As I begin to write this article, I am seated on the floor of the stage in a theater that feels like home. I am surrounded by theater chaos, but also beauty. We’re three weeks away from opening our fall play, “Too Much Light Makes the Baby Go Blind – 30 plays in 60 minutes” (buy tickets!). It’s crazy and chaotic, especially when everyone from freshman to seniors are working on this play. There are people that have a lot of experience as well as people that don’t. But I think the cool thing about theater, especially high school theater, is that both ways are welcome.
When I first started performing, I was a freshman and I didn’t really know who I was, so I signed up to audition for the fall play that year, ”Peter and the Starcatcher,” because I thought it looked fun. I thought, why not, I don’t have a lot else on my plate right now? I’m just a freshman.
When I walked into auditions, I was immediately greeted by upperclassmen who wanted to get to know me just for the sake of getting to know me. It was one of the first times that I can remember feeling comfortable being myself so quickly.
I think that this comfort probably doesn’t happen in theater everywhere, but it’s one of the biggest strengths of the Fort Worth Country Day theater department. This comfort allowed me to be myself, find my voice by performing, to grow a new brand of confidence that I didn’t even know existed. It allowed me to find friends that I now hold dearly and allowed me to learn a lot about myself and how I work. Theater has given me an identity, and while it is not my whole identity, it is a large part of it.
Since freshman year, I have been a part of four successful shows at FWCD. “Peter and the Starcatcher,” “Matilda Jr.,” “The One Act Play that Goes Wrong,” and “SIX: Teen Edition.” I am currently working on two right now, the previously mentioned “Too Much Light Makes the Baby Go Blind: 30 Plays in 60 Minutes,” and “Elf Jr.,” which I am Student Directing. And although it is a lot of work, I cannot think of a single time when I have not looked forward to our two-hour nightly rehearsal.
I look forward to it, but not just because of the snacks and cool air conditioning in the hot Texas weather. I look forward to it because of the company. The people, who at the beginning of rehearsals are strangers, become friends, and sometimes, family. As I’m looking around the stage right now, three of my friends are performing a play with no lines, but it is a symbol for finding new love and new beginnings. I think that it’s a perfect metaphor for each show you do. Every show you complete, you think that it — and that cast and crew that make it happen — are the best it could ever be. But then you start the next show, and you fall in love all over again.
To my right, one of my friends lays across the stage on her phone, half paying attention, half ignoring the world. In front of her, two freshmen whisper, in a world of their own. Across from them, there is a gaggle of sophomores working on homework.
I know all of their names, and although I do not know all of them as well as I probably should, I do know that I could walk up to any of them in the hallway and start a conversation. And that is the beauty of theater. We are all connected in some way, without having to worry about grade differences, popularity, or other social differences.
The other beauty of theater is that it allows you to express yourself. When I am under the stage lights, in the room I know so well, I feel free. No matter who is watching me from the dark audience, on that stage I am whoever I want to be.
When I first started doing theater freshman year, my confidence didn’t exist. I second guessed everything I did. I worried about if I was taking up too much room on stage, or taking too long to say my lines, or being too much. It took me the better part of that year to realize that that wasn’t the case.
I am now sitting backstage. It is off-book night, which, for the non-theater people, means that everyone has to have their lines memorized. I, despite my efforts, am only about 90% of the way there (sorry Mrs. Easter and stage managers!) We are all talking about how unprepared we are, except for the two people that have been off-book for weeks, one of which is on stage performing right now, and is talking about “cockroaching around” (if you know, you know).
Despite the stress, and me writing this instead of memorizing my lines or studying for my math test tomorrow, I am so completely content. More than that though, I am at home. I know that right now, as I am sitting on the ground and using the prop table as my desk, is probably the most safe and calm I will feel all week.
So thank you to the Fort Worth Country Day theater department for helping me find myself. For giving me an outlet. For creating a safe space for me to just be. For giving me a second family. And for giving me a home. Curtain.
