From the Fog Machine to Finding My Light: Theater, Carnegie Mellon University, and the Ultimate Pivot
By Alexa Janoschka

Alexa Janoschka, Programing for RRHS 9 to 5
If you had told me during my freshman year of high school that my entire trajectory would be shaped by a fog machine, I probably would have laughed. But that is exactly where my lighting journey began: sitting backstage during our high school production of Bridge to Terabithia, waiting for the stage manager to give me the cue to press a single button. Show after show, I sat there in the dark, watching the magic happen around me, and a quiet realization started to set in. I was destined to do so much more than just press that button.
I didn't just want to be in the room; I wanted to build the room. I decided to teach myself how to program the ETC Element at my high school.

Doodle of ETC Element Lighting Consule
I fought my way up the ranks, transitioning from a curious fog operator to a lighting technician, a programmer, and eventually the lead lighting designer. Long story short, I took over the lighting department at my high school. By the time I graduated, I had twelve major productions under my belt. We took our work to the national level at the International Thespian Festival (ITF), where I won Superiors and the National Showcase two years in a row.
The crown jewel of that era, though, was our production of Bright Star. Bringing that show to ITF was a massive, terrifying, and exhilarating undertaking. I had to figure out how to travel with thousands of dollars of lighting equipment, program on the fly in an unfamiliar space, and step into technical roles I had never tackled before. And I rocked it. There were minor hiccups, of course, but that experience proved something to me: I was an incredibly hard worker, and if I didn't know how to do something in the production realm, I was entirely capable of teaching myself.
That drive led me to apply to Carnegie Mellon University. Getting into CMU for my undergraduate degree felt like the ultimate validation. But the reality of college was a lot more complicated than the acceptance letter.
I arrived at a highly challenging, incredibly expensive institution carrying a heavy secret. I was privately struggling with the messy aftermath of a high school breakup, a deeply personal period of turmoil that deserves its own dedicated blog post, so I will save those details for later. But the weight of it was always there.
Academically, things started well. I was receiving a lot of praise for my work in the all-around design program. But as I transitioned deeper specifically into the lighting track, the illusion started to shatter. I found myself in an environment I fundamentally disliked. The personal drama and constant turmoil between the cohort and the staff were exhausting, and frankly, completely unnecessary. Learning and creativity do not require a toxic environment to exist.
Navigating this while also going to school through the height of COVID was a massive wake-up call. I realized I was surrounded by the wrong people. The transition from high school to college reveals a lot about who people really are, and I had to accept that sometimes, people are just deeply immature.
So, I pivoted. I started looking outside the theater doors. I poured my energy into side quests to keep teaching myself new things; cheerleading, football, cooking, journaling, and crafting. I realized that my life could be about so much more than just lighting design. After three years of disagreeing with the methods, the curriculum, and the culture of the CMU lighting program, I made the incredibly difficult decision to step away. My family did not support this decision.
For a while, I needed that distance. But slowly and surely, I have been finding my way back to the console.
I still have a deep love and respect for lighting design, but I am rebuilding my relationship with it step-by-step. Today, I am incredibly protective of my environment. I am re-exploring my options in technical production, looking for opportunities to get behind amazing technology, and most importantly, working with genuinely great, collaborative people.
I know now that while I am capable of figuring out the technology on my own, making true magic requires a village. I am currently out in the world, learning, adapting, and looking for the right collaborative tribe to finally call my next lighting home.

Doodle of ETC Leko



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