What Theater Taught Me
I was a theater kid. You can probably tell from my fearless ability to act like a dork. I wasn’t on stage much but I loved my classes. The ability to rehearse and perfect a single moment in time appealed to me. The community we created in that black box theater was my safe place in high school. I didn’t know who I was beyond the red lipstick and shirts I insisted on cutting up, but I knew I belonged there.
People say being on stage is a rush. Each time the lights come up, you have to swallow the wobble in your voice and the only way to move beyond that initial terrifying minute is to keep talking. I’ve always been a ham, but a quiet ham. I like processing the room and then jumping in with a comment that at least makes me laugh. In theater, you got to share your hammy side with other people who liked making fun of themselves in the service of comedy.
Theater taught me a lot about myself and gave me a roadmap for life. I was able to be insecure in that room, to share my darkest fears, and to move on because the moment was over. I felt safe there in a way that only the stage, with its fierce lights and creaky wood, could offer.
The first lesson you learn (besides untwirling your tongue so you can project), is to find the light. Push your face into that beam so you stop seeing the audience and only see the scene. Nothing else exists besides your words and your body in perfect zero position. Center yourself, take a deep breath, and begin.
The second lesson we learned was more difficult. I’ve never been a fan of improv. It makes my heart race because there’s no comfortable rhythm to settle into. You are constantly looking around you and reading the audience, and for a quiet ham, that is terrifying. Your brain comes up with strange ideas and you have to choose in the moment what direction makes sense. It goes beyond socially acceptable and pulls out your heart. It’s choosing so fast you don’t have time to decide if your next thought makes sense.
We learned to accept and build. Never say no. Go for it. If your counterpart on stage says you’re in a spaceship, you had better be prepared to walk on the moon. Improv did not have time for your deep breath and your zero position.
These are the things theater taught me. Find your light. Accept and build. Go for it.