Theatre has been such a positive experience for me so far this year. In third grade, I auditioned for Talented Theater and made the cut.
In elementary and middle school, theatre was more about the cliques and choreography.
I was good at neither.
Cliques are exclusive, and that has never been okay with me. I have nearly always struggled to make friends, and I did not fit in the theater clique. I didn’t talk about the “right” things, move fast enough, or giggle and share inside jokes while the teacher tried to explain acting techniques. I didn’t want any part of a snobby group that excluded other people anyway. I yearned for a group of friends, but as I’ve gotten older I’ve realized that having a perfect group of friends doesn’t exist. I am friends with a lot of people whose personalities differ greatly, and that’s what makes friendship so interesting.
And don’t get me started on choreography.
Every year in theatre, I have been a part of the ensemble. Oftentimes, that means learning complicated movements to pair with blocking (the location of the character on stage) and dialogue. My dislike of choreography has a lot to do with my lack of coordination and the limited range of motion I have compared to my classmates.
Now, in high school, finally none of that seems to matter.
What does matter is passion for telling a story with words. What matters is being supportive of one another. And I have never seen those principles exemplified in theatre more than I have this year.
I thought this year would be more of the same cliques and endless whispering between friends that did not include me. I was wrong—and I’m so glad I was.
Not only have I been included, but I have been accepted. And that means so much, and is worth so much more.
Stairs are difficult for me. I hate to admit that I need help, but it is absolutely essential that I accept help climbing the stairs. Stairs are a safety concern. I could probably climb the stairs with no one supervising me, but I have falling anxiety. (It’s kind of ironic because I fall down so much. Actually, I don’t know which came first—do I have anxiety because I know what it’s like to fall and I don’t want to go through that again or do I fall because I’m anxious and overthinking things?)
Anyway, to get onstage in our theater, there is a staircase. I’ll be honest, I was filled with dread the first day of in-class rehearsal. I know how weird this sounds, but every time I know I’ll have to climb stairs, my mouth goes dry and my hands start to sweat.
I’m afraid of falling down. I’m afraid of being judged.
But I wasn’t judged. In fact, the exact opposite happened.
I think it’s true that people learn through observation. My theatre teacher had had to help me up the stairs for the first week or so of class. It was awkward; she stepped down before me and then reached her hand up to grab mine. Even so, I appreciated her help. It was embarrassing for me; I hated that I had to ask my teacher every day to help me.
The problem was, the rail had nearly snapped off the wall. For me, climbing up and down stairs without a rail is not an option. My falling anxiety is a factor, but my feet turn in severely on stairs and can cause me to trip.
I always feel like I’m a burden when I ask for help, especially for physical things that I feel like I should be able to do.
One day, when our teacher called, “Everybody onstage to start blocking!” I was filled with dread, apprehension, and anxiety once again. That may sound dramatic, but stairs are a real fear of mine. I hesitated, gritting my teeth as I debated whether to go bother my teacher and ask her for help climbing the stairs once again or to just risk it and climb up the stairs myself.
I was staring uncertainly at the stairs when I heard someone behind me say, “Do you need my help?”
I turned around and saw a girl in my class who I’d never spoken to before. I knew she was an upperclassman but beyond that, I knew nothing else.
“Yes, please,” I said nervously, my voice trembling. I was scared that if I stammered or was too awkward that she would go away. But she didn’t.
“T-thank you so much!” I stammered, grateful.
She smiled at me, nodded, and said “Of course”. Not only was she really kind and nice, but she was also helpful and effective. She rested her arm against mine and then grabbed my hand, reaching back to help me up the last step after she got onstage.
I stared after her, grinning. Not only was I shocked that someone—a classmate—had helped me, but she was also 3-4 years older than I was. I am no longer jaded about older kids, partly because of her.
That girl helped me up the stairs, but she did so much more. She opened the eyes of more of my classmates; they offer to help me climb up the stairs now, too. She now calls me “baby” and “sweetie” (probably because I am the youngest person in the class). Mostly, she helped me realize that my goal of acceptance is not as far-fetched as I thought.
I still struggle for acceptance, but I am able to be myself in my theatre class. Theatre was the last place I expected to find friendship, but I did.
Kids really do learn from others. Anyone can show kindness and empathy; you just have to give them a chance.
Stairs are not an impossible obstacle. Anxiety can be conquered if you have the right people to help you. I’m not naïve; I know that not all kids are nice. But there are people out there who are nice, and people who know that your challenges don’t matter.
There are people who will help you and who will only care about what’s inside.
So try something new. People might surprise you.