When it came to approaching theater for the first time in his young but well-established career, Karan Brar hoped to tread lightly, but with serious intent. Which appears to be how the former child actor, known for roles on beloved Disney series Jessie and Bunk’d, and in the Diary of a Wimpy Kid movies, approaches just about everything in his life.

“I had gotten a theater audition last year and my agent was just like, ‘I don’t know if this piece is what you’re going to be into,'” Brar says during a lively video call. “And I ended up loving the piece, but there was some miscommunication, dah, dah, dah, dah. I didn’t get to audition for it, and I was like, ‘Whatever. I’ll be in New York top of the year, maybe something will happen.'”

Having worked practically nonstop in film and television as a kid in Los Angeles, Brar, now 25, recently switched coasts, intent on tackling the stage.

“I go to New York, and I decide to meet with theater agents there, and I was like, ‘Hey, look, I understand every film and television actor is coming to you right now and being like, Put me in theater. Put me somewhere, because there’s no film and television jobs. If there’s a reading, if there’s something I can do, just let me know. I understand these things take time to build.'”

A couple weeks later, the actor, with dozens of credits for his work onscreen and voicing animated characters, booked the audition for what would become his theatrical debut, in Matthew Libby’s chilling new techno-thriller Data at Arena Stage.

In the world-premiere production, Brar leads the four-person ensemble as Maneesh, a programmer at a data-mining firm who is enlisted for an insidious project. As depicted in the play, human lives already run on computer-based algorithms and artificial intelligence, and AI might also be deployed to judge human lives, determining for a nation or government who is worthy of being considered welcome.

It’s a terrifying prospect, in general, and particularly to Maneesh, who, like Brar, is a son of immigrants from India and also identifies as queer. In the play, Maneesh just happens to mention that he’s gay. By a notable contrast, Brar publicly came out as bisexual in a thoughtful, well-received essay published a year ago in Teen Vogue.

Yet, the actor found the similarities between himself and the character uncanny. “All of Maneesh’s experiences are parallel to my experiences,” Brar marvels.

“To the point where when I was reading the play in my living room, I yelled out to my roommate that very iconic Euphoria quote where it’s like, ‘Bitch, is this fucking play about us?’ Because I was like, ‘This is insane. If I don’t book this, I don’t know who will.’ Not that I’m the most talented person in the room, but I was just like, ‘This is my lived experience.'”

He found a way during the audition process to make that point to the playwright, informing Libby, “I love what you wrote,” and also, “This is kind of my life, and this is extraordinary.” Finally cast in the role, Brar says he went into his first theater production full of excitement.

“Because in my internal world, I’ve been able to feel a bit more comfortable and confident in my skills than I have in a very long time,” he says. Referencing his Disney-honed professional work ethic, the actor also seems to be alluding to the storm of events and emotions that, for a considerable time, had shaken his confidence.

As Brar chronicled in his starkly revealing Teen Vogue essay, titled “How I Found Myself,” the typical growing pains of shifting from teens to twenties were exacerbated in his case by career doubts, confusion about his sexuality, depression, substance abuse, and even suicidal thoughts.

And, in 2019, after Brar had moved out of his parents’ house into a place with his best friends, and former Disney castmates, Cameron Boyce and Sophie Reynolds, tragedy struck. Boyce, only 20, died suddenly, due to an epileptic seizure, forever changing the trajectory of his dear friends’ lives.

“Just so much happened in the short time that me, Cameron, and Sophie lived together,” Brar says, recalling that he had come out to his two roommates not long before Boyce died. “I was really glad that he knew. And in some ways it’s just like I didn’t need to tell him to know what his response was going to be.” Brar also can imagine how his friend might feel now about seeing him make his stage debut.

“Cam was my biggest cheerleader,” says Brar. “He believed in me in ways that I couldn’t even fathom believing in myself. And I just know how proud he would be. I’ve been thinking a lot about that during this play. I think it was a really special experience to do a performance in front of our other best friend, Sophie Reynolds. And all I could think about was, I know how he would feel. I know how he would react. I know how I would be able to hear his laugh and pick it out of everyone’s laughs in that audience.”

