What if you had to choose between love and knowledge? I was asked to choose, and I couldn’t. I couldn’t choose.” These are the words of Tess, a young Cambridge student I’m playing. But although these words are hers, I feel as if they belong to me all the same. This dilemma has plagued me for years. Love or knowledge. Acting or something more stable. College is coming up, and I cannot afford love. But much like Tess, will I regret not aspiring for both? Theater is unique in its ability to move both the actor and audience emotionally and physically. As an audience member I relish in the moments after a curtain closes, as your mind races to decipher the themes and scenes you have just witnessed. But as an actor, I indulge in the moments before the curtain opens. Weeks of getting to know a story and making yourself a part of its social dialogue. The adrenaline of an audition, hours of intense rehearsals, and finally, the feeling of pride as you take your bow beside the people you have gotten to know and care for. The opportunity to turn that passion for theater into a positive and influential career is my goal. I have always wanted to help others. My undiagnosed ADHD fueled this love and pushed me into gifted programs. And it was these creative programs that unintentionally harbored my success. Gifted classrooms provided flexibility and encouraged imaginative play, giving me time to explore my interests. It allowed 10-year-old me to create the Pediatric Cancer Awareness charity I had dreamt of! (A project that opened my eyes to the complexities of leadership and philanthropy). Outside the classroom competitive cheerleading enveloped much of my time. For 12 years, I took pride in my tumbling, athletic ability, and mat presence. Unfortunately, two knee surgeries would put an end to cheerleading career. In 2020 my life, like many, shifted. A move landed me in a whole new state, high school began, and my schedule did not warrant much time for philanthropic endeavors. Underlying mental illness caught up with me, and my academics fell out of favor. I was struggling. It was not until I auditioned for my school’s musical, School of Rock, freshman year that I got a glimpse back into the creative environment in which I worked so well. My school’s drama club “The WAHS Players” introduced me to like-minded people who were also passionate about performing! My early life was filled with creative pursuits involving charity work, but it was theater that gave me the space to sustainable help others. Advocacy for neurodivergent actors like me, who have found accommodation in creative environments is vital! “What if you had to choose between love and knowledge? I was asked to choose, and I didn’t. I aspire to learn through the stories I act and share opportunity with the stories I create.” These words are hopeful and passionate because they are my own. Motivated by the tumbling 6-year-old, bookworm 8-year-old, altruistic 10-year-old, and anxiety-ridden teenager who all found their passion in the performing arts. I plan to create a charity that supports neurodivergent artists and inspires others to follow their passions!

As a student aspiring to pursue acting, I have always been captivated by musicals, and Wicked holds a special place in my heart. This show has introduced countless people to the joy of musical theater, reimagining the classic story of The Wizard of Oz through the emotional journeys of the witches Glinda and Elphaba. Iconic songs like “For Good,” “Popular,” and “Defying Gravity” have become staples in the theater community, and I truly believe that without Wicked, I might not be on my path to becoming an actor today. At about eight years old, I stumbled upon a social media video of a girl performing “Popular,” and I was instantly infatuated. Her singing was magical, and I found myself exploring the videos linked below, which led me to even more musical theater performances. I like to think of that day as my awakening as a theater kid. With the recent announcement of the Wicked movie adaptation, I am beyond excited! As someone who is also interested in film acting, I can’t wait to see how this musical story is brought to life on the big screen. Maybe it will inspire another eight year old girl just like me to look into musical theater and embrace the importance of creativity!

The roasted chicken on my plate would no doubt send me into anaphylaxis and would result in my death. At least, that’s what my brain’s malfunctioning limbic system led me to believe. During the early months of 2023, I had developed a sudden aversion to food. It would put my life in jeopardy, challenge my determination, and spark my passion for mental health advocacy. Each day I worked to eat despite my emotions, as the foods I once adored became foreign and scary. My parents made familiar meals to accommodate, but even after an hour of picking off all the chicken’s seasoning and taking a nibble of the bland meat, panic flooded my body, leaving my heart racing and the pale girl in the mirror shaking. By March, the only things I could stomach were microwaved dumplings and oatmeal. Recovery meant applying determination into learning to trust myself again. Today, I try and bring that same determination to everyday challenges. My recovery began with a Generalized Anxiety Disorder diagnosis; losing weight as fast as I was meant that major health consequences were inevitable without medical intervention. So, the doctors gave a girl fearful of familiar foods a brand-new substance and expected her to take it without rebellion. The doctors were optimists. When my mother placed that pill into my hand with a reassuring, “This will make you feel better.” I didn’t believe her. The pill was poison, and my own mother was feeding it to me. A reminder that when you are sick, no matter how you, “Remind yourself, your thoughts are not facts.” Hormones beat you every time. It took almost 2 hours and ended with the confession that my mom had been researching inpatient eating disorder facilities. But I took the pill. And as hard as it was to ask for help, it marked a turning point in my recovery, one that connected me to the broader mental health community and sparked my passion for advocacy, a path I plan to pursue in college and beyond! This new medication didn’t kill me; it became a safe and effective treatment to suppress my panic attacks. In combination with the support I received from my mom, who congratulated me on every milestone (the day I tried blackberries, she nearly threw me a party), recovery became easier. Going into college I intend to be a support system for others, creating a culture of community in an environment that introduces everyone to new social, academic, and environmental stressors. The day I could eat lunch with my friends again, I became less isolated. It was this support that opened so many doors of opportunity for me. And I hope to use my experience and be that positive influence on someone else! Today, I embrace my Anxiety and (more recent) ADHD diagnosis’ as essential pieces of my ‘new normal.’ This past summer I attended a school trip to Italy where I relished in the freedom of recovery, trying all sorts of new and delicious food! My involvement in the WAHS Leadership and Diversity program has only fed my passion for promoting mental health awareness, which I hope to continue with involvement in advocacy groups or with the creation of initiatives to support peers! And long-term I intend to continue advocating for mental health accommodations in academic facilities, ensuring that students are entering an environment where they can thrive, regardless of struggles. My eating disorder took a lot from me, but regaining my independence has given me so much more, and I can’t wait to take on whatever is next!

