Chad Goodridge is one of Broadway's fastest rising stars following his breakout performance in the Tony Award-winning musical Passing Strange. TDI caught up with the actor outside a Greenwich Village café to discuss his thoughts on race, acting, Being, and how they all point back to Dartmouth.

TDI: What are some of your fondest memories of Dartmouth?

CG: My friends and I used to organize these big midnight games of capture the flag on the golf course, and they were always the most dangerous things. Somebody always went to the hospital, but it was so much fun. One time we were running really fast and my head collided with my friend's cheek, so this pretty girl had a huge bruise on her face for a few weeks. This one girl--it was her first time playing with us--got her teeth knocked out when my friend ran his forehead into her mouth. So those are my fondest memories of Dartmouth [laughs].

TDI: Well, in your biography on the Passing Strange website, you say, "I went to Dartmouth, which was really pretty," and then you move on. Do I sense some hostility there?

CG: It wasn't my place. When I went there to visit, everyone I met was from a different generation--they spoke about their Dartmouth friends as friends for life, that kind of thing. So I went in expecting that, but that's not what my experience was. But I got a lot of good things out of it--the education, of course, and I still have some good friends from there. I met a lot of great people and learned a lot of great things--by no means did I have a bad experience. But I haven't been back.

TDI: What deviated from your expectations so much?

CG: I went to a private Quaker school, and the demographic was pretty similar to Dartmouth. After I graduated, I spent a summer in Africa. I'm embarrassed to say it now, but I had never before that time even been interested in travelling to Africa--the school that I went to had a very narrow cultural scope. It turned out that being on that continent was the most important thing. That was enough for me to reassess what my values were and how large the world was, and find out that there's so much more to this world than what I had put so much value in. Culturally and socially, it opened my eyes a lot. I learned so much about myself.

Coming back, it felt like I was taking a step back, just because I was with the same types of people. It definitely took some adjusting after spending the summer using my mind in a different way. I had to reassess where I fit in. It was a different thing going over there and seeing people on billboards who may not necessarily look like me, but look more like me than the people I see here. That was a huge thing for me, being in a place where you can see yourself--that's a luxury that a lot of people have and may not think about. I came back here and I was sort of angry because I couldn't see myself anywhere. I couldn't see myself there either, and I was sort of in the middle.

I was very silent my first term; everyone thought I was some militant kid. I was wearing all black all the time and I was just sort of quiet and brooding, which is so far from who I am right now. I'm definitely glad that I went to Dartmouth, because I wouldn't be where I am now if I hadn't had that experience. I think it was just part of the journey, in terms of where I'm supposed to be at any given time.

TDI: What did you do after Dartmouth?

CG: I went to this place called Chautauqua for two years--it's modeled after the first year of Juilliard. You perform shows at night and you're the entertainment for the town. So honing that, doing that path. A lot of my friends went to grad school, but what I figured out for myself is that I needed to self-actualize in a way. If I went to grad school, I probably would have been one of those people who just like sits there. There's a certain thing with "professional students" who go from this to this to this and then expect to have everything. That wouldn't have worked for me, because I would have easily been like, OK, where is everything? Give it to me! Personally, I really needed to go out there, do the work, pick up the training, make sure that I knew what I was doing, and do it.

After Chautauqua, I worked with one of my best friends at a studio here in New York. We started doing projects together. That was just a great time to be free and sort of explore things artistically. If I hadn't worked with him, I don't think I would have been able to do Passing Strange. There are certain things I learned from working with him that I was able to take to the show.

And I gave myself the validation. That was one of the biggest things--self-validation. So often in the arts, you look outside of yourself for somebody to tell you that you're worth it or you're good or you're talented. If you're like, "Not only am I good enough, I'm great," then it's a totally different way of being in the world. When you operate from that place, people sort of expect that from you. And distinguishing that from ego, where it's like, "I am great, I'm the greatest"--there's so much to learn and there's so much in this world; at any given time, it's a constant shift.

For me, it was really about my decision to really do it. There was a time when I was working this part-time job and one day I asked for a raise, after being there for like three years. I was like, "I went to Dartmouth! I should be getting more money than this!" My boss was like, "That's ridiculous, are you kidding me?" I quit the job, and I was like, I'm just going to be a full-time actor and that's all I'm going to do. A week later, I booked two jobs out of town, and since then I've been acting full time.