METRO WEEKLY: So, it’s the day after Thanksgiving. I presume you don’t live in Washington. When you’re not working, whether you’re on location or at home, what are the things you like to do with yourself?

BRAR: I think that what’s funny is, recently, during the [Screen Actors Guild] strikes, I was really just sitting with myself, and I ended up picking up a hobby for the first time in ten years. My mom was like, “You’ve never had a hobby.” And I was like, “I know.” Because work is what I focus on. Even when I’m not working, I’m just thinking about what I can be doing regarding my career. And I ended up picking up surfing. Surfing has become a new hobby of mine, which is such a bizarre thing to pick up right before moving to the East Coast, because it’s less accessible in New York City than it is in Los Angeles.

I think a lot of the time, as boring of an answer as it is, I just really like spending time with my people and hanging out with them. Nothing too exciting. I’ve really leaned on running, as of lately. I mean, I’m just going to admit it, I’m a little bit of a self-improvement junkie. So, I love to read a good self-help book, and sometimes I love to do a deep dive on a category of my life that I’m maybe trying to take inventory of. And so, those are the kind of things that I do in my free time.

MW: I was surprised to read that Data marks your theatrical debut, because I saw the show and you were great.

BRAR: Oh, thank you.

MW: How have the nerves been? Was this an intimidating line to cross for you?

BRAR: I would say I’ve been intimidated to approach theater for years. On Jessie, I worked with the legendary Kevin Chamberlin. He’s been nominated for three Tonys, Broadway is his home, and he told us about the respect and intensity around theater. You can approach film and television and know nothing about it, and I think that if you are a film buff, it’s like, “Oh, great, amazing, you know French noir. Good for you.” But I would say I’m less cultured than the average person in film and television. And no one really chastises you for that.

I’m not saying the equivalent happens on Broadway or in theater in general, but there is a culture. There is a respect of history and tradition. To be in that world is to know the history of that world. And especially as a film actor coming in, I’ve always known that there are people who make this transition, or step into that world, typically, and they don’t tread lightly. Maybe they don’t realize the space that they’re taking up, and they don’t realize that at the end of the day, in many ways, I can be taking away a job from a theater actor who has been grinding for quite some time. So, the space is very delicate and I have a lot of respect for it.

MW: You’re on stage literally the whole play. It starts, it’s ninety minutes, and it doesn’t stop. What is that feeling like, that once you’re on, the ride isn’t going to stop until it’s over?

BRAR: Oof, yeah. I’ve had to learn some tricky lessons in the process, such as I need to eat before I get onstage. I hate to admit it, but there are some times I’ve been onstage where I’m starving and all I’m thinking about is my DoorDash order after this. I know I’m supposed to be crying in the scene and maybe I am shedding a couple of tears in this, but what I’m really thinking about is my DoorDash order.

I think it’s been a lesson in stamina. I think also, I really had to rely on the quote a great director told me, years and years ago, when I was doing a run-through for Jessie, and I was really frustrated because I wasn’t doing a good run-through. I didn’t feel like I was hitting my jokes as well as I could. And then what that means is the writers are going to rewrite a lot of the jokes because then I’m paranoid like, “Oh, they think I can’t deliver on the joke,” and whatever. And she just told me, “Just remember, the next line can save the show.” And I was like, “Okay. Wow, that’s really helpful.” And that’s what I’ve been reminding myself of.