As a female who is considered “Twice-Exceptional” (both gifted and neurodivergent), I have faced many challenges at the hands of the American School System. It is these challenges that push me to advocate for my peers facing mental struggles. High school students not given proper resources, and their own teachers are not given the education to help guide their students. Just the other week my Psychology teacher used the term “ADD” (A term considered outdated by the American Psychiatric Association) to tell the story of a prior student. She describes a form given to her by a female student, (a teacher evaluation form often needed for ADHD diagnosis) and explains how she wrote about the girl’s “constant chatting during lessons, but perfect independent work” then she summarized, “It was obvious the girl didn’t have ADD, she was just chatty.” My heart sank. How could a psychology teacher of all people be so ignorant? I recalled upon my own ADHD diagnosis experience just a year prior. And the struggle I went through to obtain it with my “gifted kid” label. I still wonder where this girl is now, and if she given the chance she deserved. It was that experience that lead me to join my school’s Leadership and Diversity Club, a more recent addition to my district. I am working with teachers and other students to not only address accommodations for mental illness but also address systematic issues regarding race and gender discrimination. I also direct my focus to stress brought on by school. During my Sophomore year I grappled with disordered eating and an anxiety disorder diagnosis. Lunch brought on panic attacks and I was forced to sit in a windowless classroom to desperately focus on Math. An acceleration such as an after-lunch outdoor/free-time (similar to the recess that is discontinued once you reach high school). I wasn’t the only one in my inner circle with daunting mental heath struggles. That year I had talked two of my friends down from suicide. And saw anxious behavior to a lesser extent in the way my friends struggled with the stress school subjected them to. They spent lunch holed up in our schools theater room in search of comfort, spoke endlessly of the naps they hoped would fix days of sleep deprivation, and confided in peers about their own mental load. It is the normalization of this anxious behavior I hope will one day be addressed. It is the dismissal of these neurodivergent and mentally ill students that I work to address. I hope to continue my advocation into college as the workload continues to bring stress to students.

My name is Briana Blaszczyk, I am a high school senior and an actor. Like so many I want to inspire others, ensure proper representation, but also find myself in a financially stable position. I will be the first of my immediate family to graduate college, hopefully with a major in business and minor in acting but it takes a lot of money to do so. Living in a small Pennsylvanian town there are not many performing arts opportunities, but I find information and experience where I can get it. I relish actor stories found in social and literary media. And advance my own craft as an performer for my school’s theater department, a chamber/show choir member, PMEA district and region choir attendee, color-guard member, and as a volunteer for the younger actors in a neighboring community. Outside of my town I have found small success. Using Backstage (a self submission platform for actors) I apply to any audition I can get my hands on and recently stared in an NYU short film! These experiences only fuel my passion for the performing arts. I want to advocate and represent actors who find pieces of their story in mine. Feminine people, neurodivergent people, people from small towns. And uplift those who may come from families nothing like mine, but who persevere and dream to perform in spite of hardship. There is a saying, “There is a place for everyone in theater” and I feel truer words have not been spoken. There is a place for everyone in the media we consume. Now at 17 years old I am expected to choose “my calling”. As a child my dream was to be a “pop-star”. You can imagine in the early 2010’s, with the success and exploitation of Miley Cyrus and Justin Bieber, my parents didn’t love this idea. However, entering my tween years I dreamt of becoming a pediatric oncologist and they were quickly reassured I would be “successful”. It wasn’t until high school, after the pandemic and a difficult move from NY to PA, that I found myself back at the start. I re-joined theater and craved the same attention a pop-star may receive. Turns out theater doesn’t really give you lots of attention. As an ensemble member I was told where to stand and to be quiet (I didn’t feel like a pop-star), but upon our performances I realized being on stage was all the praise I could need! People weren’t watching me, they were watching “us””. They were watching a story, yet in a small way I was helping to create it! This revelation inspired me to continue theater the next year. Once again in ensemble. I wasn’t a star, but now I didn’t need to be because I was happy practicing for no one! It’s an invigorating feeling bowing at the end of the show. Not because you love the audience (most of the time the lights are too bright to even see them) but because you helped make a story for them. My experience with film acting has been much of the same. I am an actor. And I want everyone to know that they too have a place in the performing arts. Maybe their dream will be fulfilled bowing on a stage, just like mine happens to be!