Post #84: Multifaceted

Multifaceted
Preface

“Multifaceted” is a memoir for a future student about my high school Musical Theatre experience. It is an honest account of my whirlwind of emotions in the decision to take the course and in challenging the bounds I had set upon myself. I hope you enjoy and that this encourages you to try out something new!

Dear Janette,

Theatre or no theatre? That is the question. If you’re weighing Musical Theatre against another course, forget about that other course momentarily. The theatre experience you receive is so vastly different from your run of the mill classes, that the first question is whether you want to take that leap of faith. Or not.

I am not going to tell you yes or no. Believe it or not, you already have the answer. I’m writing to share some perspective, both on my decision and on the consequences. If deep down, the answer is no, you will find all of the reasons in this letter to justify that no. But if there is a twinkle of yes, then that twinkle is the brightest and only star you will seek in this.

~~~

I stood in your shoes a little under a year ago. I was sitting in my computer science class, which I had fast-tracked of course, thinking about what my grade 12 year should look like. My grade 12 year, so far yet so near. I already felt halfway done since half my classes were grade 12 classes anyways. My soul was ready to fly out with those graduates but I was trapped here for yet another year. But thankfully I was trapped here for one more blissful year. Contradictory emotions, confusion abound, but at least one thing is for sure: my courses must reflect who I am, my identity. And who am I? A STEM kid, if you were to clique it.

Musical Theatre is not a STEM course. 

Still, I write this letter, after having clearly been involved with this year’s production of Freaky Friday. Still, my wings were aching to fly out with those graduates, perhaps not in the context of leaving this school, but at least in the context of departing from what I knew. Still, I sat in that computer science class thinking “I’m done Chemistry. I’m done Physics. Now what?”

You could say I was inspired to join this class by a number of people. One of the Student Council Presidents at the time, Dale, was in theatre. I looked up to him, to his personality and his confidence and his place in the school. Following in those carefully laid footsteps, I ran for Student Council President. I didn’t win. I wasn’t me. I was broken, hopeless, defeated. Or maybe I was me but who is me? Oh well. He wasn’t a STEM kid.

Eliza. That’s a STEM kid. If I had to call a kid a mentor it would be Eliza. They sparked my passion in debate. They pushed me out of my comfort zone and imbued me with a sense of adventure. They shared in my venting and wow’d my woes away. They weren’t a lead like Dale, but rather an ensemble member in the last show I saw them in. But what they did they did with grace and smiles. In part, I think I chose to do Theatre for Eliza.

I’m back in Computer Science. I asked this girl who sat beside me, Blakely, whether I should join Theatre. “What about my commitments in school? Will I have time? What about my lack of experience? Will I belong?” Funnily enough, I can’t remember exactly what she said. But I do remember her energy, her encouragement, her excitement to see my interest. And that in and of itself made the answer clear. 

To my delight, when I shared this choice with my friends, Ulysses said he wanted to do Theatre too! Hallelujah! He’s not a graduate! I wouldn’t be alone in the class! Of course, I interrogated him more on what it would be like. He said it had been a while but it’s worth it because of the community. 

I had a lot that I was promised.

March and April and May and June. Whenever somebody would ask me about my schedule for the next year, I would rave about Theatre, reciprocating the energy I had received from my Theatre friends. 

The actual experience was a lot shorter than I thought it would be. And yet it was long. On the first day, I recall my teacher saying that if we felt like this class wasn’t for us then we should let her know soon that we would be dropping the class so that she could plan ahead. And in that moment I felt doubt. 

Inadequacy. 

And this is not a feeling that went away after the first day. It would come up in bursts on certain days when I felt alone. It would come up whenever I messed something up and I realized that here I was, a newbie, amongst all of these people with real passion and experience. Theatre was isolating in some ways. But then again, to feel isolation you also need to know what it means to be together.

Theatre was together. Together in auditions and marketing and song and staging and choreography and costumes and makeup and tech week and show. And even in sharing other parts of myself. I know that if I showed Theo this letter he would scoff at how often and terribly I’ve used polysyndeton and sentence fragments and I would smile because that’s such a nerdy thing to point out.

Each phase of planning felt like a chapter in a novel. The auditions, to push you out of your comfort zone and assess What You Got. The callbacks and tension and excitement bubbling up. The character to fall in love with. I remember Ulysses really wanted to play Fletcher (the little brother). And then he really wanted to play Adam (the daughter’s love interest). And then it was Fletcher again. And then half of the auditions happened, and he told me that he might just go for ensemble or potentially Mike (the mom’s fiancé) because he couldn’t play a convincing 10 year old anyways compared to other people. And I told him to go for the role that he wants, not to hold back because he doesn’t think he can. I said:

“Do it for the experience! For the love of character and audition and even failing audition because it’s part of the theatre experience but at least you went for a role that resonated with you.”

I have rare moments of wisdom you see.

He ended up going for Adam, which he got, and I’ll always remember the shock and awe of the moment when the final castings were announced. He also felt inadequate when in reality he belonged. It was like seeing myself and my emotions in a mirror.

I played Torrey, the mom’s assistant. To be honest, I knew the moment I heard the line “If I had a kid and the kid ran away, I would hunt him down and kill him” that I had to audition for her. There was a point where I wanted Katherine (the mom) too, but I’m glad I was cast as Torrey and I felt like I learned a lot. The facts? Every role has a monumental part to play. The ensemble is a big role, just like the leads. And you will be cast in a role that gives you the biggest learning opportunity.

Every day was like climbing up from the first floor to the third floor and then back down and back up again. It was tiring, it required fortitude. But sitting here and writing this, it feels like I barely moved at all. It feels like only a few seconds have passed when in reality it has been a few months. Even tech week, which I thought would be long and tiring and forever, was over in a snap. I didn’t even think I would cry during our last show. I didn’t even anticipate the euphoria of doing it.

I didn’t even realize when I blossomed from a STEM kid into Ishita.

It’s funny how in this specific production we had to create cliques of students (I was a nerd, obviously) when in reality, the experience broke down my expectations of who I am. Coming into high school, even coming into my class, I felt confined to a strict pathway. But now my roots have taken hold in vast expanses from the trunk, and as my leaves fall, they carry little memories of my multifaceted identity.

Theatre is perhaps not everyone’s cup of tea. It’s tiring and it hurts, and it isn’t all stars and dazzles as one might come to expect. Those lifelong connections they say you will have? They’ll only last if you make an effort. Really, everything requires an ongoing effort. 

But if there was one thing, one thing at all that made taking Musical Theatre absolutely worth it, it’s that it handed me a very special key to unlock a part of who I am. Your life experiences may be vastly different from mine. Maybe you’re not a STEM kid. Maybe you’re a Business kid, and you’re trying to figure out if you should take Musical Theatre for that extra space you have. Maybe you have done theatre before. 

But regardless of your background, I know that each time somebody takes this course, a special little key is created that will unlock some part of you.

That is the extent of what I will say. The rest is up to you to take that first step. After all, I wouldn’t have asked Blakely if I should do Musical Theatre if a part of me wasn’t going to do it in the first place.

Theatre or no theatre? What is your answer?

Best of luck,

Ishita Jain

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *