![user profile avatar](https://static.bold.org/profilePictures/dsc08500706e91588b4f47df8428546c0a03dd6f.webp)
Clifton, NJ
Age
17
Gender
Female
Ethnicity
Hispanic/Latino
Hobbies and interests
Acting And Theater
Choir
Animation
Gaming
Volunteering
Hair Styling
Journaling
Karaoke
Music
Babysitting And Childcare
Board Games And Puzzles
Minecraft
Reading
Reading
Adult Fiction
Drama
Fantasy
Action
Horror
Gothic
Mystery
Thriller
I read books multiple times per month
US CITIZENSHIP
US Citizen
Chloe Hernandez
1,085
Bold Points1x
Finalist![user profile avatar](https://static.bold.org/profilePictures/dsc08500706e91588b4f47df8428546c0a03dd6f.webp)
Chloe Hernandez
1,085
Bold Points1x
FinalistBio
I am an aspiring performer who is passionate about making the arts an accessible space for all. I've been involved in the performing arts for 10+ years, participating in choirs, dance class, and musical theatre. I plan to attend Emerson College in the fall, pursuing my lifelong dreams and earning my BFA in Musical Theatre. Throughout my career, I've faced plenty of hardships on all fronts. Circumstances that I can't control, like my appearance, financial standing or my ethnicity, have been used to keep me out of audition rooms and isolate me in rehearsal spaces. Entering the theatre world as a college student this year, one of my long term career goals is to be a driving force in making theatre more inclusive and accessible to all those who seek it out. When I'm not on stage or in a rehearsal space, you can most likely find me reading a book, doing a puzzle, or playing a game (video or board). I also involve myself in my community in broader ways. My senior year of high school I had the honor of participating in my district's Heroes and Cool Kids program. We visit our middle schools multiple times a year teaching them important skills that help them move through adolescence and make smart decisions. It makes me so happy to get to share advice I wish I had in middle school to today's students. I've worked multiple jobs, my most recent positions being an Early Childhood Educator at Bach 2 Rock Music School and a Camp Counselor at the YMCA. Any scholarship would mean the world to me.
Education
Clifton High School
High SchoolGPA:
3.8
Miscellaneous
Desired degree level:
Bachelor's degree program
Majors of interest:
- Drama/Theatre Arts and Stagecraft
- Education, Other
- Computer Science
Test scores:
1200
SAT
Career
Dream career field:
Performing Arts
Dream career goals:
To make theatre an accessible space for all
Theatre Camp Counselor
YMCA Wyckoff2024 – Present8 monthsBrand Representative
Hollister Co.2022 – 20242 yearsEarly Childhood Educator
Bach 2 Rock Music School2023 – 20241 year
Sports
Soccer
Club2017 – 20203 years
Arts
Clifton High School Drama Department
TheatreBeauty and The Beast, Hello, Dolly!, Chicago: Teen Edition, The Greek Mythology Olympiaganza, Songs to Keep Us Strong Musical Revue2020 – Present
Public services
Volunteering
Heroes and Cool Kids — Mentor2023 – 2024
Future Interests
Advocacy
Volunteering
Philanthropy
Alexis Mackenzie Memorial Scholarship for the Arts
I consider myself to be a social sponge. Not a butterfly, but a sponge. If I’m surrounded by highly motivated performers, I become highly motivated, and vice versa. I learned this about myself the hard way. In junior year of high school, I was given the opportunity to understudy the role of Velma Kelly. I was over the moon to be given the chance to even sniff at this role and to return to the enriching environment I knew. I found something I was made fun of during rehearsals, told I wasn’t allowed to rehearse with the “real leads,” and directors often refused to even call me by my name. The environment became draining, and it wasn’t just me that was affected by this, it was our whole cast. Members new and old of our program felt isolated and it became hard for us to work as a unit. After closing, I had no motivation to continue performing. How could I have any after spending a year being beaten down not only by my peers but my teachers too? If this is just what high school is like, what is the professional world like? Am I cut out for this? Why even bother auditioning for colleges?
