Literacy Vignette 1

I can remember the very first play I ever decided to be a part of in elementary school. I was unconfidently standing on our gymnasium stage, it was the biggest most frightening stage I had ever had the privilege of appearing on. I was a young and innocent twelve years old and new to the acting gig. I stood there shaking in my boots for most of the rehearsals and what went through my mind as I continued to rehearse is beyond me. My choice to be there was purely based on peer pressure. I wasn’t getting paid, and with what very little talent I thought I had, it definitely wasn’t worth bragging about. Wait a minute, it’s coming back to me now, I am slowly remembering how horrific of an age being twelve really was for me. I was at the stage in my life where I was unsuccessfully trying to discover, or uncover, or recover my true identity….I guess I am still trying to figure that one out. I was still defining myself as an individual, but we all know how that story goes…many of us struggle to find who we are by following the lead of everyone else. I was trying to do whatever it was that my friends did, and at this time they were performing on stage, so yes, you guessed it, I too was performing.

You never would have guessed just how well I was at accidentally acting. I call it accidentally acting because the part I was about to play required me to be a hopeless, frightened and lonely child. Perfect! There was no better part to play than one that directly correlated to myself at that very moment! My attempt at costume and makeup was tragic. The truth was that during my efforts to look like a castaway I ended up looking like a kid who took scissors to her clothing and cut out perfectly round circles in the knees of her sweat pants. I cut up one of my beloved t-shirts, and in order to look dirty, I simply covered my face in a ton of makeup. How entirely cliché!

My wardrobe was misleading, my confidence was non existence and my acting skills were less than recognizable. I was the epitome of many who believe but cannot do. I was setting myself up for failure and in the biggest most public form imaginable. I could have done many a things to accomplish a sense of failure within the privacy of my own room but no, I had to do what my friends were doing. I grinned and I bared it because the show had to go on. The lights were so bright they reflected right off my face and most likely blinded many of the brave onlookers in the audience. I was sweating and pale and sick enough to vomit but I kept with it despite my reservations. I dragged my limp body out onto stage stared my costars blankly in their make up covered faces and I pitifully begged them for their lines. I could have sold my right arm at that very moment for just one hint. Nothing. All I could hear was the deafening silence of pure and utter shock of a blank mind. My lines escaped me as if the fear they felt mirrored my very own. I was alone on stage and the world stopped spinning, the seconds felt like hours and my very last time as an actor haunts me to this day.