Friday, February 11, 2011

The Path I'm Starting Down



Today at school, we were asked a question that I, personally, have most likely been asked over a thousand times so far in my life. "What do you want to be when you grow up?" Now that I am in high school, the nearness of this "growing up" is creeping its way into my thoughts. The question now enters my head as, "Now that you're almost there, what are you going to do?"

The first phrasing is much easier to answer than the second. When I was five, I was going to be a ballerina. When I turned seven, I planned to be a doctor in order to fix my Meme Freeman's bad knee. When I was eleven, I wanted to be a marine biologist. Although I am only fifteen, I've had my mind very much set on my most current goal and, although it is the most ambitious, I'll go ahead and say it. I want to become a professional actress. I'm not saying I want fame. I just want to go into a career based on the one passion in my life that brings me more joy than anything else.

But I know that this goal is much more spoken of than reached, and I find myself thinking often, "How on earth am I going to accomplish this?" After all, my older sister wanted to be an actress, and she found her way to accomplish this goal by attending a university and participating in a number of shows there. She's halfway through her freshman year and has already performed in two successful productions right here in Maine. But today in class, I was reminded of my real goal, one that, alright, I never actually forgot. One of my close friends, who knows all about my ambitious dreams, turned to me and smiled, "Tell her you're going to be on Broadway."

This is how I word my goals. I tell myself this sentence all the time out loud. Not as a question. Not as a hope. As a fact. "I am going to be on Broadway." I say to myself, and it always makes me smile. I'm not saying I plan to be the shining star with my face up there in lights, although I'd be lying if I said I didn't dream of it every so often. I just want to be in the ensemble. I want to be a part of that great dance number, that booming full chorus sound. I just want to feel my feet on the floor of that New York stage and the heat of the lights on a remarkable cast that I can call myself a part of.

But how? How can a girl from a small town, like me, get somewhere like that? I could get into some wonderful small-town community theater shows. I could probably even get a commercial gig or two. But Broadway?

This past year I've started making tiny amateur plans, telling people, "I'm going to go to a college within a bus distance or two of New York City. That way I can go to school and just keep auditioning until I get into something." Which sounds ambitious, but to a high school student, totally possible. But at the same time, there are hundreds of little tiny holes in this rough draft of a plan. Where will I get the money for bus tickets? How often will I go to New York? What will happen if I have to stay longer for extended auditions? How will I work, go to school, take academically challenging classes, go to auditions, study for tests, and get all my homework done in time? What if I meet someone? When will I spend time with friends? Do I plan to give up on writing? Am I planning to relax at all?

Breathing is good. Taking a minute to wrap my mind around those questions, the practical side of me shakes it's figurative little head. I'm sorry, Emma. It's just too much to handle. Stick with going to your college classes, finding a major. You're a smart girl. You can figure out another career path and have time for friends and have free time and have an amazing college experience. Part of me really wants that. Part of me can see a life for me in that, a really happy, fulfilled life that would lead to many opportunities.

But the other part of me is so gosh darn stubborn, and it wants me to just try this crazy plan. I don't want to give up. I don't want to look back years from now and say, "Oh! Why did you give up then? You didn't even fight!" It's impractical, yes. It may be a complete waste of my achievements in math and science, but (sorry Dad!) I don't want to be a mathematician or a scientist. I want to be an actress. I know it's important to have backup plans, and, believe me, I've got a bucket of them, but I'm not caving in to the worries, complaints, or adult tisks just yet.

Who knows, maybe I'll have a change of heart senior year and pursue Backup Plan #3: become a teacher. There may be hope for me yet. But for now I have my course set on this crazy, ambitious idea of mine, and since Plan #1 has always been simply to follow my heart, I've got myself headed in just the right direction.

2 comments:

  1. Emma, you are a very good writer. I love reading your posts.

    I'd like to share some thoughts on "the path you're starting down." I hope you don't mind.

    When I started homeschooling my kids ten years ago, I started to question the way we, as a society, do things. I asked questions like, "Why do we send our kids away from the people who love most of all when they are only five (or even younger)?" "Do I remember anything I learned in school?" (Not much.) "Why should anybody be expected to know what they want to do with the rest of their life when they are only 18?" "Is going to college right after high school, and effectively choosing the work you want to do for the rest of your life really a good idea?"

    Your parents and I probably have vastly different answers to these questions, but I know many, many people who are stuck in careers they hate, because "Well, that's what my degree is in. I spent all that money. I couldn't just start over." To them, I say, "Yes, you can." To you, I say, "Don't give up on your dreams without even trying to realize them." Is going to college for four years right after high school the best use of your time and money? It might be, but don't be afraid to explore your options, and don't be afraid to do what's right for you, even if it's not the right course of action for someone you respect.

    One more thing: you'd be amazed by how much freedom you have when you have little or no debt.

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  2. You, my dear girl, have more talent in the tip of your pinky finger than most people have in their entire body! (Of course I may be biased on that...) Follow your heart and continue to take time to listen to that little voice inside that smart beautiful head of yours. Do what you love. Just don't be surprised if what you love MOST changes over time.

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