TDI: How did you first get acquainted with Passing Strange?

CG: It was at Stanford. I was just interested in the language and how people were talking and the sort of abstract quality of it. Once we started with the workshop, there were a lot of things we were discussing that aren't discussed that often in theater or even the world--conversations about "passing." Normally, we have these ideas that we can share, but not with the Other; here, we were having these conversations cross-color. Being able to put all of these ideas out there and say we're all doing this together--it's not a black thing, it's not a white thing, it's people--that's what really sort of hooked me into it.

TDI: So the play was a continuation of your search for self?

CG: It was definitely a deep exploration of that. I think the show enabled me to just be who I am, fully embrace all the things that are uniquely me, and really explore and celebrate them. And I related to the story, in terms of fitting in--the main character deals with all these people saying he's not black enough. Because ultimately, what does that mean? What does that mean, black? You have one grandparent that's black and you're black? You put all these people in this category of black, and then you say you're not black enough? There are so many definitions of what it means to be black. You dump everybody into this category, you can't define it, and it sort of has no meaning, but it's also this label you give to so many people.

TDI: Had you known that you wanted to go into musical theater?

CG: When I got to Dartmouth, I was saddened to find out that they didn't do musicals that much. As time went by, it ended up being a really great thing for me because I was able to do Greek drama, restoration comedy, lots of different things. I really didn't miss it, and when I got out of school, I didn't want to do musicals. My heart wasn't in it. When Passing Strange came along, it was a nice hybrid where I was able to be an actor--which is what I was very much interested in being--while utilizing as much of my other talents as possible. I just did a workshop with a new musical last week and it was sort of jarring to be in that world after playing outside of the structure for the past three years.

TDI: So, do you not even consider Passing Strange a musical?

CG: Yeah, I wasn't really calling it that until they decided there were awards to be given out. It's such a special hybrid of so many different forms. There are so many different categories it can fall into. If you go in there expecting a musical, you're going to be disappointed because that's not what you're going to get. So I guess I was calling it a play with music or a rock concert smashed together with a play.

TDI: How do you get pumped up for every performance?

CG: It's that the people I'm about to share this with haven't seen it before, or if they have, they want to see a good show--no one's paying to see your bad day. I think we were all working from this place of, "We've got to make this great." That's it; there's no other option. I always remind myself, Why am I here? Why am I doing this? If I ask myself those questions, then it's easy. You can't get caught up in the, "[sigh] My knee hurts again," or "My ankle is still not better." And if you're like, Why aren't these people laughing, or Where is everybody in the crowd, thinking about those little things, you're fucked. Once the music starts, it just goes, so there's nothing to do but be in it, and everybody else is depending on you on the stage. It really doesn't take that much work--Rebecca (Naomi Jones) does something funny and you're like "Oh my God" and then you're in it.

TDI: You play multiple parts in the show: you go from Christophe, a free-spirited stoner in Amsterdam, to Hugo, a militant Marxist in Berlin. How do you make that transition?

CG: They are two people that fundamentally believe in how they live, but they have different ideas about the world. Christophe is a lot more free-spirited and "Live and let live, let's have a good time." Hugo's like, "This is how things go, and anything outside of this is bullshit." So it's really, for me, just about tapping into the mindset of these people and realizing that everyone lives all the time as gradations of these things. I think everyone in the world has their idea of what the truth is. Once you realize that your truth doesn't have to be the same as someone else's truth, a lot of things get easier. So, really, finding out what each of these characters' truths are, and investing fully in those, whether or not they're things I agree with or how I would behave. There is a truth of the character, the story that needs to be told, and that anchors your performance.

TDI: Didn't you say once that you want to be Christophe when you grow up?

CG: It's like music--your taste in characters changes. There was a time when we were at Berkeley when I was so Christophe [laughs]. So, "Whatever you want, it's totally possible, all we have to do is love each other and we don't need to think about anything else." And that served me for a while, and it served me pretty well. Christophe loves. He's just really open to whatever, and that's a beautiful thing.

Woman on Street: I thought you were so goooood!!! Sorry. I saw you at Berkeley, at the Public, and on Broadway. I love your show. Are you having an interview about this right now? Ohhhhhh!!! I'm Ariella, by the way.

TDI: Do you get that a lot?

