Getting Better

I can finally say it out loud: I changed my major.

I've been sitting on this decision since the 5th of April, debating whether or not to follow through with it, and I finally filled out the paperwork a week ago today. I'm now a Secondary Education English Major with a Minor in theater.

I haven't really told my friends yet; only a few of them know because I asked them for advice while trying to make up my mind about the whole situation. I also refused to tell everyone until I spoke with my acting professor and mentor. It only felt right that she should really be the first one to know.

I won't deny that I was scared to talk to her. I respect and love her and hold her in the highest regard, but I was so worried that she would be disappointed with me. I don't do well confronting authority figures, especially when I'm telling them something really difficult. Hell, I can barely stand up to my mom to tell her I disagree about something. This was, this was infinitely harder because I felt her opinion of me hung in the balance. I know it really shouldn't matter what other people think, but I really value her opinion.

She was really supportive of my choice; now, I could tell she was worried that I was making this decision based on my issues in Directing, but that's just the icing on the cake. Honestly, little thoughts of this decision have been getting more and more vocal since my breakdown in November. It just took until now for my brain to catch up. I've been saying for ages that I want to teach High School English and act on the weekends; I guess I just wasn't ready to let those thoughts in completely.

This is the first really big decision I've made for myself, and hopefully it'll be the first of many more.

Now, yesterday sucked royally, especially since I got severely reprimanded in both of my classes. Now, since the 5th and I hit my transformation/revelation, I've been better, happier than I've been since I was three years old. This past week, with the stress of knowing I had to tell my acting professor on top of the nightmare that was Directing, it's the closest I've been to those old feelings since the beginning of the month, and it was terrifying. I thought I was going to relapse, that I wouldn't even make it three weeks before reverting to my old habits, but on the way to my car, something fantastic happened.

I was in a right state after Directing and was talking out the inner monologue because it helps me sort out y thoughts. When the words, "I'm the biggest **** up in the world. I can't believe how much of a **** up I am," I stopped, I literally stopped in my tracks. Where had those thoughts come from? Without thinking, I shot back, "Get the hell out of my head! I don't need you anymore. That's not true." And the thoughts went away. Now, I felt like I'd been run over by a car the rest of the day, but there was something very empowering about telling the nasty voices in my head to stuff it and having it actually work.

I've been paying attention to how I feel lately, mostly to make sure I don't relapse into my old behavior. With this revelation came the feeling that my heart was whole for the first time I can remember. I no longer eat because I'm upset as dinner proved last night, and my chest doesn't feel empty anymore. I know things are changing, and instead of running from the change, I'm embracing it. I'm growing up.

Things are getting better.

"It's getting better all the time."

Do You Hear the People Sing?

I'm in a class in school right now called "The American Experience" and our homework for this past Monday was to read the Roe v. Wade and BSA v. Dale Supreme Court decisions. I decided to write one of my journals based on my reaction to these readings and to the class discussion. A note on the song choice: I had some difficulty choosing a song to represent this rant; it really is a rant. I felt this particular song from Les Miserables works because it is a call to arms. This assignment felt to me like a call to arms to fight for what I believe is right. Here it is.

 Controversy in the Court

            When I first sat down to read through the Roe v. Wade and BSA v. Dale decisions, it did not take long for me to start seeing red; I have not been that angry in a very long time. Now, I knew that the Boy Scouts are a very Christian group and do not condone homosexuality, but I didn't understand the extent of their prejudice and bigotry. As for Roe v. Wade, I am acutely aware that it may be overturned in my lifetime, and that is very scary. As a woman, I feel I have the right to decide what I do with my body, not to have a court of mostly old, white men tell me I have to carry through with a pregnancy I don't want/can't afford/am not ready for. These decisions really pissed me off and, at least with BSA v. Dale, strike me as incredibly unfair and discriminatory.

            Some of my very best friends are gay; I have no problem with this. They are clever, funny, and some of the nicest people I know. They also treat me with more kindness and respect than 98% of the heterosexual people I am acquainted with. I know gay rights is a huge issue right now, but it baffles me that people are so threatened by something that is not genetic or inherited but is simply a choice and a preference. America is supposed to be this free country where we can be whatever we want to be; isn't that the whole point of the American Dream? This ruling sends the message that "being gay is not ok if you want to ever be included." It is small minded and discriminatory. Unfortunately, it is also as hotly contested (if not more so) than the Civil Rights movement 50 years ago.

