As a student at Dobie Middle School, Zell Miller III didn’t land in theater class because he had a craving to steal the spotlight; the renowned poet had planned to become a journalist. But when it came time to choose electives, his mother overruled him, deciding that his “good memory and big mouth” made him a natural fit for the performing arts.
Several decades later, Miller said his mother’s instincts proved right, in no small part thanks to the “life-changing” education he received at a crucial moment in Jerry Miller’s theater department.
It was that early introduction, Miller said, that pushed him to excel in school productions, pursue community theater and add performing arts to his love of poetry.
Now, as he prepares to launch a nonprofit theater organization designed to engage students through school partnerships and summer programs, Miller hopes to recreate that spark for a new generation of Austin youth.
“What’s a beautiful thing for me is to be able to walk into a school and do a poem and then see the reaction of the kids,” he said. “And hopefully they're like, 'Oh, I wanna take that class.’ … What if I had somebody like me who walked into a school when I was that age?”
The new nonprofit, Black Rose ATX, represents a structural shift for Miller, following the closure of his longtime production company, ZM3 Live, late last year. That company folded after more than two decades after failing to get a grant from the city’s cultural arts funding program. Miller has said the closure wasn’t about stepping away from art, but about recognizing the limits of a model that relied too heavily on a single source of support.
Black Rose ATX, which became a nonprofit in July, is designed to attract private and public funding, with the goal of finding stability that ZM3 lacked. The organization has assembled a board with experience in arts administration, fundraising and youth services, allowing Miller to pursue a broader mix of grants, donations and partnerships. It also allows the group to expand its mission beyond the stage, pairing theater productions with educational programming aimed at children and teens.
If funding comes through in the city’s next round of arts grants, Miller said Black Rose’s first production would be a hip-hop–inflected adaptation of Aesop’s fables, followed by additional shows over the next year. Hyde Park Theatre, where Miller staged his ZM3 farewell performance, will serve as the company’s home base.
With youth programming as a priority, Black Rose plans to launch seasonal art camps, with summer, spring break and holiday sessions aimed at students in elementary school through high school.
The camps are envisioned as hands-on, artist-led programs that blend theater, writing and performance, designed as both a creative outlet and a practical entry point at a time when arts offerings in schools have become increasingly uneven across Austin and Texas as a whole.
The group’s goal is to create spaces where students can explore storytelling, movement and voice together, guided by working artists who are paid a living wage to teach. Rather than leading toward a final, large production, Miller said, the sessions will focus on expression and experimentation.
Miller said participation would be offered at a moderate cost, with a portion of spots reserved for scholarships to ensure access for families who might otherwise be priced out. If grant funding allows, the longer-term goal is to offer programming directly in schools at no cost to students, beginning with pilot partnerships before expanding more broadly.
"This isn’t just about creating art for the sake of creating art. It’s about listening to what communities are experiencing right now and responding in a way that gives young people a place to process that, and to be seen.”Board member Melissa Villarreal
Board member Melissa Villarreal, who has led and advised multiple arts and community nonprofits in Austin, said the emphasis on youth reflects both the current moment and the organization’s broader philosophy. As schools close across Austin and after-school programs are cut, she said, families are often left scrambling to fill gaps that disproportionately affect Black and brown communities.
“This isn’t just about creating art for the sake of creating art,” Villarreal said. “It’s about listening to what communities are experiencing right now and responding in a way that gives young people a place to process that, and to be seen.”
Beyond youth programming, Black Rose intends to broaden the range of voices featured onstage. Miller said the company plans to collaborate with local artists and eventually build a core group of company members, with a focus on amplifying Black women’s perspectives alongside other historically underrepresented voices.
For now, the organization remains in its early stages, with much of its first year dependent on funding and partnerships still taking shape. But for Miller, the motivation is clear. The class he never planned to take changed his life, and with a diverse board providing support, he wants Black Rose to be around long enough to open similar doors for the next generation.
“Before, it was basically me and my wife running everything. Now I have a board, and I have to be more disciplined,” he said. “I’m not just saying, ‘Hey, I think I’m going to do this.’ I have people who can look at it from different angles.”
Villarreal said that long-term sustainability depends less on any single grant or production than on whether the organization does a good job of reaching out to the community to learn about the stories that need to be told. Also crucial, she said, will be building a mix of public funding, private donations and earned support to keep Black Rose flexible and accountable to the people it serves. Relying on multiple sources, she said, allows the organization to plan beyond a single production or grant cycle and respond more directly to shifting needs.
“When you’re doing something right by the community, and you’re being transparent and have integrity, people want to be a part of that,” she said.