Eventually, my senior show, Hello, Dolly!, was announced. To say I was reluctant would be an understatement. I feared that the things that nearly pushed me out of the program a year ago wouldn’t have changed. What do I do to make sure I don’t get treated the way I was last year? Is it even worth it to audition? I decided to show up to auditions last minute, and I am so glad I did. As honored as I was to play the one and only Mrs. Dolly Levi herself, it was the camaraderie that truly inspired me.
As we began rehearsals, I felt very stuck in my own head. Haunted by past experiences, I didn’t think I could afford to mess up because it showed a weakness I feared others would take advantage of. I vividly remember the day something switched in me. I finally had a break during rehearsal and got to watch our dancers rehearse and I realized that nobody was doing it perfectly. I watched a pair of dancers laughing together as they stumbled across the stage, a line being completely fumbled and giggled through, and overall, pure joy emanating from every person on stage. It was then that I learned a value I cherish deeply.
To work with a team of your peers is to be unified by a general idea or goal. To work with a team of fellow artists, however, is to be unified by something different. You are brought together by the knowledge that whether the product of your work is good or bad, you had fun creating it and it evoked something in the souls of those who interact with it, including you. Your connection to the art is what allows the rest of the world to connect to it as well, and the process of making that art is extremely important to that connection.
In my career, I vow to create the safe space I wish I had for others to make their art free of judgement or boundaries.
Al Luna Memorial Design Scholarship
I consider myself to be a social sponge. Not a butterfly, but a sponge. If I’m surrounded by highly motivated performers, I become highly motivated, and vice versa. I learned this about myself the hard way. In junior year of high school, I was given the opportunity to understudy the role of Velma Kelly. I was over the moon to be given the chance to even sniff at this role and to return to the enriching environment I knew. I found something I was made fun of during rehearsals, told I wasn’t allowed to rehearse with the “real leads,” and directors often refused to even call me by my name. The environment became draining, and it wasn’t just me that was affected by this, it was our whole cast. Members new and old of our program felt isolated and it became hard for us to work as a unit. After closing, I had no motivation to continue performing. How could I have any after spending a year being beaten down not only by my peers but my teachers too? If this is just what high school is like, what is the professional world like? Am I cut out for this? Why even bother auditioning for colleges?
Eventually, my senior show, Hello, Dolly!, was announced. To say I was reluctant would be an understatement. I feared that the things that nearly pushed me out of the program a year ago wouldn’t have changed. What do I do to make sure I don’t get treated the way I was last year? Is it even worth it to audition? I decided to show up to auditions last minute, and I am so glad I did. As honored as I was to play the one and only Mrs. Dolly Levi herself, it was the camaraderie that truly inspired me.
As we began rehearsals, I felt very stuck in my own head. Haunted by past experiences, I felt like I had something to prove. I didn’t think I could afford to mess up because it showed a weakness I feared others would take advantage of. I vividly remember the day something switched in me. I finally had a break during rehearsal and got to watch our dancers rehearse and I realized that nobody was doing it perfectly. I watched a pair of dancers laughing together as they stumbled across the stage, a line being completely fumbled and giggled through, and overall, pure joy emanating from every person on stage. It was then that I learned a value I cherish deeply.
To work with a team of your peers is to be unified by a general idea or goal. To work with a team of fellow artists, however, is to be unified by something different. The “one beat” of the “one heart” that a cast shares rings out with the knowledge that whether the product of your work is good or bad, you had fun creating it and it evoked something in the souls of those who interact with it, including you. Your connection to the art is what allows the rest of the world to connect to it as well, and the process of making that art is extremely important to that connection..
From then on, I vowed that while I would continue being a social sponge, I’d make an effort to “wring myself out” into other people and make them feel welcome in ways I wished I was. In my career, I will work to instill the feeling of having “one heart” singing “one beat” of the true gift of art: pure joy.
