“It Wasn’t About the Money” — What Producing a Stage Show Taught Me About the True Nature of Crowdfunding and What Really Matters

In my previous column, I wrote about how “small, steady steps become giant leaps toward your dreams.” It was about using reverse thinking and starting with small workshops.

After that, I faced a new question:

“How do you get people to support not just your work, but the challenge behind it?”

In this column, I want to share one answer I discovered through trial and error while producing my first stage show in Canada, STAND.

Does Support Just Come When You Launch a Crowdfunding Campaign?

“Before my visa expires, I want to create something here in Vancouver.”

That rough goal eventually evolved into producing the stage play STAND. And immediately, I hit a wall: funding.

The production cost was about $6,800 CAD (approximately ¥780,000). Ticket prices had a cap, and after factoring in fees, ticket sales alone wouldn’t cover it. In many independent productions, organizers pay out of their own pockets. That’s what I initially thought I’d have to do.

But being in Canada on a working holiday visa meant grants and loans weren’t realistic options.

More importantly, I had this thought: “I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.”

“I want to keep creating.”

If one show leaves me unable to continue, what’s the point? That’s when crowdfunding appeared as an option.

But does launching a campaign mean support will just appear?

The answer was clearly “NO.”

What Do Supporters Actually Want From a Project?

I’ve backed several projects myself. My desire to support was always genuine, but sometimes I’d think: “What a waste.”

Those were projects where I never found out if the work was completed, how the film festival went—projects that just ended without any updates.

Also, many projects offer original T-shirts as rewards, but honestly, I often thought: “I didn’t support this because I wanted a T-shirt.”

If you take that $30 and subtract the cost of making and shipping the T-shirt, how much actually goes toward creating the work? I want my support money to go as directly as possible toward production costs and paying the cast.

“What do the projects I genuinely want to support have in common?”

The answer I reached was simple:

Support = Encouragement.

What supporters really want is for you to respond sincerely to their “Go for it!” cheers. Transparency and honesty—those are what create the feeling of “I want to support this.”

What crowdfunding should gather isn’t money, but “trust.”

So how do you become someone people want to support?

So how do you become someone people want to support?

The answer isn’t flashy project design or attractive rewards. It’s something incredibly ordinary: “Cherishing the people right in front of you every day.”

“There are no shortcuts. Daily accumulation is everything.”

In fact, almost everyone who supported STAND was “someone I’d met before, someone who’d helped me.”

Including supporters from Japan, they were all people I had some connection with.

As I mentioned in my previous column, I’d been actively meeting people since coming to Vancouver. I held small workshops, showed up on film sets as an extra, helped out when people were short-handed, and always attended friends’ events.

But when I actually needed support, the only people I could rely on were those I’d met through these daily efforts.

Of course, I contacted people so persistently that some left me on read or unfollowed me. Some even said “You’re seriously annoying, stop contacting me” and blocked me.

There were moments when I nearly gave up, but there were also people who said “Good luck!” and supported me.

“If I don’t bow my head, if I don’t commit myself, then who will?”

If they’d only seen me working hard “just for today,” they probably wouldn’t have supported me. It was because I’d always held onto my conviction, decided I would absolutely make it happen, and kept moving—that’s why people supported me.

There was no cool, smart strategy anywhere. All there was: muddy, unglamorous, steady effort that nobody would envy.

Thank you, everyone. Truly.

What I Gained Through Crowdfunding

In the end, 62 people contributed about $3,200 CAD (approximately ¥350,000). It might not seem like a huge number, but “62” is a number with real weight for me—I can picture every single face.

I believe what we gathered through this crowdfunding wasn’t just money.

“Trust” was definitely built as well.

Thanks to everyone, we were able to pay cast and crew guarantees before the show opened and still finish in the black. This meant my challenge could continue.

This fact of “being able to continue” is incredibly important. Draining all your savings in one go, then having to rebuild your finances afterward—that’s not a healthy way to challenge yourself.

Creating excellent work is a given. But entertainment and art can sometimes exist on self-satisfaction alone. Behind the words “I’m doing this because I love it,” there are sometimes people—especially cast and crew—who end up suffering.

That’s why I don’t want to look away from that responsibility.

That said, I’ve only done this once. The next project will be where my real ability is tested.

To Become Someone People Support, There Are No Shortcuts

Through this challenge, I became certain of one thing.

Of course, perfect presentations and attractive reward designs matter when executing a project. But what matters even more is something incredibly basic: “Cherishing the people right in front of you every day.”

However, this “basic thing” takes time.

If you only seek immediate results, it might feel “inefficient.” But daily accumulation comes back as “support” when you need it most.

In the end, in any challenge, “trust” is the foundation. That trust can’t be built in a day, and there are no shortcuts.

What I found this time was a version of myself who doesn’t look for shortcuts, but chooses to walk the steady, reliable path. It’s still a work in progress, but this is one answer I’ve reached.