Also, I think I’ve had to make eye contact with a lot of my frustrations with acting in this process. I think there is the piece that delivers a message, and you deliver that message, you do the performance that you have scored and orchestrated by prepping. You prep everything, you do the backstory, whatever, you do your vocal warmups, whatever you can to produce that performance. And then, there’s this X factor that you have no control over as a performer. And you’ll get onstage sometimes and that X factor will hit and you’ll just be like, “I didn’t even know I was capable of a performance like this. I didn’t even know I could feel this confident onstage or on set,” or whatever it might be. And when everyone feels that X factor, it’s like you’re rushing to get the take. The director’s like, “I’m going to quickly give you this note. Let’s go again. Let’s go again.” Or, when you’re onstage, you just feel like, “This is the show!” And it’s a matinee and there’s only six people in the audience and you’re like, “No one else is going to witness this.”

And as I’ve now learned, you can’t replicate it, you just can’t. That X factor will come and go as it pleases, and all you have to do is hold steady regardless of what happens. And then I try to remind myself, sometimes I’m up there in the transitions, the blackouts, and I’m just like, “I’m hating my performance. I don’t love what I’m doing. This is not great.” And I’m like, “The next line can save the show. The next line can save the show. The next line can save the show.”

MW: Data could not be more relevant or timely as it relates to the incoming administration’s position on immigrants and deportation.

BRAR: The piece was originally written in 2018. The playwright had revealed that to us. So, the fact that it’s still even relevant, and it feels like it’s just at the tip of your tongue, is quite jarring. What I love about this play is that it’s an accurate portrayal of life and how you will go through life. And one thing I’ve had to come to terms with as an adult is that the world is not black and white, and you will not get anywhere by viewing it as black and white. It is black, white, and gray all at the same time, constantly shifting between those shades. And you have to live in that discomfort of being like, “I know when something is absolutely right and when something is absolutely wrong and when something is the gray area, and I have to sift through that.”

And this play firmly exists in that gray area where people are convincing themselves of an argument that is deeply flawed, or struggling to accept an argument that is deeply valid. My parents are immigrants, and one thing that I’ve been discussing in some of the talkbacks has been trying to create efficiency in large structures, whether it be corporate, private, or public, like the government. That makes sense. I think when you look at the presentation scene, my thought process through that is, “Okay, Homeland Security wants to streamline. That makes sense. Making a government program more efficient, that makes sense.”

The issue then becomes, you’re asking something that’s not human to make a decision about humans.

And I just think that, like with my parents’ story, and I love them deeply, and have a profound level of respect for them, but my father was a first generation immigrant here, and I don’t think if a computer read his application, he would have been some kind of standout candidate that would appeal to the ideals being put out in this play by the antagonist.

And yet, my parents together have done tremendous amounts of good in their community. And if there was a number on their head that the government had about what they needed to do to offset their existence as immigrants in this country, I think they’ve not only met that number, but exceeded that number on a monetary, on an emotional, on a societal level, in so many ways. But I don’t think that can be decided by a computer. Potential is a thing that is, I think, best felt by humans and is best understood by humans. And potential is such an important part of our lives. We think about potential when we think about jobs, when we think about partners, when we think about anything.

MW: Yeah. Romance, childbirth, everything.

BRAR: All of it. And that’s what so much of immigration is, is seeing the potential in people. And whoever, what immigration officer was overseeing my father’s application, I have no idea, but they felt an intrinsic level of potential regardless of how minor that might’ve been. And I think that has led to a tremendous amount of good, and a computer can’t do that.

MW: Going into Data, we need to know what AI is capable of in general, and the play deals more specifically with all kinds of things it can do. In preparation for the role and in doing the play, have you learned anything about AI that is not alarming?

BRAR: That is not alarming? Oh, that’s such a good question. No, I can’t say. I mean, it’s so tricky because it creates a tremendous amount of friction inside of me. I like to joke that — not joke, sometimes it’s literal — I spent my childhood in the back room of a 7-Eleven.

My parents owned a 7-Eleven and a Subway sandwich franchise, and I would spend my summers sometimes just in the back room with them. And so, efficiency is a really big thing for me. Dedication, efficiency, being concise — a lot of what AI is proposing does that. But in so many ways, that comes against my sheer existence as an artist. And I know we’re really exploring that right now, the legality of that in Hollywood. But I think it comes into question, is this something that we need to make more efficient? So much of the human experience is just experiencing the mundane of it. Yeah, I’m sure if you train an AI software well enough, it can crank out a pretty decent screenplay, but there’s something about art that requires an intrinsic level of humanity.

