I love performing because it is an art form which reflects social issues in order to create connections between people. Seeing "Indecent" (2015) by Paula Vogel this past summer reinforced why I love theater. This show is about the controversy surrounding the romance between two Jewish women in "The God of Vengeance" (1906). During its 1923 Broadway run, the actors were arrested on obscenity charges. Indecent tackles themes that are still relevant today, such as homophobia, anti-semitism, and censorship while depicting happiness and love. Portraying these themes with humanity helps the audience to connect with the characters and story. Even before I was truly able to grasp the abilities theater has to elicit empathy, I knew it was able to affect and inspire, which is why I first fell in love with it as a small child. As long as I can remember, I’ve been performing. I spent late nights singing and dancing in the theater of my local Jewish Community Center where I performed in plays and musicals. In fact, as I write this essay, I’m sitting in the greenroom of my high school theater, face full of makeup and a mic pack strapped to my back. The founder of the JCC's children's theater is still one of my biggest inspirations. I acted in three shows with her as my director, and she believed me when I did not believe in myself, always encouraging me. At the end of each rehearsal, the cast would sit in a circle, and each of us would compliment someone else in the cast. It would go until everyone received a compliment. She's the reason for my deep love of theater, which has continued to this day. This past year, I’ve acted in five productions and written two original plays for my high school theater department. In October, we put on the 24-Hour Plays, a series of ten-minute plays written, produced, and performed within twenty-four hours. I wrote one play and performed in another. I also wrote a one-act, “Claustrophobia,” about an unhoused family, for the annual One-Acts festival. My favorite role was Natalie in "Next to Normal," which I played in February. The local newspaper said the show was as good as professional productions, and the principal said it was the best show ever produced at my high school. I am extremely proud of the work we did, as the show addresses mental health awareness and the stigma surrounding it. In this production, a family hides how the mother’s bipolar disorder has driven them apart. By overworking herself, Natalie aims to be the “perfect” child, in hopes that her parents will pay attention to her. This was my first musical lead, and I plan to learn more about singing and musicals throughout college. One of my dream roles in Nina Rosario from "In the Heights." Her big song, "Breathe," is one of my favorite songs, and was the song I used to audition for Natalie. I love her story: a young, gifted Latina girl, who is struggling to keep her life together at Stanford University, while her community looks to her as a beacon of hope. I see a lot of myself in her, which is why I'm so drawn to her character. I will attend University of California, San Diego, in the fall, where I will double major in theater and literary arts. The UCSD theater department produces multiple plays per quarter, which gives me an opportunity to get involved onstage and behind the scenes. I have worked behind the scenes for multiple shows, mostly in wardrobe, as I enjoy exploring how a character’s costumes can impact audience interpretation. I’ve also painted sets and done stage makeup, as well as learned about special effects. In college, I hope to learn more about technical theater in a wider variety of departments. Additionally, the acclaimed La Jolla Playhouse, which has sent countless shows to Broadway, is in the UCSD theater district. As soon as I arrive on campus, I will try to be involved with them as an intern, usher, or Playhouse Partner. Working in the La Jolla Playhouse will help me make connections within the industry and allow me to see how I would enjoy a career in a professional theater.

Everyone on this eternally spinning globe has noticed that not everyone looks the same. Skins are different shades, hairs are different textures. And some people may not recognize it, but such simple factors about our appearances can deeply impact us. If I could have the entire world read one book, I would have everyone read Heather McGhee's, "The Sum of Us." I am personally not a huge fan of nonfiction, but this novel absolutely enthralled me. It so profoundly discusses issues of race, and racism's negative effects for everyone, not only people of color. These are also incredibly important issues that deeply affect countless people, and are extremely important to the continued growth of our society. Many towns across the United States had beautiful public swimming pools that were paid for with taxes. White families would swim there in the summers. However, a Supreme Court Case declared that because people of color also paid for the facilities through their taxes, the pools would need to be integrated. Most pools were drained or filled with concrete, rather than integrated, especially in the South. Currently, very few pools like this exist in the United States. Families either need to have their own private pool or pay for a membership in order to access a pool in the summertime, regardless of race. Additionally, many colleges in the United States used to be completely free, and those that were not, had significantly lower tuition costs. This meant that more students could access higher education. Of course, these students were all white. When people of color began accessing higher education, they began to raise the tuition, so they were not able to afford it. White families tend to have some generational wealth, but not families who are of racial minorities. This increase in tuition is extremely fascinating to me as a student, because universal college tuition would be extremely helpful. It would make my life less stressful because I wouldn't find myself competing with all of my peers. Overall, McGhee showed me just how various aspects of our world came to be, which were mind-blowing and eye-opening, and I believe more should delve into this aspect of our world, as it deeply affects everyone negatively. But we can work to change it if we're educated.

