I'm in my middle school bathroom, school has already ended. I'm alone. The video camera facing me counts down: 3… 2… 1…
I begin singing, acting, using my whole body to show how devastated I am because my “one feather tail” makes me less attractive than all of the other birds. When I’m done singing I run up to my phone and check the video. I rewatch it and find a million things I can do to improve my performance, thinking that I made so many mistakes, comparing myself to the Broadway cast of Seussical. I didn’t have enough time to redo the video, so I edited it and sent it to my high school application portal.
Before, I never really considered musical theater as a thing that I would be good at. I always thought that I wasn’t meant to be watched or admired by other people. But, in middle school I thought that the kids in the drama club were so cool. The thing I admired most about them was their confidence in their abilities and stage presence.
I eventually joined my middle school drama club in the second half of 7th grade because my friend told me that they might let me help with the props. When I got there they made me audition for the musical and I didn't try out for a lead. I was petrified of getting in front of the teachers and having them sit there and judge me as I was singing.
That night, the cast list came out and I saw my name underneath the ensemble. And I felt excited? When we did the show I felt like I was part of a community of people who I could support and wanted to support me.
Throughout the rest of middle school I kept auditioning for shows and I even got a lead role in the 8th grade. When I was on stage all I could think about was people judging me for being untalented. I thought so much about not meeting people’s expectations of me that I didn’t pay attention to having fun with my friends.
The bathroom audition helped get me into a performing arts high school where I found a new community of people who I learned to feel comfortable with. In sophomore year I auditioned for The Prom. I got a lead again, this time she was the villain. I wanted my performance to be perfect and I would get upset when I forgot my lines or blocking. My castmates saw that I was having trouble, so they would hype me up before I went on stage. By the dress rehearsal I felt much more comfortable in the character and was able to get on stage without second guessing myself. Those performances I barely paid attention to what the audience thought of me and if I was portraying the character perfectly.
Now I’m a senior standing alongside my castmates. Five minutes before the show starts. We’re all holding hands and doing our pre-show ritual of “passing the pulse” by squeezing each other's hands around the circle. I look around at everyone there: people I've known since freshman year and the friends that I’ve made as I’ve grown up at this school. I feel so grateful for this art and how it’s driven me to grow into the person that I am today.
The pulse has made it back to my director, they give us a speech and tell us to leave everything on the stage. Everyone cheers, excitement fills the room, and we start heading to the stage. When I get to places, the orchestra finishes the overture. The curtain opens and I can see all of the faces in front of me, smiling at something that I helped create. And I feel so light.