MW: What about social media? How do you try to control your presence there? What do you do to try to fit it into your life comfortably?

BRAR: I think, right now, it takes too much space in my life. I mean, no one really loves the space that social media or online usage takes up in their life. It’s not a great feeling, but also, it’s a staple of our life. It’s in many ways inescapable. And I think especially part of my job, it does require me to have some kind of relationship with it.

As a young, bisexual, queer man, I think one thing that’s been challenging has been [that] I feel like I’m back to being in middle school, when I think that everything I see on the internet is real. I see these other queer men living this kind of life, and I just assume that’s the story, that there isn’t any more complexity to them, or to the story itself. But yeah, in turn, sometimes I find myself reducing a person down to what I want them to be reduced down to. And that’s what I really don’t like about it. I don’t love how it’s impacting my queer experience right now, and I would really like it to be minimized, or a bit more authentic.

MW: I’m going to ask you about your queer experience. First, I wanted to ask you about the essay that you published last year in Teen Vogue, which I thought was beautifully written. Why did you want to write it? Was it difficult to put it out there, or did that just flow out like it needed to come?

BRAR: I’m so flattered that you thought it was well-written because the process of writing that was incredibly tedious, incredibly painful and long, and I had a lot of help. Two of my best friends, Aditya Joshi and Sid Gopinath, who I met as screenwriters, they had just been a part of my journey. For context, they had sent me a screenplay and I’d read the screenplay in 2020, and I was like, “Oh, I really love the screenplay.” And then a week later, I called my agent, I was like, “I’m going to rehab. I gotta go. Bye.”

And then I reconnected with them after I was out of treatment and they were like, “Oh my God, how was your tea retreat?” And I was like, “Excuse me?” And they were like, “Your agent said you were on a tea retreat?” And I was like, “No. No, I was in rehab.” They were like, “Oh, okay.” And we’d been developing this project together, and in that process, right out of treatment, they had seen me evolve through all of this and really knew my story on a personal level. And then, I got to a point where I was just like, if you happened to be at a gay bar in Los Angeles, you might have run into me. And there was this thing where it’s just like, if you looked through my follow list, you could easily identify, like, “Karan follows a lot of queer, bisexual, lesbian, gay people now all of a sudden. Is there any link there?” Not that anyone was looking into that per se — who gives a fuck about my personal life? But there just felt like a lack of congruency. It’s not that I kept that piece of me away from the public because I cared for my privacy so much. And that’s what bothered me, is that I didn’t have a value on privacy. It felt like I was putting this part of me away as a source of shame, as a source of maybe social preservation.

It was important to me to create congruency. Look, I don’t think there’ll ever be an accurate version of me on the internet. And I think that runs for everyone, but I can at least attempt to do that, and I can at least attempt to create some complexity in that experience or in that version. And I think that with a lot of South Asians, what’s been great has been to see this rise of people being like, “Actually, you were an example of someone I could use to get into the arts, because it’s like Karan’s doing it, so I can do it.” And I would like to believe in some way, I could help contribute to these immigrant parents and their minds opening up a little bit to the possibilities of where their kids could be going, in the same way I want to do that with my identity.

I think if you harbored any level of respect for me prior to that essay, that essay wanted me to challenge those ideas to be like, “I might not look like it, but I struggled with substance abuse. I’ve struggled with suicidal ideations, depression, PTSD. I’ve gone to rehab,” which you literally typically associate with a very particular image. And I wanted to be like, “You might’ve had this image of me, and this is what’s really going on.” And try to merge those together. It felt like a really freeing experience.

MW: I imagine.