Jeremiah is the better brother for Belly. He treats her well and makes her happy, which is what she deserves. When she’s with Conrad, she is thrust into a rocky relationship, but with Jeremiah, she is truly and deeply loved. Jeremiah loves Belly for who she is, while Conrad can never quite accept her. When Belly first arrived at Cousins Beach and the brothers saw that she got contacts, Conrad unsolicitedly commented that he preferred her with glasses, which I personally find unnecessary and controlling. It didn’t change Jeremiah’s opinion of her at all, which it shouldn’t. She should be free to make her own decisions regarding her appearance, within reason, and glasses are within that jurisdiction. He also criticized her decision to become a debutante. This is not only hypocritical, as he was an escort the previous year, but it is also something he shouldn’t have a say in. In addition, Conrad has always sworn that she’s just a little girl to him, and he seemingly cannot grapple with the fact that she is growing up and changing, as proved by the contacts and debutante incidents. The most logical response to this sentiment is not to start a relationship. Jeremiah is a constant in Belly’s life. Belly is someone who needs a stable relationship, though she may not recognize it herself. Her life, throughout seasons one and two, is filled with constant ups and downs, like the death of Susannah and the chaos that comes with being a debutante. She needs a reliable partner who can be there for her, and this is consistently found in Jeremiah, who has always loved her. Jeremiah’s stability would help to anchor Belly, while the ups and downs of a relationship with Conrad would only hurt her more. In fact, the only time he didn’t show up for her, was the debutante partner dance, and it’s more than valid to skip a partner dance if one is busy crying over one’s mother’s secret cancer diagnosis and inevitable death. On the other hand, Conrad is extremely indecisive. Despite being older and supposedly more mature, he doesn’t seem to know what he wants. For example, he bought her an infinity necklace for her birthday, but he decided not to give her anything, rather than give her the necklace, because, in Jeremiah’s words, he is a coward. He only gives her the necklace after she already started something with Conrad, as a last-ditch attempt at keeping her in love with him. While he was her first love, she had a romanticized and naïve view of him. Throughout both seasons, he continuously refuses to confide in Belly, and often turns to other, less healthy coping mechanisms. They continuously hurt each other. He asks her loaded questions, like whether or not he or Jeremiah is the better kisser. Though many of these things take time to heal and grow from, he needs to mature before being able to maintain a stable and happy relationship with Belly, which Jeremiah is able and willing to provide this.

In third grade, my teacher assigned an “About Me” activity. Along the top, “What is your dream school?” was written in Comic Sans. In my primitive third-grade handwriting, I scrawled “Harvard” on the adjacent line. In eighth grade, I stared at a blinking cursor on my school chromebook, which asked me which college I would attend. I placed my fingers on the keys and tapped “UCLA” out. Sophomore year, I barely scraped through the second semester of pre-calc with an even ninety percent. I knew I would need a matching final grade in order to maintain the A, so I studied for a whole week, even going so far as to skip the end-of-year theater banquet, in order to earn the score I so deeply desired. I could not fathom lowering my perfect 4.0 GPA. I ended the class with an A. As long as I can remember, I have felt an intense desire to be the best: to go to an elite school, to bring home straight A’s, to be the type of person everyone else calls an overachiever. In the words of the brilliant Olivia Rodrigo, “I chased some dumb ideal my whole life” (pretty isn’t pretty). And though she is singing about the everchanging, impossibly perfect beauty standards, this can relate to nearly any aspect of life. So often, I find myself chasing ideals, which I don’t even know how I learned in the first place. How did I first hear of Harvard? Why did I decide that I needed a 4.0 GPA? Of course, I recognize that I am extremely privileged that I have been able to aim so high my entire life, and I deeply value what I have learned from my education. However, I also cannot help but wonder what my life would be like if I had not put so much pressure on myself. How would I feel without all that self-induced weight? Even though I’ve consistently aimed high, all my life, it feels like I always just fall short to second best. I won the President’s Award for Educational Achievement, but not Excellence. I have a pile of maroon ribbons sitting atop my dresser, large twos emblazoned in gold. In theater, always cast as the secondary character, never the lead. Always a top contender, just falling short of success. And it’s not like I’m not trying, which scares me, because what if this is my best? As I approach my senior year, I keep trudging through IB and AP courses, fighting for an even higher weighted GPA. I keep adding to schools with single-digit acceptance rates to my college spreadsheet. I keep hoping that I’ll find what it takes to reach the Ivy Leagues I’ve always dreamed of. I keep hoping some elite school will settle for a second best. I keep seeing myself as second best, though it is objectively impressive how much I’ve accomplished—when not in comparison to what I could have accomplished. Continuously chasing this dream is tiring me; is it even what’s best for me? In the song, Olivia made it clear that following the strict beauty standards only hurt her. I’m unsure if this is the same way. If and when I finally win something, place my first blue ribbon atop the mountain of red ones, will I even feel anything? I will have won the battle against my second-best mentality, but not the war against my addiction to success, and frankly, I don’t know if my appetite will ever be satisfied.