Frank and Nelcie Williams Memorial Scholarship
I consider myself to be a social sponge. Not a butterfly, but a sponge. If I’m surrounded by highly motivated performers, I become highly motivated, and vice versa. I learned this about myself the hard way. In junior year of high school, I was given the opportunity to understudy the role of Velma Kelly. I was over the moon to be given the chance to even sniff at this role and to return to the enriching environment I knew. I found something I was made fun of during rehearsals, told I wasn’t allowed to rehearse with the “real leads,” and directors often refused to even call me by my name. The environment became draining, and it wasn’t just me that was affected by this, it was our whole cast. Members new and old of our program felt isolated and it became hard for us to work as a unit. After closing, I had no motivation to continue performing. How could I have any after spending a year being beaten down not only by my peers but my teachers too? If this is just what high school is like, what is the professional world like? Am I cut out for this? Why even bother auditioning for colleges?
Eventually, my senior show, Hello, Dolly!, was announced. To say I was reluctant would be an understatement. I feared that the things that nearly pushed me out of the program a year ago wouldn’t have changed. What do I do to make sure I don’t get treated the way I was last year? Is it even worth it to audition? I decided to show up to auditions last minute, and I am so glad I did. As honored as I was to play the one and only Mrs. Dolly Levi herself, it was the camaraderie that truly inspired me.
As we began rehearsals, I felt very stuck in my own head. Haunted by past experiences, I felt like I had something to prove. I didn’t think I could afford to mess up because it showed a weakness I feared others would take advantage of. I vividly remember the day something switched in me. I finally had a break during rehearsal and got to watch our dancers rehearse and I realized that nobody was doing it perfectly. I watched a pair of dancers laughing together as they stumbled across the stage, a line being completely fumbled and giggled through, and overall, pure joy emanating from every person on stage. It was then that I learned a value I cherish deeply.
To work with a team of your peers is to be unified by a general idea or goal. To work with a team of fellow artists, however, is to be unified by something different. The “one beat” of the “one heart” that a cast shares rings out with the knowledge that whether the product of your work is good or bad, you had fun creating it and it evoked something in the souls of those who interact with it, including you. Your connection to the art is what allows the rest of the world to connect to it as well, and the process of making that art is extremely important to that connection..
From then on, I vowed that while I would continue being a social sponge, I’d make an effort to “wring myself out” into other people and make them feel welcome in ways I wished I was. In my career, I will work to instill the feeling of having “one heart” singing “one beat” of the true gift of art: pure joy.
Simon Strong Scholarship
I consider myself to be a social sponge. Not a butterfly, but a sponge. If I’m surrounded by highly motivated performers, I become highly motivated, and vice versa. I learned this about myself the hard way. In junior year of high school, I was given the opportunity to understudy the role of Velma Kelly. I was over the moon to be given the chance to even sniff at this role and to return to the enriching environment I knew. I found something I was made fun of during rehearsals, told I wasn’t allowed to rehearse with the “real leads,” and directors often refused to even call me by my name. The environment became draining, and it wasn’t just me that was affected by this, it was our whole cast. Members new and old of our program felt isolated and it became hard for us to work as a unit. After closing, I had no motivation to continue performing. How could I have any after spending a year being beaten down not only by my peers but my teachers too? If this is just what high school is like, what is the professional world like? Am I cut out for this? Why even bother auditioning for colleges?
Eventually, my senior show, Hello, Dolly!, was announced. To say I was reluctant would be an understatement. I feared that the things that nearly pushed me out of the program a year ago wouldn’t have changed. What do I do to make sure I don’t get treated the way I was last year? Is it even worth it to audition? I decided to show up to auditions last minute, and I am so glad I did. As honored as I was to play the one and only Mrs. Dolly Levi herself, it was the camaraderie that truly inspired me.
As we began rehearsals, I felt very stuck in my own head. Haunted by past experiences, I felt like I had something to prove. I didn’t think I could afford to mess up because it showed a weakness I feared others would take advantage of. I vividly remember the day something switched in me. I finally had a break during rehearsal and got to watch our dancers rehearse and I realized that nobody was doing it perfectly. I watched a pair of dancers laughing together as they stumbled across the stage, a line being completely fumbled and giggled through, and overall, pure joy emanating from every person on stage. It was then that I learned a value I cherish deeply.
