13 Years - Tom Osborne

13 years 

7 connections

9 miners memorial services

4 summer schools

1500+ hours of regular sessions

4 Halloween projects

8 Christmas shows

3 LAMDA exams

2 summer celebrations

1 20-year anniversary celebration

300+ hours of volunteering

10 open mic nights

2 professional schools performances

This is a look at my time at Yew Tree in cold hard figures (not counting my years sat at the side, most likely asleep, in a car seat) there has been countless other performances and one off sessions, extra rehearsals, tech rehearsals and emergency teaching cover, but no one has time to trawl back through the photo albums to find them all, and I am not enough of a mathematician to work out how much time that would equal. So, I’ve found what I can, to try and paint a very rough picture of the sheer amount of time that has been poured into Yew Tree. I’m not the only one who has chosen to dedicate precious minutes, hours and days to this place, but I’ve certainly done a fair stint, and I’ve left pretty much everything I had out on the floor. But I’m sat writing this, after the first rehearsal of the first set of Christmas shows I won’t be in for 10 years, the last sessions of teaching I’ll do for an awfully long time. And its sad. Very simply. Incredibly, undeniably sad. For no other reason than Yew Tree has essentially been a lifestyle. From the unavoidable awareness of the day to day running of the company, to the big shows, the tiny performances in churches in the back end of nowhere, to the sessions we take part in just for the sheer hell of it, I am losing something that has shaped my weekly routine, my acting career and the conversations around the dinner table for as long as I can remember.

Its worth pointing out that there is a reason I’m leaving. To the 3 people I haven’t told, I am setting out to Manchester to continue studying acting at Manchester School of theatre. I’m terribly excited and incredibly nervous but above all, I’m genuinely humbled. I have been given so much and am being granted such an opportunity that I cannot thank the people who have granted it enough. I doubt the staff at MST will read this, but here, I’m not really talking about them. I’m talking about you. The people reading this blog, and the people who take everything from a minimal to a huge interest in Yew tree. There will be a list of individual thanks, but if I don’t mention you by name, and you have ever engaged in this company, I want to say thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

This is starting to feel like a speech at a corporation dinner but anyhow, moving swiftly on. Firstly, thank you to my role models, to the people who inspired me and gave me something to strive for. Danny Bell, who graciously allowed me to copy his every move unknowingly and play the same parts after he’d left them behind. To Johnny Hopwood, Robert Girgis, Mikey Wilby and many others, you consciously or unconsciously have played a ridiculously big part in making me the man I am. And that’s not something I'll ever repay. And more recently Calum Campell, Robert Hogg, Gareth Carson, Sam Behan and Tom Jordan. While I have spent less time with you, you too have helped me realise where I want to be in 10 years’ time, and for a lad my age, those milestones and inspirations are invaluable. I got told very recently that I was a role model for a couple of people, and the idea that I am doing for those people what these did for me blows me away.

Next, to my peers, people who grew up with me and shared both the memorable public times, and the moments that the outside world don’t get to see. Those that have left, like Amy, Georgia Petts, Sam MG, Bailey Poching, John Broadhead, Lottie, Sam W and others too many to name, and more recently, my boy Declan Kelly, Maddie, Lara and Ellie, Emily and Charlotte, and the rest of Gold and Black Company who have made the last year something remarkable. For me, Yew Tree isn’t about shows and applause, but its about a group of people who are willing to go out and give every part of themselves to solve problems and support each other. All I want to say is love each other, stand for what you think is genuinely right, and keep working as hard as you can. That’s what gets things done.

Places like Yew Tree mean something different to each person that attends. And that’s the beauty of it. And it’s a beauty shaped and guided by a small group of people. Gemma Whelan was the first Drama teacher I had, and I want to show huge gratitude to her for giving me the first little push on the gradually building snowball that has careened through the last decade. But the majority of my thanks go to Sarah and Paul Osborne. My Mum and Dad. Almost singlehandedly, Mum has created a culture of acceptance and laughter, fun and passion and that identity extends to her personality and the way she’s brought me up. I could not be more grateful for everything she has done for me, for teaching me everything I know about acting, and for raising me to be kind and generous before all else. And dad, I could write 5000 words alone on what you’ve done for me, from being my biggest supporter in every game of cricket I’ve played, to the countless lifts you’ve had to give me, to teaching how to be a man in all of the best ways. But no one has time for that. So thank you. For all of that and so much more.

The last things I want to say as I sit at this desk 40 minutes before I set off to Manchester, the mantra’s that have carried me from the car seat as a baby to the seat of the car taking me to drama school, are these. Stick your chin out and be somebody, get a little bit better every day, and be kind. It goes an awful lot further than you realise.

And for Grandad, watch this, whatever happens, its going to be something special.