            In the case of Roe v. Wade, I tend to get hung up on the term "viable" and what it implies in the decision. Yes, a fetus may be viable at 23 weeks, but the repercussions of such an early delivery can result in lifelong health problems or the death of the fetus. Neither the court nor the state is even required to help out with any of the medical bills that would result from such an early delivery; the result is a broke, scornful new mother with an unwanted, sickly child. Is that fair to either party? The child will spend its entire life feeling unwanted while the mother will have a grudge against the court and the child; it is not fair. Unfortunately, unfair will only get me so far, but all of these conservative, right-wing groups that say life is a gift and any form of it should be considered a blessing: they need to carry a baby for nine months and give birth to it. Most of the major proponents in the government are MEN. Men should not have a say in what women do with their bodies. The only man who should have a say in that decision is the boyfriend or the father. That's it. Something like this is a private matter that should not have to be made public. By forcing women to fight for control of their bodies, they are objectified and treated as property. Women are people, too.

            I can argue this all day, and it is something that I get really fired up about; I want to have a family someday, be it in 5 years or 15, but the point is I want to be able to keep my right to choose when to have that family. Contraceptives aren't intended to "kill babies," they are to prevent unwanted pregnancies and extensive trauma for unwanted children. Men who like men or women who like women or people who are bi, transgender, transsexual or any of the other types of sexuality that exist should not be discriminated against because they have made a choice different from the norm, but if the norm is heterosexuality based on what a few old, white men decided, then it is time for that to change. They aren't aliens or vermin: they are PEOPLE, human beings who are entitled to the same rights and experiences as those considered "acceptable."

"When the beating of your heart/ Echoes the beating of the drums/ There is a life about to start/ When tomorrow comes."

Marching On

This is my first post in a few months, but I figured missing Leap Day for a post would be rather foolish. so here it is! Happy Leap Day, everyone! (Even so, It's taken me nearly 10 hours to get this written...)

My life has been one big event after the other since school started. From Wardrobe Supervisor for Spelling Bee to Vee Talbott to Harmonium to the Christmas Pageant to my first Field Experience to Black History, Black Voices 3 all on top of homework, papers, babysitting, auditions, rehearsals, honors papers, Wroxton applications, counseling, and hundreds of other little things, it's amazing I've even slept at all.

Tonight is the first night I've really been home in the last month. I've been so involved with school and rehearsals that I've been getting in at 11pm and leaving before 8 the next morning. I've been so busy that on a day like today where I suddenly have free time, I end up spending that time relaxing as opposed to doing work to stay caught up. I'm just so worn out that I don't have the wherewithal to push myself so hard anymore. I can't wait for break...even though I'll be teching  and doing props for a show all week. My life never ends.


"For those days we felt like a mistake,/Those times when love's what you hate,/Somehow,/We keep marching on."

Breathe (2AM)

I think all college students heading into finals should be required to listen to this one, mostly for the refrain. It is so easy to get swept up into the stress and exhaustion of the exams.

I've had an interesting few days, mostly because last night at dinner was the first real meal I've been able to eat in 3 days. I know my parents read this sometimes, so I don't want to worry them and I don't have an eating disorder, I promise, but I've eaten very little in the last three days, mostly liquids and small snacks. As my Basic Acting II final wound down yesterday, I realized that I had been far more nervous for it than I originally thought. I know I felt prepared for most of it (I still hate Actions and Objectives) and I knew my partner and I would be fine, but I was still incredibly nervous for it; it went really well. As soon as I relaxed, my stomach did not stop growling for a full hour. Food fail for sure.

I'm down to 3 finals: 2 in class and 1 paper. I'm hoping to knock the paper out today, leaving my Lit I and Stagecraft finals. I'm more than happy to work on Stagecraft, but I don't want to study for Lit. That class has been...interesting, to say the least. I was thrilled to be in a class where the assignments were all stories, some of which I was familiar with, but many of the readings wound up being dull and dry. I'm a personal fan of lectures with class participation in the form of questions where I can take real notes on what the teacher is looking for. I have no real notes from this class. Tons of doodles in my notebook, but no real notes. It is very frustrating.

I know it seems like I'm complaining (and I am), but I am very opinionated when it comes to teaching and to teaching styles. I'm heading into my first Field Experiences in January and I've taken 2 Education classes already at school. I even wrote my first lesson plan this semester and taught 15 minutes of my second lesson plan to the class. The more I learn about teaching, the more I look for the teachers that inspire me and the more I try to figure out why they are so amazing. My Acting Professor, my high school English/Latin teacher, my Honors Algebra II/BC Calculus teacher, my middle school French teacher, my high school choir director, my current choir director/boss, my Honors US I teacher, my music theory teacher, my 8th grade English teacher. They have all made a difference in my school career and have driven me to emulate their profession.

I love learning. I want learning to be fun and accessible and understandable for everyone, so when I am stuck in a class where I have no motivation and am not passionate, school becomes a chore. I'm not paying thousands of dollars to do chores. The point of college is to learn what you can in order to prepare for life. I shouldn't be something we do because we have to. That's what k-12 is for. College is optional and really freaking expensive, so the least we can do is have fun while learning.

