In high school, people are expected to find some sort of club or sport that they invest time and effort in to try and “fit in” with a rush to make it to graduation day. So many students find sports; in fact, I played volleyball for four years prior to high school. However, many students also find comfort and passion on the stage rather than a field or court. These kids may have a certain clique title such as “theater kids,” “stage rats” or some other derogatory term to describe their hobby. So many people that use these names but have maybe never even seen a musical live. So here is a note that I’m sure anyone who has been in the cast or crew can relate to.
A note from a thespian:
My home is the stage. I eat, sleep and breathe show tunes. This is no metaphor. I clock just as many hours being on, near or around the stage as I do at my own kitchen table or bedroom. I sing the show’s repertoire when I eat breakfast, in my dreams (or, as some may argue, nightmares) and the catchy tunes escape my mouth at any moment of the day. If there is any sort of production, you can count on my name to be first on the audition list. I am a proud member of the drama department, but with this pride comes heartbreak.
The football team, like many American schools, is the focal point no matter how many games we win, or lose for that matter. So much attention and, more importantly, funds go into a sport with equal 50/50 chance of a win or loss. But even if the “pride and joy” of the school loses, there’s always another game for redemption. They get recognition for all of the time they spend at practice and in the weight room; the football team gets a status close to Superman. The whole school, and community for that matter, gather for their one big game, homecoming, and go absolutely bananas for a touchdown or tackle that, quite frankly, is subpar at best. But still, we cherish and adore the players, and the seniors seem like untouchable gods in some way.
But like many schools, a musical or play is being produced at the same time, buried deep in the auditorium, tucked away from anything. With just enough funding to get set and scripts, we push on, knowing that we are the first to be cut. Even though we offer so many benefits to students and a place for people that don’t want to play sports, we cringe at the words “budget cuts.” While our activity is low impact compared to most or all sports, we are viewed as “lazy” or something related. Well, for news to people that believe that, this is sadly not true. Some rehearsals go for six hours, on a school night. While your practice may be more physically draining, six hours is a long time to learn the blocking for one scene or to master the opening number.
We pour just as much blood, sweat and tears into our show as a football player, literally. From learning stage combat to building set or learning a dance number, a show is quite demanding. When the tech is added to perfect the lighting and mics, everyone wants to break down in tears from stress and an impending opening night, but refrains because they don’t want to re-apply 40 pounds of stage makeup. For us, we get anywhere from two to eight shows, usually, to display the endless days of practice. No redos. No redemption game. All or nothing.
So in short, for those that still don’t understand why people do theater, here’s a summary: we do what we love for ourselves and community. The cast isn’t just a cast, but a family. We fight, argue and disagree on, well, just about everything, but we depend and encourage each other because deep down it’s all love. It’s all worth the risk of being the first program to go, asking classmates to come but we know they don’t even know where the auditorium is and the silly names. The costumes, makeup, lights, characters and all that comes with it is an added bonus to the real reason we all get on the stage. Passion drives us. Before that last performance, there is a breath of relief because it’s finally just about over, but an air of sadness hovers over because this is it. Theater isn’t just people saying pre-written words, but a story of a story that we live to tell.
