A Brief Acting Career

For obvious reasons. I was never comfortable standing up and being on display when younger, let alone performing, debating, or acting.

Not that I had to do much of that while in Pinecrest. I was not in the main cast of anything while there. I suppose I didn’t make the cut. Although I was good enough for the chorus. But then again, everyone was good enough for the chorus. I recall being a sugarplum, dancing in your head, in the Christmas play. Was I a sugarplum? I can’t rightly say what I was, but I remember being dressed in a round red costume (so maybe I was a cranberry) with the others, lined up at the back of the gym, and when cued, we marched in through the main doors from behind the spectators (our parents), up the aisle, and then after splitting into two groups, up the stairs on either side of the stage. Our parents laughed when they saw us enter, not maliciously, but in good humour from being surprised by our sudden entrance from the rear of the gym...or so my mother said. We sang, I remember that. I had to sing harmony, and I was not particularly pleased to be chosen to be (I don’t think any of us were, to be honest). Harmony took a little while to learn; it’s not like it comes naturally to a grade school kid. I remember we’d been separated into two groups during practice, melody to the right, harmony to the left, all of us seated on mats on the floor.

Then, later, while in St. Theresa, I was in an actual play, one in which I actually had lines. I studied and studied, never believing I’d actually learn all my lines. There weren’t many, the play was just an act, and a short one at that, maybe five or ten minutes long at best, but it seemed an eternity for one with stage fright. We, the cast, were students and teacher in a classroom. I played the bullied student who forgives all the other students in the class who’d been cruel to me, once their misguided behavior was pointed out to them by our properly wise and insightful teacher. I told them, “All I ever wanted was for everyone to just get along,” (a la Leave It to Beaver) and they all understood and we were best friends till our dying day. Jesus...! There may have been some quavering of voice while I probably mumbled out my lines in a bland and unemotional monotone.

The final play was in high school. Mine was a bit part, just a walk through with one line. But at least I spoke. Without a nervous twitter of voice. More importantly, I was to walk arm in arm with a momentary crush. Granted, my heart was in my throat the whole time. Being mocked and teased by my friends in the front row didn’t help much.

Finally, in high school, we were separated into groups of three or four and expected to perform a skit on a subject we chose from a hat. We opted to perform ours as a newscast, with anchorman and man on the street interviews. We spent more time laughing at our own material than practicing. I think it showed. I definitely missed one of my lines.

Practice makes public speaking easier. Knowing your material cold helps too. Given time, I gave up on fear of speaking in front of others. I came to realize there was no point to it. Who the hell are they in the audience, anyway? Friends or strangers. They’re either rooting for you, or you’ll never see any of them ever again. So, don’t sweat it.