BRAR: That morning, I knew when the essay was coming out. It came together the last couple of weeks leading up to the end of November [2023], and we sent in the final notes for it. And to tie this thread, Sid and Aditya actually helped me write the essay. They were basically acting as my editors before we even sent it to any publications. And there was, oh my God, so many Google Docs, so many Google Docs. I got so proficient at using Google Docs.

MW: How did it end up at Teen Vogue? You said other publications.

BRAR: Yeah. We wanted to find the right home for it. The place that felt like the right place to tell the story, that felt authentic to the publication, that felt authentic to me. And when we approached Teen Vogue, it just felt like the right fit for them. It felt like the right fit for me. And they’re a very authentic, vulnerable, and unapologetic platform. And that felt like it represented the values of the essay as well. And so, yeah, it was a lot of back and forth. The first pass was Sid and Aditya going, “5,500 words, just try to do 5,500. Just write.”

I posted it. I drove to Malibu with my surfboard and I left my phone in my car. And yeah, I was just surfing in the ocean with a surf instructor who I was working with. And I got back to my car, and then coincidentally, [Jessie star] Debby Ryan called me and she had caught me —

MW: Coincidentally, or she had read the piece?

BRAR: She read the article, but she had caught me right at the right time. I was out there for two hours or something, and she called me and she was like, “Hey, anything big happen today?” And I had been out to Debby, and she’s been such an amazing confidant to me. And so, we talked about it a little bit and it just felt like a big release.

To summarize this, I had the same feeling I had when I came out to Cameron and Sophie, which is when I came out to them and the next morning when we spoke about it, and they were just like, “You’re an idiot. We love you. Stop this.” I remember a couple hours later they turned to me, they’re like, “Hey, checking in. How are you feeling?” And I was like, “I can’t believe we’re watching TV and you know. I can’t believe.” And I feel like I remember Sophie being like, “Well, what do you mean?” And I was like, “I can’t believe we’re watching TV together, and you guys know.” And that’s what the essay felt like. It was like, “I can’t believe I’m going out in the world, and they know, or they could know.” That’s a piece of information you know about me. And that’s surreal.

MW: Something else I find interesting, your process of getting through this period included Adam Sandler’s Hubie Halloween. Maybe a lot of people don’t know that your role Deli Mike Mundi was a part that Cameron was originally going to play. [Boyce had previously played Sandler’s son in two Grown-Ups movies.] How did it happen that you were cast, and what did it mean to you to do that movie? Because it was a comedy, but, on the other hand, it was obviously a special part for you.

BRAR: That time period, everything in my life had turned on its axis. And I think that there was this bizarre experience that I was going through where I remember, I called my publicist, who’s a really good friend of mine, and I was like, “I’ve never been to an American funeral. Could you help me get a black suit?” People in the fashion industry were just so lovely, and they’re like, “Don’t even think about it. We’ll get him a black suit.” And from that, to finding a new place to live in, to literally organizing his funeral. And then, Cameron’s parents had approached me — Sophie and I were going to their house every single day — and they were just like, “Hey, Adam Sandler had called us. You know Cam was about to leave in two weeks to film this movie. And they’ve asked us, ‘Is there anyone you would like to have step in for Cameron? If not, we can take care of it if you’d like. What is your preference on this?'” And they were like, “There’s no one else we’d want to have do this besides Karan.”

Our families are really close. Victor and Libby, Cameron’s parents, they frequently refer to me as one of their sons, and vice versa, my parents refer to Cameron as their son, and there was a tremendous amount of love there. And I think when I took it on, yeah, it was just like everything was zero to 100. So, I don’t even think I really had time to think or process, and I was like, “Okay, I’m doing a comedy and I’m familiar with that. Maybe I’ll be fine.”

And I think one of the most beautiful things that I could salvage from that experience — not that there was anything to salvage, per se — but one thing I found that I didn’t expect to find was I got to experience this world that Cameron had experienced. And he had spoken about being on a Sandler set so fondly, and I can’t express how true any of those stories are. Just, Adam is the best boss you could have. Adam still checks up on me from time to time, and I’m just some guy he worked with very briefly.

