bitches ain’t shit

December 13, 2012 § Leave a comment

Today in biology I cut a fetal pig’s heart clean in half and felt absolutely nothing. Could the symbolism be any more transparent?

Alright Heather, cut the melodrama.

Playing the beautiful loving character that is Hope Cladwell all fall opened my eyes, I think I may be a bitch. At a young age I prided myself on my altruistic personality, now I wonder where that compassion has escaped to. I look at the small handful of people I’ve lost due to my over competitive attitude, low tolerance, and fear of commitment. I see faces that I’m glad have nothing to do with me anymore, and one face that I wish I could make look me in the eyes again.

I think about who I was exactly one year ago. I think about the guy who was supposed to remain my best friend for the rest of my life, the same guy who I can’t even say hello to in class. While I hesitate to throw out the term “used,” I never though I’d be the one taking advantage. I fear heading down the same path again.

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Haters Gonna Hate, Potatoes gonna Potate.

November 28, 2012 § 1 Comment

To begin, I’d like to apologize for dropping off the face off wordpress for the last couple of months. The show consumed nearly all of my time, and any free second that it forgot was immediately snatched up by homework. Needless to say, I was pretty swamped.

However, eight packed weeks of nonstop work paid off more than I ever expected. While tackling my part was nerve wracking, frustrating, and very uncomfortable at times, the gratification I received at the end of the process was nothing short of glorious. For that one week of shows, I was a celebrity. Showered in waves of compliments, I had never felt more appreciated.

The celebration came to an abrupt halt when some very startling news met me at school on Monday morning. I was told that a cruel article, relentlessly bashing the show and actors, had been passed out during our Friday night show. As if  from a scene from some crappy teen film, a black hooded mystery person had sneaked in to the auditorium during intermission and threw these papers in to the audience with no remorse. Upon discovery, the papers were collected before any company members had a chance to see them. A destructively curious side of me longed to read the article, while another part of me knew I did not want to see what it said. I am sure you can guess which half ultimately had it’s way.

When I returned home from striking the set on Monday I was sent a link that lead to the article on facebook. Upon reading it, I was devastated. The author acknowledged the quality of my singing, but immediately proceed to say that a different actress deserved the part more.

Oh, the anger.

Rage bubbled up inside of me like a tea kettle on the verge of a boil. I wanted to slam doors, punch walls, and most of all, find this “ghost writer” and give them “a fucking piece of my fucking mind.” I could not believe what I had read. All my hard work put to shame by some faceless stranger behind a screen. For a brief second, the whole show was ruined, soiled by one negative review.

Then, closure.

It is absurd to assume that everyone would like my performance, or even the show. Where there is glory, there is also criticism. While the negative comments hurt, they show me where I have gotten in these past three years of high school drama.  Once a freshman face that no one recognized or knew, I have become a face that inspires these younger students. I have become a face that receives compliments and recognition, but along with this success comes the pain of being disliked. While it may kill in the moment, I have learned to embrace this hatred, because at the end of the day I still have the success that no one can deprive me of.

 

but what about us humanities people?

October 3, 2012 § Leave a comment

Disclaimer: This is probably considered a rant, so bear with me. 

A few days ago my brother came home with a paper from his middle school math teacher informing my parents about the “challenge homework” that the class offered. My mother was furious that my brother had not been recommended by the teacher to complete these assignments.

Before I go any further I should clarify that I absolutely despise math, but my brother is definitely an aspiring engineer. Personally, I’ve been an avid fan of English since the fourth grade.

As an English lover, this incident got me thinking. Why are these middle schoolers even offered math “challenge homework” in the first place? This special homework never is offered in English or history, but always seems to be an option in math classes.

At a very young age these kids are already being separated in to  “good at math” and “bad at math.” While I’m sure that these extra assignments are very beneficial to those who fall under the “good at math” category, what do the “good at English” kids get? Or the “good at history” students? These math challenge assignments only provide a false sense of entitlement. Meanwhile, the students who do not excel in math feel inferior.

Categorizing at such a young age puts kids in a box. Who is to say that just because a kid is not great at math in seventh grade means that he does not stand a chance?

Hey Romney, put a sock in it.

September 27, 2012 § 1 Comment

“The district that spent the most per pupil and had the smallest classrooms, Cambridge, those kids were in the bottom 10 percent.”

Not only is the above statement insulting, but it is also false. As a proud, eleventh year Cambridge public school student, I was appalled when I read what Romney said on Tuesday. I’ll let the statistics vouch for my school district’s success http://www.bostonmagazine.com/best-schools-in-boston/index.html.

So I begin to wonder, where exactly is the republican presidential candidate getting his information? MCAS  scores perhaps? I did a quick google search (thank goodness for technology) to see what I could find, and it certainly was not parallel with what Romney is claiming.

