Welcome to class. Look left and look right, one if you won't be here next year. Sound familiar? Theater schools have the same rate of drop outs as many other high-profile college programs. That first year can be very daunting and crazy fun as a fresh faced seventeen year old discovering life and who they are.
Theater school can be invigorating, it can also be soul-crushing. And I decided to go twice. The first time I was just fresh out of high school, excited to leave the burbs and make new friends. I'd only seen one professional play in Toronto before moving and was one hundred percent sure I wanted to be an actress or creator.
I loved school and being away from home. I loved meeting new people and doing what felt like becoming a woman. I joined the cheerleading team, something I'd always wanted to do. Everything I was learning was new and it blew my mind, I didn't know it existed!
Bam. First semester ends. After being fed all this information, second year auditions are coming up. A cloud of fear looms over the class. There were about 100 students. 16 spots in the acting program, 24 spots in devised theatre and 30 spots on the production side. Now let's be honest, most people wanted to be in the acting program, so there goes my left and right.
Luckily got into the program I came for - devised theatre. There I learned about theatre in a way I had never imagined. But I spread myself thin. I was so young and actually pretty shy. I had trouble expressing myself and connecting with my more artistic classmates. I couldn't get my point across to my professors often feeling squashed and voiceless.
And then there are the cuts. Consistent fear of getting cut. Most schools with prestige do this, it's to keep people thinking of the prestige. It was terrifying.
After another year or so, I started to find myself again. Now having my best friends outside of school and sharing an apartment and a closer bond with my classmates and having built some taste in theatre.
My major struggle throughout this time was the system. I didn't know it, but I hated being a student. When an authority figure walked in the room, I would immediately just clam up and obey. I would lose all of my autonomy through no fault of theirs, but a habit from my own upbringing. I felt very small. Any win I had, was followed by disappointment. I still remember after a great review, I expressed to my professor that I might like to go do an acting conservatory. She bluntly said, "no one would take you". I ran and cried in the toilet.
In my last year there, I met a group of theater artists who I just meshed with. We had similar views and wanted to express them. We ended up workin together that year and that became a sort of transition out of school. I was becoming antsy to just graduate and start my life.
After graduating, those peers that I had meshed so well with created a company and worked together for a while. We were all still finding our footing after school but enjoying what we did. This helped to cover the fear and nothingness that awaits post grad.
A year out of school, I'd been working and acting a little. Taking classes and whatnot. I discovered an acting technique that made me want to act more, so I decided to go to that school in New York the following year and shape up my life.
I promised myself this time, if I didn't like it, or if I felt like I was being pushed around again, I'd leave. That this time I'd make sure my voice was heard.
Funny how things repeat themselves. There I was again, feeling meek and small in front of my class, being chastised by the teacher having words put into my mouth about how I was feeling. All I wanted to do was shout "Shout the fuck up. You don't know me bitch!" I consistently didn't understand things but the teachers were too busy to be asked. What I was learning was so abstract to me in someways, that I just felt like I was in a vortex.
It was ongoing. I would wake up feeling a heaviness in my chest, thinking - hmm I wonder I I'll get kicked out today. My low point was getting my review back, but it being accidentally sent to my parents house, where they insisted on reading it to me out loud over Skype only to discover I wasn't doing so hot.
It wasn't all bad, the ending was a little different this time. There was a point where I just cracked. It just got so angry. It was near the end. When I just said fuck it. Fuck this place. I already paid you, so now who cares. I worked on plays I loved right after I left with good colleagues and quickly found new classes I liked.
Just because someone tells you you can or can't do one thing, it's only their opinion. If you love something just keep adding to the fire. It took a while to rebuild my self-esteem. Lots of classes and working with people on projects I care about. Also realizing everyone is just like you. Sometimes it's just an ego game. Most of my classmates don't act anymore. Or work in the theatre. I don't know how hard they tried, but in the end they decided it wasn't for them.
It's a hard business. Let's be honest. You can do your best one day, but you're just too short for the part. You could be perfect for the part - and then royally screw up at the audition. Sometimes you have to take the bad with the good. But in the end, do what you love and find a way to make it love you back.
