Stage Fright Turned Right by Jillian

Stage Fright Turned Right by Jillian - September 2017 Scholarship Essay

I hate this. I can’t do this. I suck.
For the first few weeks, it seemed as though theater was going to be the worst class of my entire life. I walked in and immediately found myself knee deep in future Hamlets and rising NYU graduates. For them, the confidence appeared innate; for me, it was equivalent to having one’s teeth pulled…without the nitrous oxide.
Our first assignment seemed simple enough. We were to select an individual in the class and interview her with a variety of the most unconventional questions left to our choosing. To my immediate dissatisfaction, I was partnered with not only a high school senior four years older than myself but a theatrical veteran as well. “I quit. I request a transfer!” the little voice inside of me yelled, “Get. Me. OUT OF HERE!” How easy it would have been at that moment to run out that door and never look back. Most likely seeing the look of terror sweep across my face, my partner began the interview.
“If you were an animal what would you be?”
I gulped. “Um…a turtle?”
“Spearmint or bubblegum toothpaste?”
After a few more questions, I discovered the project to be particularly not terrible. I actually started to enjoy myself, but then our teacher spoke again. We were to now compile our newly acquired information into a one minute monologue to be performed in front of the entire class. My face turned pale as snow. We were to analyze our partner throughout the following week paying special heed to her mannerisms and frequent sayings. Was anyone else seeing stars?
For that following week leading up to our monologues, I was a nervous wreck. Somehow, my theater class had taken precedence in the forefront of my mind pushing all thoughts of chemistry and calculus aside. Before I knew it, the day of our performances had arrived. Walking into the room, I was numb. I slowly made my way to a seat furthest from the stage and sat down in silence. The monologues had begun.
The first to perform were two individuals I had come to acknowledge as our class clowns. Laughter erupted from the audience as soon as each took to the stage. Watching their performances, I allowed myself to forget about my anxiety. Was I perhaps becoming, dare I say it, comfortable in the class?
Very soon, the time had come for me to perform my monologue. Steadily, I made my way to the stage. Standing beneath the bright stage lights, stars once more began to take shape in front of my face. “No.” I said, “I can do this.” Taking a deep breath, I began.
Before I knew it, my monologue was complete, and I was back in my seat. My heart was beating a million miles a minute, and the size of my pit stains could possibly have qualified in the Guinness Book of World Records. But, I didn’t care. Not only had I successfully performed my monologue without vomiting but I had learned that it wasn’t so hard after all.
It is currently four years later, and I have since had the opportunity of performing lead roles in The Addams Family Musical and The Real Inspector Hound, supporting leads in Grease and Last Chance High, and I am student directing our upcoming spring musical. It is my theater people with whom I surround myself. They are no longer those intimidatingly confident individuals with public speaking skills far beyond this realm but my closest of companions I have the opportunity of recognizing as my family. By theater, I have grown significantly in confidence and pride. No longer am I afraid to stand up for what I believe or to be myself in front of a crowd. Because of theater, I have the freedom to be sincerely me.