To work with a team of your peers is to be unified by a general idea or goal. To work with a team of fellow artists, however, is to be unified by something different. The “one beat” of the “one heart” that a cast shares rings out with the knowledge that whether the product of your work is good or bad, you had fun creating it and it evoked something in the souls of those who interact with it, including you. Your connection to the art is what allows the rest of the world to connect to it as well, and the process of making that art is extremely important to that connection..
From then on, I vowed that while I would continue being a social sponge, I’d make an effort to “wring myself out” into other people and make them feel welcome in ways I wished I was. In my career, I will work to instill the feeling of having “one heart” singing “one beat” of the true gift of art: pure joy.
Jeff Stanley Memorial Scholarship
I consider myself to be a social sponge. Not a butterfly, but a sponge. If I’m surrounded by highly motivated performers, I become highly motivated, and vice versa. I learned this about myself the hard way. In junior year of high school, I was given the opportunity to understudy the role of Velma Kelly. I was over the moon to be given the chance to even sniff at this role and to return to the enriching environment I knew. I found something I was made fun of during rehearsals, told I wasn’t allowed to rehearse with the “real leads,” and directors often refused to even call me by my name. The environment became draining, and it wasn’t just me that was affected by this, it was our whole cast. Members new and old of our program felt isolated and it became hard for us to work as a unit. After closing, I had no motivation to continue performing. How could I have any after spending a year being beaten down not only by my peers but my teachers too? If this is just what high school is like, what is the professional world like? Am I cut out for this? Why even bother auditioning for colleges?
Eventually, my senior show, Hello, Dolly!, was announced. To say I was reluctant would be an understatement. I feared that the things that nearly pushed me out of the program a year ago wouldn’t have changed. What do I do to make sure I don’t get treated the way I was last year? Is it even worth it to audition? I decided to show up to auditions last minute, and I am so glad I did. As honored as I was to play the one and only Mrs. Dolly Levi herself, it was the camaraderie that truly inspired me.
As we began rehearsals, I felt very stuck in my own head. Haunted by past experiences, I felt like I had something to prove. I didn’t think I could afford to mess up because it showed a weakness I feared others would take advantage of. I vividly remember the day something switched in me. I finally had a break during rehearsal and got to watch our dancers rehearse and I realized that nobody was doing it perfectly. I watched a pair of dancers laughing together as they stumbled across the stage, a line being completely fumbled and giggled through, and overall, pure joy emanating from every person on stage. It was then that I learned a value I cherish deeply.
To work with a team of your peers is to be unified by a general idea or goal. To work with a team of fellow artists, however, is to be unified by something different. The “one beat” of the “one heart” that a cast shares rings out with the knowledge that whether the product of your work is good or bad, you had fun creating it and it evoked something in the souls of those who interact with it, including you. Your connection to the art is what allows the rest of the world to connect to it as well, and the process of making that art is extremely important to that connection..
From then on, I vowed that while I would continue being a social sponge, I’d make an effort to “wring myself out” into other people and make them feel welcome in ways I wished I was. In my career, I will work to instill the feeling of having “one heart” singing “one beat” of the true gift of art: pure joy.
WCEJ Thornton Foundation Music & Art Scholarship
I consider myself to be a social sponge. Not a butterfly, but a sponge. If I’m surrounded by highly motivated performers, I become highly motivated, and vice versa. I learned this about myself the hard way. Junior year, I was given the opportunity to understudy the role of Velma Kelly. I was over the moon to be given the chance to sniff at this role and to return to the enriching environment I knew. I found something I was made fun of during rehearsals, told I wasn’t allowed to rehearse with the “real leads,” and directors often refused to even call me by my name. The environment became draining, and it wasn’t just me that was affected by this, it was our whole cast. Members of our program felt isolated and it became hard for us to work together. After closing, I had no motivation to continue performing. How could I have any after spending a year being beaten down not only by my peers but my teachers too? If this is what high school is like, what is the professional world like? Why bother auditioning for colleges?
