The student news site of The Harker School.

Harker Aquila

The student news site of The Harker School.

Harker Aquila

The student news site of The Harker School.

Harker Aquila

Winged Post
Newsletter

The MJ Journal: Column from The Winged Post EIC

I am not a thespian. Yet, somehow, I found myself on stage planning out my future wedding.

I auditioned for SDS in the fall, not knowing much about what I was about to embark on. All that I had in mind when I entered “theater” territory was that 1) I need to step out of the box my senior year, and 2) acting is out of my box. It almost seems counter-intuitive that, in high school, we spend most our time trying to find our niches, and here I was trying to break out of mine. But that was exactly the plan: to sign up on the bulletin board and make a fool out of myself.

I practiced the monologues the directors handed us over and over again, but stepping behind the taped line for the audition, I panicked. Their examining eyes and clicking pens led to the dramatic increase in my heart rate, a pounding which echoed in the silent room. Words somehow poured out of my mouth, and my eyes, too apprehensive to acknowledge their reaction, remained glued my script. At the end of my audition, I peered above the crumpled paper in my hands, attempting to decipher the smiles they kept plastered on their faces. Fail, was all I could think. Surprisingly, I made it to callbacks and was eventually given the role of Mary, the control freak in Check, Please.

First rehearsal, everyone else knew each other, and it was awkward. I flattened myself against the back wall and watched the rest of the cast pass jokes around. Even more, I was in a room with veterans. Christina Li (11), James Seifert (11), Namrata Anand (12) — they were all actors I had seen on stage before. Intimidated? Yes, I was. I watched the experts at their best, yelling their lines at one another, perfectly performing them during our first run-through. All the meanwhile I am wondering how in the world I got into actor-ville and when I can get out.

It was show week, and I was not prepared. After our first tech rehearsal, Nikita requested two of the fifteen cast members to stay behind and “fix” lines of which I was one. Ears burning up like two hot plates, I struggled to recite my lines perfectly, while watching ennui overcome James, who was forced to stay behind with me as my scene partner. I am the screw-up, I thought. There is a weak link in every group, and I am about to bring down the show. SDS was progressively looking like a big mistake.

But then the lights were on. I did not know the jargon, I did not know the way things worked or what a “prayer room” was, but we were all in the same boat. Yes, it was strange yelling out “ONE TWO THREE CHECK PLEASE” backstage, but I yelled it just as loud as the rest. We all had sweaty palms, were all nervous, and we were all going to do our best on stage. Acting, theater—I understood the passion, the drive. Friday night, I stuttered, skipped, and forgot my lines, but it did not matter because I was there, I had reached my goal. I became a part of a new community.

I am still not a thespian. I may never be one either. Yet indulging in a new environment was exactly what I needed to find a bit more of myself, my inner Mary. I am back in the newsroom now. Leads, headlines, nut graphs, greens, this is all familiar territory. But when I felt the nervous energy Tuesday about the paper going to bed, I grabbed my section editors hands and said something I learned on stage: “I will hold you up.”

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