Tell us your Story - Wattpad Scholarship

Recipient 2: The Backseat Performer by smoakly

Life is complicated. There are good times and there are bad times. But, between all the good and bad, there's the middle, the median of sorts where you're not being tugged at full force off one way or another. Most of my life I've lived a fairly median life, or at least I try to. But when life decides to push back, how do you know when to you push back or not?

Performing was in my blood. My grandfather was a violinist, my mom was a choir singer and my uncle was an actor. Music and singing was the norm. Soon I found myself singing along with my mom and mimicking my uncle's dramatic flare, but there was one problem, my shyness.

For the longest time, I've always found my niche as a spectator, an avid watcher, a non-performer. It was strangely frightening having several pairs of eyes baring into your vision. As much as I would love to be spontaneous, I found myself resisting. Things were safer that way.

Flash forward the next nine years and one impulsive decision that altered my world.

"Welcome to theater," my drama teacher announced joyfully. There were mix reactions. Some cheered, some looked completely drowned out, and there was one completely frazzled junior who wistfully smiled despite the thousand butterflies in her stomach.

I was a small fish in a fairly large pond. For the first couple of months, I observed and joined my classmates when needed to, but still remained the quiet observer.

"Get into groups and pick a scene for a presentation." My teacher dismissed us as I struggled to contain my nerves. Presentation. As in get in front of the class and try not to hurl at their judging eyes. Psyching myself up for destruction seemed like an easy way for me to not try, but I've always done that. Giving up before I even had the chance to try proved to be an aimless gift and I was tired of it.

Memorizing lines was simple, but giving emotion to words was another obstacle I had to leap. My character was a mother, who tried desperately to keep her broken family together. How does one do that? As a seventeen year old, I had little parental experience and no where near the emotionally complexities of a patriarch.

Empathy and redirect. Harnessing similar emotions are about stepping away from yourself and inhabiting said character inside out. Putting yourself into their shoes is difficult to do, but you toy with the redirecting aspect. Channeling your struggle into the scene makes for a more convincing character. Delving into these particular characters broadens your mind and richer person. Acting gives you the freedom to dig deep within yourself and push boundaries which I was realizing is the what I needed all along.

"I'd like to audition for Sandy." It was exhilarating to say the least. Preparing for a part, no doubt a lead was a rigorous experience. After weeks of practicing, agonizing over the right song, and plenty of long deep breathes, I found myself on stage, staring into the eyes of my drama teacher, who grinned happily seeing firsthand me coming out of my shell, and the student director, who remained a courteous small beam as I tried to steady my racing heart. In the movies, I've imagined a giant spotlight, blocking my view, but there was none, subtract a pianist, all I had was me. Yet I never felt more courageous at this point. Being brave isn't about being fearless, it's facing your fears head first and choosing to push forward.

Being on stage felt so surreal. For the longest time, I've admired actors who walked on stage like it was home and now being a part of that was joining them. As I fluttered my eyes closed, I took a deep breath and exhaled, twitching my lips up in delight of the familiar tune. Although, I didn't get the lead, my confidence swelled. I could do it. I can. There's nothing stopping me.

After many major switches from history to law, I've finally found peace in writing. Acting on impulse, I plunged myself into a creative writing class, where I got my writing fix. Being in a room full of writers was as intimidating as that theater class, for these people were experienced and creatively cultured. Much to my surprise all of us felt the same anxiety. Our works were like our children. Each of us understood the fragility of first drafts, the exhilarating rush stroke of a perfectly crafted combination of words. We were writers and thus bonded us in a deeper level.

"I'm a writer," came my opening statement four years later in a room full of cousins, aunts, uncles, brothers, and friends. It was my twenty-first birthday to be exact that I finally broke the news of my elusive career choice to everyone in the room.

Granted, they were mid-chewing on a slab of steak and pretty loose with the glasses, but it was now or never.

Staring at my wide-eyed family, I couldn't help but laugh at their reactions. Deep in my heart, I knew this was my calling. Creating stories that people heard or haven't and bringing characters to life is embedded in my soul. My mother was the first one to congratulate me and like a pack of dominos, all fell in the right place.

As I think back on that day, I faintly smile at my seventeen year old self for taking risks. I performed in three plays, occasionally sang for my local church, and dance as much as I can. As for writing, I've become more secure with myself and grabbing opportunities which have proven to be beneficial.

It's okay to step out of your median life and head for something way on the other end of the spectrum. Who knows it could lead to something better. But you'll never know unless you take the chance. Risks isn't about extreme chances for a big reward. It's about taking small chances that you know can lead to something more.

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This story is originally published here: https://www.wattpad.com/155708853-the-backseat-performer-scholarship-2015-the