I feared the things that nearly pushed me out of the program a year ago wouldn’t have changed. Is it even worth it to audition? I decided to show up to auditions last minute, and I am so glad I did. The camaraderie was truly inspiring.
I vividly remember the day something switched in me. I finally had a break during rehearsal and got to watch our dancers rehearse and I realized that nobody was doing it perfectly. I watched a pair of dancers laughing together as they stumbled across the stage, a line being and overall, pure joy emanating from every person on stage.
To work with a team of fellow artists is to be unified by something unique. A cast knows that whether the product of your work is good or bad, you had fun creating it and it evoked something in the souls of those who interact with it, including you. From then on, I vowed that while I would continue being a social sponge, I’d make an effort to “wring myself out” into other people and make them feel welcome in ways I wished I was. In my career, I sing out the most important thing art provides: pure joy.
John Young 'Pursue Your Passion' Scholarship
For as long as I can remember, performing has been my dream. Stepping into baby ballet, I would race to my favorite spot on the studio floor and give myself a gap-toothed smile in the mirror. It was truly everything to me, and just when I thought I couldn't be more in love with something, I was cast in my school's production of The Aristocats. From the second grade onward, I was set on becoming a titan of the stage. I made my big debut as Jazz Cat, and although to the audience of parents and grandparents, it was a 30 minute performance where my classmates and I got to dress as cats, to me, it was something else entirely. To get to move through the whole rehearsal process where I got to learn something new every second, a line, lyric, or step, opened up a whole new world for me. Telling that story brought me so much joy, and everything in me wanted to continue that feeling, and share it with others. Ten years later, I’m still performing. I still carry the desire to tell a story and sing a song, only now with the extra hope to create a welcoming environment for all. Theatre has given me so much confidence, pride, and joy, and because of it, I will always greet the little girl in the studio mirror looking back at me with a now gapless (thanks, braces) smile.
John Traxler Theatre Scholarship
I consider myself to be a social sponge. Not a butterfly, but a sponge. If I’m surrounded by highly motivated performers, I become highly motivated, and vice versa. I learned this about myself the hard way. In junior year of high school, I was given the opportunity to understudy the role of Velma Kelly. I was over the moon to be given the chance to even sniff at this role and to return to the enriching environment I knew. I found something I was made fun of during rehearsals, told I wasn’t allowed to rehearse with the “real leads,” and directors often refused to even call me by my name. The environment became draining, and it wasn’t just me that was affected by this, it was our whole cast. Members new and old of our program felt isolated and it became hard for us to work as a unit. After closing, I had no motivation to continue performing. How could I have any after spending a year being beaten down not only by my peers but my teachers too? If this is just what high school is like, what is the professional world like? Am I cut out for this? Why even bother auditioning for colleges?
Eventually, my senior show, Hello, Dolly!, was announced. To say I was reluctant would be an understatement. I feared that the things that nearly pushed me out of the program a year ago wouldn’t have changed. What do I do to make sure I don’t get treated the way I was last year? Is it even worth it to audition? I decided to show up to auditions last minute, and I am so glad I did. As honored as I was to play the one and only Mrs. Dolly Levi herself, it was the camaraderie that truly inspired me.
As we began rehearsals, I felt very stuck in my own head. Haunted by past experiences, I felt like I had something to prove. I didn’t think I could afford to mess up because it showed a weakness I feared others would take advantage of. I vividly remember the day something switched in me. I finally had a break during rehearsal and got to watch our dancers rehearse and I realized that nobody was doing it perfectly. I watched a pair of dancers laughing together as they stumbled across the stage, a line being completely fumbled and giggled through, and overall, pure joy emanating from every person on stage. It was then that I learned a value I cherish deeply.
