set pieces, props, actors, even the curtain itself.

"I’m responsible for making sure everything moves when it’s supposed to," they explain. "And sometimes, that means thinking on your feet when things go wrong."

And things do go wrong.

Like during their first-ever production after COVID shutdowns, when almost no one on the team had theater experience. With only a handful of seniors who had ever set foot on a stage, everything was chaos.

"We were all confused the entire time," Casper laughs. "But that made it fun. It felt like we were building something completely new, together."

KJ remembers a particularly ridiculous last-minute fix. "There was this ghost prop we didn’t finish until the night before opening. We panicked and just threw together a little cutout. Somehow, it became everyone’s favorite thing in the show."

That’s how theater works. Disaster turns into tradition. Mistakes become memories.

A Place Where Everyone Belongs

For all the technical details, what matters most to Casper and KJ isn’t the lighting, or the props, or the cues. It’s the people.

"Theater is a family," KJ says simply. "If something is going on, I know there are people here who will support me. We all take care of each other."

Casper agrees. "Even if you come in not knowing anyone, you’ll end up knowing everyone. It’s just that kind of space."

And it’s not just about camaraderie—it’s about belonging.

"You can be exactly who you are here," Casper adds. "Theater is the one place where you don’t have to explain yourself to anyone."

It’s a truth that has shaped their entire high school experience. The performances may come and go, but the friendships and the sense of home will last.

What’s Next?

As seniors, both Casper and KJ are preparing for their next acts.

KJ is heading to Murray State to study English, with dreams of becoming a writer—maybe even a playwright.

Casper is starting at Kaskaskia College, exploring their options but leaning toward becoming a school librarian.

Neither of them is certain if theater will remain part of their futures, but they know the lessons they’ve learned here will stay with them.

"You learn how to adapt. How to think fast. How to work as a team," Casper says. "Those things matter, no matter where you end up."

And as they prepare to leave Salem Community High School behind, one thing is certain: The curtain may be closing on this chapter, but the show will always go on.