Ranked 244th out of 350 in tenth grade English does not sound like the bottom 10% to me, and neither does 154th out of 351 in tenth grade math. I looked at several other 2010 MCAS rankings and while Cambridge never makes the top 10%, we certainly are not at the bottom. Mitt Romney’s comment is rooted in a complete lie. He also neglected to mention Cambridge’s incredibly diverse population. It is difficult to take an English MCAS exam if English is not your first language.

I find it pretty concerning that Romney blatantly lied and has not been called out on it, as someone who’s entire education has been provided by the city of Cambridge it is also insulting to have my entire education slandered.

Can I get a drum roll please?

September 23, 2012 § 1 Comment

…and after a nail biting two days, the cast list has been posted. I’m glad that I can say it only generated great news!

I am officially the luckiest girl, and will be playing the lead role of Hope Cladwell in “Urinetown” this fall! Yes, the show’s title is off putting but even that can’t dampen my spirits.

Thursday was stressful, Friday was painful. Just thinking about the mystery surrounding the cast list was enough to send a metaphysical knife sailing into my gut. Checking the clock every five minutes grew more difficult with each passing interval, but somehow I made it to the last ten minutes of the day. Then I had to face the walk. The typical thirty second commute from the chorus classroom to the location of the cast list stretched for miles and ended abruptly at a dense crowd of people. I couldn’t look, but I had to. The next two months of my life depended on that sheet of paper.

Hope Cladwell…followed by my name. Could it be true? I still don’t completely believe it.

Glorious moments such as these are the reason I do theatre. Granted, they only come after my lowest moments. Being cut from the musical my freshman year was devastating to say the least, being rejected from the Christmas revels chorus hurt as well, and not making the winter play was a huge disappointment.  With each cut and insignificantly small role my frustration only grew further. My dad would comfort me by saying my time would come, that eventually people would recognize me. He told me to stick to it and I could only move up.

Dedication and patience can only pay off.  I know that I’ll face waves of brutal rejection in the future, but for now I am going to bask in the light.

Swiftly Approaching the Climax

September 20, 2012 § Leave a comment

Happy audition week everyone!
It’s that time of year again and my stomach is in knots. The fall musical is competitive, and I’m fighting for a spot.

Monday I auditioned with my song and monologue, and left feeling unfulfilled. It was a long two day wait until the callback list was posted yesterday, but somehow my name found its way on there. I had the privilege of reading for the female lead all afternoon.

There’s the problem with callbacks: you begin just wanting any part in the show, no matter how small, but callbacks introduce you to this wonderful lead. I’ve realized how amazing having this big role would be, but I have to keep forcing my hopes down and remind myself that I haven’t even been cast yet. It doesn’t help that all of a sudden I’ve been thrust in to some crappy ABC family movie, and am competing with two of my best friends for this part.

I did give it all  I had though, that’s one thing I am certain about. If I don’t get cast in this role at least I can be confident that I held nothing back at callbacks. That’s what it’s about it in the end I guess. You win some and you lose some, but the real losers are the ones who lost because they gave up. If this role slips away from my grasp, there’s always next year to bounce back!

The cast list will be posted Friday afternoon. After school. I cringe just thinking about the two six and a half hour days that I’ll have to endure before I receive closure. Including tonight, that’s over thirty two hours! Alright, it’s time to stop torturing myself with this math and regulate my heart beat. That’s something you become so accustomed to through theatre, the feeling that a monster hand is residing in your chest and squeezing your heart. Yet, I stick with it. The uphill battle is almost over, just two days until I reach the peak. I can see it where the end is supposed to be, but I just can’t seem to make it out through all of this fog.

“You’re doing the mature thing”

September 14, 2012 § Leave a comment

The thing about always taking the high road is that is gets pretty lonely up here.

I know walking the mature path is whats supposed to benefit you in the long run, but where on earth has it lead me?

I know the sayings:

An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind

Two wrongs don’t make a right!

Don’t fight fire with fire.

They forget to mention that if you don’t whip out your fire, you get walked all over. So there are my options: create a bigger problem, or take the passive approach and become a human punching bag.

It’s been a rough couple of days. Somewhere along the line I was unfairly designated a good friend’s scapegoat and received an unnecessary amount of cruelty for a situation that I was not a part of. Granted, I knew about it, but I was stuck between friends in a thick pool of secrets. What a classic “don’t tell her I told you but…” situation.

I was just an innocent spectator on the sidelines. I didn’t even want to be there but I was dragged on to that field without realizing, and from there conflict was inevitable.

I had two  obligations:

1. Keep a good friends secret

2. Tell another good friend that secret, as it was in her best interest to know.

So basically, there was no way to win, so I transformed into the human punching bag when friend #2 heard what had happened. And I sat there and took her blows, biting my tongue.

So here I am, sitting up on the high road, feet dangling in all of this empty space. I could jump, in fact  I’d love to jump and sink to everyone else’s level. I’m tempted, all of this translucent air is taunting me. What would it be like to not do that mature thing for once? How would it feel to let all my real feelings lose?

Everyone else seems allowed to make stupid decisions, maybe it’s my turn to take a stab at it.

 

 

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