To work with a team of your peers is to be unified by a general idea or goal. To work with a team of fellow artists, however, is to be unified by something different. The “one beat” of the “one heart” that a cast shares rings out with the knowledge that whether the product of your work is good or bad, you had fun creating it and it evoked something in the souls of those who interact with it, including you. Your connection to the art is what allows the rest of the world to connect to it as well, and the process of making that art is extremely important to that connection..
From then on, I vowed that while I would continue being a social sponge, I’d make an effort to “wring myself out” into other people and make them feel welcome in ways I wished I was. In my career, I will work to instill the feeling of having “one heart” singing “one beat” of the true gift of art: pure joy.
College Kick-Start Scholarship
I consider myself to be a social sponge. Not a butterfly, but a sponge. If I’m surrounded by highly motivated performers, I become highly motivated, and vice versa. I learned this about myself the hard way. In junior year of high school, I was given the opportunity to understudy the role of Velma Kelly. I was over the moon to be given the chance to even sniff at this role and to return to the enriching environment I knew. I found something I was made fun of during rehearsals, told I wasn’t allowed to rehearse with the “real leads,” and directors often refused to even call me by my name. The environment became draining, and it wasn’t just me that was affected by this, it was our whole cast. Members new and old of our program felt isolated and it became hard for us to work as a unit. After closing, I had no motivation to continue performing. How could I have any after spending a year being beaten down not only by my peers but my teachers too? If this is just what high school is like, what is the professional world like? Am I cut out for this? Why even bother auditioning for colleges?
Eventually, my senior show, Hello, Dolly!, was announced. To say I was reluctant would be an understatement. I feared that the things that nearly pushed me out of the program a year ago wouldn’t have changed. What do I do to make sure I don’t get treated the way I was last year? Is it even worth it to audition? I decided to show up to auditions last minute, and I am so glad I did. As honored as I was to play the one and only Mrs. Dolly Levi herself, it was the camaraderie that truly inspired me.
As we began rehearsals, I felt very stuck in my own head. Haunted by past experiences, I felt like I had something to prove. I didn’t think I could afford to mess up because it showed a weakness I feared others would take advantage of. I vividly remember the day something switched in me. I finally had a break during rehearsal and got to watch our dancers rehearse and I realized that nobody was doing it perfectly. I watched a pair of dancers laughing together as they stumbled across the stage, a line being completely fumbled and giggled through, and overall, pure joy emanating from every person on stage. It was then that I learned a value I cherish deeply.
To work with a team of your peers is to be unified by a general idea or goal. To work with a team of fellow artists, however, is to be unified by something different. The “one beat” of the “one heart” that a cast shares rings out with the knowledge that whether the product of your work is good or bad, you had fun creating it and it evoked something in the souls of those who interact with it, including you. Your connection to the art is what allows the rest of the world to connect to it as well, and the process of making that art is extremely important to that connection..
From then on, I vowed that while I would continue being a social sponge, I’d make an effort to “wring myself out” into other people and make them feel welcome in ways I wished I was. In my career, I will work to instill the feeling of having “one heart” singing “one beat” of the true gift of art: pure joy.
Carolyn Talbert Performing Arts Scholarship
I consider myself to be a social sponge. Not a butterfly, but a sponge. If I’m surrounded by highly motivated performers, I become highly motivated, and vice versa. I learned this about myself the hard way. In junior year of high school, I was given the opportunity to understudy the role of Velma Kelly. I was over the moon to be given the chance to even sniff at this role and to return to the enriching environment I knew. I found something I was made fun of during rehearsals, told I wasn’t allowed to rehearse with the “real leads,” and directors often refused to even call me by my name. The environment became draining, and it wasn’t just me that was affected by this, it was our whole cast. Members new and old of our program felt isolated and it became hard for us to work as a unit. After closing, I had no motivation to continue performing. How could I have any after spending a year being beaten down not only by my peers but my teachers too? If this is just what high school is like, what is the professional world like? Am I cut out for this? Why even bother auditioning for colleges?