He’s had so many experiences with grief, unfortunately. And he was just so thoughtful, not only checking in on me in the process, but just also making sure… He just has such a fatherly energy. Of course, he has two daughters, but he just knows how to be attentive without being overbearing, and keeping things light and fun when they need to be. And I think it was lovely to connect with people who knew Cameron and hear stories.

I think there was also just the surreal element of, “What’s going on right now? I’m dressed up as Freddie Mercury, it’s two in the morning. Tim Meadows is watching The Bachelorette finale on his phone right next to me. Maya Rudolph is over there talking to Kevin James.” And I’m just in this world where I’m like, “This is really bizarre.” And, of course, all I could think about in that experience is just Cameron’s experience on this. And God, one thing that was undeniable about Cameron is that boy was fucking talented. He was funny. He was smart. And talk about someone who had an X factor to him. All I could think about was just, “Oh God, he would’ve had so much fun.” I can imagine being at home and either him calling or him coming back after the shoot and telling us all the stories. And so, in some ways it was something that I didn’t know I needed, but I think it’s just what I needed in that moment.

MW: Your description of the set reminded me of another question. Have you seen the movie Child Star, Demi Lovato’s documentary about being a child performer. I was wondering if any of that reflected your experiences on sets?

BRAR: I’m trying to recall the documentary now because I think it’s been a second since I watched it. But I do feel like Demi did a really thoughtful job of approaching the subject. And who better to talk about it than Demi Lovato? I think she’s been through the gambit, and she, of anyone, should be able to speak about it and be a leading commentator on it. I think that what I’m excited to see continue being explored in entertainment, even outside of child stardom, is the gray area. What I assume, in corporate America, it’s easier to get black and white about certain issues. It’s easier to distinguish between what’s appropriate, what’s not appropriate, and maybe be able to name the invisible factors that influence certain things. Where, for example, I’ve talked to corporate friends who I’m like, “Oh, well, why do you have to work these insane hours?” It’s like, “Well, we’re younger. We’re the new batch, and it’s expected of us to be readily able to work.”

And I think when it comes to child stardom, when it comes to a crew member, when it comes to any aspect of entertainment, that gray area is significantly larger, and there’s a lot of invisible forces that we haven’t been able to name. And it’s hard for us to articulate for people outside of entertainment, of what’s influencing what.

But I do think one of my truths that I’ve kept coming back to is, I loved my job. I joke that I would’ve been eaten alive in high school if I went to a traditional high school. In many ways, I think my experiences on set allowed me to flourish and become the person that I am today.

That being said, with any experience, there’s going to be the good, bad, and the ugly. And I’m sure, just like any other child actor, I have my laundry list of criticisms and things that I need to make more efficient, or fully correct because it feels immoral and wrong and whatever it might be. What I think I’m excited for most for the public is to engage with the gray area of this industry, where there’s the expectations that aren’t said out loud, but are felt, and the things that are asked of us, regardless of your position in the hierarchy, through a simple glance, and that trickle-down effect.

MW: Did you feel a lot of pressure making a transition from being somebody who’s going to be a kid forever on TV, to a grown man acting onstage, playing mature parts?

BRAR: Yeah. I think that the main thread that everyone can relate to in child acting and child stardom is this feeling of capacity, like, I have capacity for more, in that I want to be able to do more. And I think that there’s this concern of, “I want to keep my career going. I want to keep doing these things. I care about this craft, and this fulfills me and I want to keep doing this.” And I think that’s an inherent drive.

But I also think that to have congruency is a thing that we all crave as people. I think we can all relate to it. I think a boss sometimes looks at their employees going to a happy hour and going, “I wish I could just gab with them and let loose and engage. And to a certain extent, I can’t because I am their superior.” I think that there is the middle schooler going into his freshman class and wanting to be perceived as one of the cool people. Everyone wants to be seen and understood in a more full way. That’s such a human experience, to be understood, to be seen, to be viewed as a whole person with their complexities, everyone can relate to that.