"And breathe. Just breathe."

Down To The River To Pray

Any time you are in a show, life can be pretty difficult. There are lines to memorize, histories to craft, relationships to build, blocking to learn, sets to build, lights to hang, costumes to find and fit, sounds to design, and so many other things. it really is amazing just how much goes into producing and putting up a show.

The show I'm in right now, Orpheus Descending by Tennessee Williams, goes up this week, so we are in full blown production mode, and with full blown production mode actually comes a great deal of down time, surprisingly enough. There are two characters that are onstage for almost the entire show (one of them is in every single scene), so for all of the other townsfolk, it allows for some freedom. For example, I wrote most of a lesson plan during yesterday's 12 hour tech rehearsal.

This show is also very challenging. For me and my character, Vee Talbott, I've been on quite a journey. This is a woman who has visions from God, visions of Jesus and the Holy Ghost and of spiritual things, but she is also beaten by her husband and shunned by the rest of the town; they all think she is crazy. The only solace she finds is in her paintings. Her visions inspire her to paint, and while she is at her easel trying to recapture the  mystery and excitement of her visions, she feels complete and unique. Oh, and did I mention she is a devout Episcopalian?

As always, I look to music for my connections first. I find that creating a character soundtrack can give me all of the inspiration I need to finalize all of the other necessary details. One of the songs that jumped out at me for this part is "Down To The River To Pray." I first remember hearing this song on the soundtrack for "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" With its laid back tempo and open chords, it is the embodiment of old Southern tunes for me.

I really love this particular piece of music, even more with everything that has been going on in my life lately. With freak snowstorms, avalanches of homework, stress-inducing rehearsals, nervous breakdowns, floods and the like, any source of calm is greatly welcomed and treasured.

With any luck, life will go back to some semblance of normal after the show this weekend. I look forward to it, but I know some part of me will miss all this. I always do.

"As I went down to the river to pray/ Studyin' about that good ol' way/ And who shall wear the starry crown/ Good Lord, show me the way."

Jack Sparrow

So, my brothers have recently introduced me to the group The Lonely Island. Kind of funny, kind of awkward. there are clean versions of their songs out there, but most of them are fairly explicit. It's not really cursing and stuff for cursing's sake. The group got started on SNL and have since release 2 albums of their raps. It's all funny, it's all comedy, it's all very...crude I guess is the best word. But it's fluffing HILARIOUS.

My first introduction to TLI was the Jack Sparrow song, featuring Michael Bolton. the group is trying to record a "serious" rap and suddenly Bolton breaks out into "This is the tale of Captain Jack Sparrow." Sooooooo funny. Because after they convinced him to drop the Pirates of the Caribbean thing, he goes to other films. As a heads up, it is explicit, so view at your own discretion, but it is really, really funny.

I think it is interesting to see reactions to comedy that contains profanity. I used to watch it and not tell my parents until they started showing me comedians like Lewis Black and Russell Peters who use language in their routines. There's always a big debate on crude material versus clean material, but just like banned books, ignoring the problem in hopes that it will go away won't solve the problem...

"This is the tale of Captain Jack Sparrow/ Pirate so brave on the seven seas/ A mythical quest to the Isle of Tortuga/ Raven locks sway on the ocean's breeze."

Half-Life

Usually, everyone sees me as this bright, energetic, happy, busy person, always excited to work and help out any way I can. Sometimes, I can even see how they think that. Most times, though, I wonder where they come up with that impression; it just feels like a character I'm playing to hide the real me, the side I never want them to see.

I feel like I'm fighting really hard to find that happy girl nowadays. I've been looking at a picture from when I was about 1 year old and I just can't fathom that happy child, probably laughing because her Papa was making a goofy face behind the cameraman the way he always does. She didn't worry about grades or friends or driving or work or stress or sleep or eating right or finding love or money or debt or any of the things that invade my psyche on a daily basis.

I know part of the current problem is that I feel lonely. I see all of my friends with their groups and their inside jokes and feel so far removed that I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I feel like an outsider looking in the window of a really great party where everyone speaks a different language from me. I know that all I want is to feel like I belong, but I feel like I'm lacking something in that particular department. Maybe it's my sense of humor, maybe it's my laugh, maybe it's my lagging social skills, maybe it's my tendency to sit and listen when my friends talk and not feel like I can interject with my own opinions and have them be taken as seriously as the conversation was before I opened my mouth. Of course, I could just be flipping out over nothing at all.

There are some days when I long for the simplicity of life the way it used to be, before I wanted to grow up to be a perfectionist.

"Maybe I need to see the daylight/ Leave behind the half-life/ Don't you see I'm breaking down?/ Oh lately, something here don't feel right./ This is just a half life./ Is there really no escape,/ No escape from time of any kind?"