Eventually, my senior show, "Hello, Dolly!", was announced. To say I was reluctant would be an understatement. I feared that the things that nearly pushed me out of the program a year ago wouldn’t have changed. What do I do to make sure I don’t get treated the way I was last year? Is it even worth it to audition? I decided to show up to auditions last minute, and I am so glad I did. As honored as I was to play the one and only Mrs. Dolly Levi herself, it was the camaraderie that truly inspired me.
As we began rehearsals, I felt very stuck in my own head. Haunted by past experiences, I felt like I had something to prove. I didn’t think I could afford to mess up because it showed a weakness I feared others would take advantage of. I vividly remember the day something switched in me. I finally had a break during rehearsal and got to watch our dancers rehearse and I realized that nobody was doing it perfectly. I watched a pair of dancers laughing together as they stumbled across the stage, a line being completely fumbled and giggled through, and overall, pure joy emanating from every person on stage. It was then that I learned a value I cherish deeply.
To work with a team of your peers is to be unified by a general idea or goal. To work with a team of fellow artists, however, is to be unified by something different. The “one beat” of the “one heart” that a cast shares rings out with the knowledge that whether the product of your work is good or bad, you had fun creating it and it evoked something in the souls of those who interact with it, including you. Your connection to the art is what allows the rest of the world to connect to it as well, and the process of making that art is extremely important to that connection..
From then on, I vowed that while I would continue being a social sponge, I’d make an effort to “wring myself out” into other people and make them feel welcome in ways I wished I was. In my career, I will work to instill the feeling of having “one heart” singing “one beat” of the true gift of art: pure joy.
Commitment to Excellence Scholarship
I consider myself to be a social sponge. Not a butterfly, but a sponge. If I’m surrounded by highly motivated performers, I become highly motivated, and vice versa. I learned this about myself the hard way. In junior year of high school, I was given the opportunity to understudy the role of Velma Kelly. I was over the moon to be given the chance to even sniff at this role and to return to the enriching environment I knew. I found something I was made fun of during rehearsals, told I wasn’t allowed to rehearse with the “real leads,” and directors often refused to even call me by my name. The environment became draining, and it wasn’t just me that was affected by this, it was our whole cast. Members new and old of our program felt isolated and it became hard for us to work as a unit. After closing, I had no motivation to continue performing. How could I have any after spending a year being beaten down not only by my peers but my teachers too? If this is just what high school is like, what is the professional world like? Am I cut out for this? Why even bother auditioning for colleges?
Eventually, my senior show, "Hello, Dolly!", was announced. To say I was reluctant would be an understatement. I feared that the things that nearly pushed me out of the program a year ago wouldn’t have changed. What do I do to make sure I don’t get treated the way I was last year? Is it even worth it to audition? I decided to show up to auditions last minute, and I am so glad I did. As honored as I was to play the one and only Mrs. Dolly Levi herself, it was the camaraderie that truly inspired me.
As we began rehearsals, I felt very stuck in my head. Haunted by past experiences, I felt like I had something to prove. I didn’t think I could afford to mess up because it showed a weakness I feared others would take advantage of. I vividly remember the day something switched in me. I finally had a break during rehearsal and got to watch our dancers rehearse and I realized that nobody was doing it perfectly. I watched a pair of dancers laughing together as they stumbled across the stage, a line being completely fumbled and giggled through, and overall, pure joy emanating from every person on stage. It was then that I learned a value I cherish deeply.
To work with a team of your peers is to be unified by a general idea or goal. To work with a team of fellow artists, however, is to be unified by something different. The “one beat” of the “one heart” that a cast shares rings out with the knowledge that whether the product of your work is good or bad, you had fun creating it and it evoked something in the souls of those who interact with it, including you. Your connection to the art is what allows the rest of the world to connect to it as well, and the process of making that art is extremely important to that connection.
From then on, I vowed that while I would continue being a social sponge, I’d make an effort to “wring myself out” into other people and make them feel welcome in ways I wished I was. In my career, I will work to instill the feeling of having “one heart” singing “one beat” of the true gift of art: pure joy.