And I think where it becomes highlighted in that transition is that I think when you work in a space that is kids entertainment, I think it’s easy to feel one-dimensional, and I think it’s easy for society to view you as one-dimensional, not in terms of your talents, but just as a human being. There’s so much more to you. And I think that there’s an eagerness to fill out that picture, to color it in a little bit more, just as anyone wants to do. You do that when you’re a teenager and you’re like, you want to be the one who has all the cool song recommendations and you know all these cool indie bands that no one’s ever heard of. I think what it really boils down to is less of a rebellion and more of a desire to be understood and be viewed as a full person.

MW: I want to return to Data and ask you about Maneesh, and what you were saying about how the part is like your lived experience. The character is gay. It doesn’t really turn the plot that much, but it definitely informs the character. For you, what is the relevance of Maneesh being gay, not only as it relates to your also being a queer person, but just to the play?

BRAR: How dare you? [Laughs.] My queerness informs every single aspect of my life from the coffee I buy– Actually, wait. Your sexuality does fully inform the coffee you buy. Oh my God, isn’t it such a lovely element in there? I think that sometimes when you add textural elements or layers, either it can feel contrived or forced, whatever it might be. And I think it was just so lovely in there. I think what it adds is, I think it pushes the typical immigrant Indian story that you hear forward. The South Asian community and the Asian community as a whole, we’ve talked about this, “Okay, great, girl, we’ve talked about overbearing parents, we get it, doctor or lawyer, we’ve talked about it. Homophobic, racist, whatever. We’ve talked about it.” How do we progress the story forward?

And this is a simple moment in which this representation is progressed a little bit forward, which is like, yeah, there are so many South Asian parents who have gay and lesbian children, queer and trans, and they have the capacity to understand. And they get to a place where they can be in acceptance of it, maybe not in the most ideal fashion, maybe there’s still a little bit of friction there, but that still happens. It’s so relevant to who I am. My parents, they obviously know about my sexuality. I came out to them two years before I even released the essay. And for them, of course, it was a learning curve. Of course, it took time for them to digest that, but they’re also parents who know. And as a baseline, they accept me as who I am. And I don’t think that’s too far-fetched to imagine in a story that that’s happening.

MW: So, how often do you get recognized as Jessie‘s Ravi Ross? Like, every day?

BRAR: Ooh. I would say it’s actually, since moving to New York, it’s turned to every day. I think what I’ve come to realize is that I was working on a show that was making television for kids my age. And so, I was at work a majority of the day. And then, if I would go out into the world, if I ever had to go shopping, it was in the morning, it was before 3 p.m. Like, I was in there, I was out of there. There were certain spaces that I just knew, I was like, “Okay, this is probably going to have a lot of kids my age.” And then, by the time I was supposed to go to college, I realized, “Oh, those kids are all tucked away in college right now. They’re all centralized into one place.”

And then since moving to New York, even my roommate, [fellow Disney series alum] Landry Bender and I have been like, “Wow, this is happening a lot more than usual.” And then I’m like, “Well, now that I connect the dots, these people who grew up watching the show are out in the real world. They’re the people who I email to file my taxes. I engage with them on a regular basis.” And sometimes it’s jarring because I’m just like, “Oh, wow, you grew up watching my show.” And it’s also, it throws me off when I meet people that are kids, ten-year-olds, because Bunk’d has been on the air for quite some time, and I’m surprised how many generations it’s transcended, Jessie and Bunk’d. So, it happens quite frequently that the age as to who recognizes me is always up for grabs. Who’s to say who it’s going to be? A 9-year-old or a 29-year-old?

Data runs through Dec. 15 at Arena Stage, 1101 6th St. SW. Tickets are $75 to $109. Call 202-488-3300, or visit www.arenastage.org.

Follow Karan Brar on Instagram at @karanbrar.