CG: A little bit, yeah. It's really nice, especially for something that I'm proud of. There's nothing wrong with reality TV, but it's not like I was on the Real World and people are like, "Ohmigawd you were on the Real World!" Whenever someone stops and says, "That show meant so much to me," it's a really nice thing.

TDI: Do you read the reviews?

CG: Usually I don't. This show, I would skim them. I never really listened to what anybody said about what needs to change or whatever. I just looked to see if they said nice things about me.

TDI: One called you "particularly sharp," another called you "versatile," and another called you "amusing and a little scary."

CG: That's my favorite!

TDI: Is it gratifying to see those?

CG: It's really nice, you know. I try not to put so much stock into them--I mean, that's the main reason I don't like to read them, because if you get caught up in either direction, you're fucked, basically. If someone tells you that you suck, you're like, "God, I fucking suck." Then someone says you're great and you're like, "I'm great!" You can't live like that. But of course it's nice when people say nice things. Guess I'm still figuring that one out.

TDI: What were the Tony's like?

CG: It was a cool day, really. The rehearsal stage was like an MGM lot from back in the day--you've got sailors over here, jailbirds over here, gazelles over there, just all these different people in one place. I remember thinking, This is really great--not only do I get to perform on this show that I've watched for years, but I'm doing something that I really love with people that I love. That was sort of overwhelming for me for a moment, just being grateful for that. We had a show that afternoon and Ellen Burstyn was there. She came backstage and she was talking about the show, and how this is it, and she started to cry. Then Colman (Domingo) started to cry, then Eisa (Davis) started to cry, and we're just like crying backstage because this woman who is amazing is appreciating what we've done. That moment was so wonderful; I think that was the biggest moment. It was like, you know what, we did this, no matter what happens tonight. Nobody expected this show to be here; nobody expected this to exist, and not only does it exist, it's doing something--it's living and it's thriving and it's touching people. I went outside and there were people waiting there, and this girl was like, "This was the first Broadway show I've ever seen. I don't know what to say." And I just gave her a hug.

TDI: You talk a lot about the influence of your parents. How important has their support been?

CG: They're extremely, extremely supportive. They came to the show almost 40 times while we were on Broadway. The days when they weren't there, other people were like, "We haven't seen your parents in a while, where are they?" They will do anything for me, and it took me a while to really appreciate that. My parents have just been so loving--they've never wanted me to do anything I didn't want to do. When I was at Dartmouth, so many people hid from their parents that they were in shows, and they wouldn't major in theater because their parents wouldn't have it. With my parents, it was always whatever made me happy, and they have always maintained that. It helps so much, especially when you're doing anything in the arts or anything that's "unconventional." Because there are so many people that say, "It's hard, it's hard," and look at you with that sort of face--to have people that have guided you up to this point supporting you in that way is a really important thing, I think.

TDI: You said once that no one is given a dream without the opportunity to fulfill it. What's your advice to the recently graduated 20-something who's struggling to find success and living in squalor as an artiste?

CG: Clean your apartment. I mean, I'm by no means an expert--I'm just at the beginning of my journey. That said, I was inspired by my friends Mindy (Kaling) and Brenda (Withers). I was living with them when I had just graduated, and they were working on this play in our apartment called Matt and Ben. The attention and focus they had with it was like, "We're doing this. This is what we're doing and it's going to be a success." And it was. They ran Off-Broadway for a while and it's published and people all over have done it. Mindy was also like, "I'm going to get to this point, this is where I want to be," and now she's on The Office. It was that sort of focus and clear determination, fully allowing yourself to be what you can be, accepting where you are, not necessarily knowing what's going happen next, and being OK with that.

For me, it had to do with accepting what I loved and pushing out all these other ideas about what I should be doing. If you let yourself be what you can be, things will happen. Doors will open up for you if you let go of some of your stories that don't serve you. I've never said that I'm a starving artist. That's not what I'm doing, because that doesn't sound like fun to me. What sounds like fun to me is doing projects that are really inspiring to me as an artist and going on vacations and all that stuff. I think about the things that make me happy instead of listening to people who are like, "It's hard, it's hard, it's hard." It's about putting a different idea inside your head: "It's easy, it's easy, it's easy, I can do it, I can do it, whatever it is." There's something to that way of thinking. It can activate you. If you can find something that can take you toward what you want, then it's easy.