“I wish I spent more time worrying about how my life felt rather than how it looked to others”.
I sat across from a 73-year-old woman at Worthington Christian Village. My involvement with musical theater led me to volunteer with Columbus Association for the Performing Arts (CAPAs) ARISE (ARts through Intergenerational Social Engagement) program to share the arts with older adults.
“Honey, don’t let everyone else tell you how you’re supposed to do things. Do this, what makes you happy. Find people that make you feel a little less scared.”
I’m glad to say that I think I have done just that.
Entering high school in 2020, I was a completely different person. Previously, middle school me had learned quickly that kids were mean and fitting in came with a very strict set of rules. I wore clothes I didn’t like, played sports I wasn’t interested in, and had friends who made me feel like I had to adopt an alternate personality. Vocal music had always been my passion, and I was praised by adults for my talent, but I alienated myself from all things art to avoid the label of “choir kid.” I took voice lessons but never rose to the performance level. Theater was something I didn’t dare try, partially because I was worried I wouldn’t be good enough, and partly because, again, I was overcome with the need to belong.
The COVID-19 pandemic was a lonely time for everyone. I slowly started losing contact with the “friends” I had. From this, I gained an understanding of what makes a true relationship and how to maintain it.
Without my former friendships, I was left feeling lost and without a place– a puzzle piece that didn’t fit. Freshman year was a jumble of trying to find my “thing.” As I scheduled my classes for sophomore year, I hesitantly selected choir.
Funnily enough, I wound up stuck in the Symphonic Choir for upperclassmen. I tried to switch out, but my schedule didn’t line up with anything else. And so, I stayed. That year I silently observed the diligent work, talent, and bond between the juniors and seniors in the choir program. I felt like I was a part of something important. I was doing what I knew I was good at.
A fellow underclassman in the group, now one of my closest friends, encouraged me to audition for the musical once winter arrived. I fondly remember him telling me he would call me every single day until I said yes. I was hesitant, of course, but I auditioned for the ensemble of “42nd Street” that year and was welcomed into a community of the kindest, most close-knit individuals I had ever met. The stage felt like a second world, unlike any I had experienced before. I found it. Exactly “my thing.” The puzzle piece was in place.
Junior year, I applied my newfound love to everything I did. I joined a second choir and auditioned for a named role in “Beauty and the Beast”. After being cast as Babette, I ended up winning a CAPA Marquee Award for Best Actress in a Supporting Role. After only two years of theater, I had been recognized for a talent I didn’t even think I possessed. Never in my life had I experienced more happiness, love, and connectivity.
This year, art is in everything I do. Volunteering, extracurriculars, singing, acting, fine art, you name it. Any opportunity to perform or create has me first in line. And, of course, the people. At the end of every day, I am glad to call myself a “choir kid.” From Vocal Ensemble gigs to spending a week in NYC, I can’t imagine a group of people I’d rather spend my time with.
My advice to anyone struggling with their sense of belonging is to try new things. The most important relationships in my life have been formed through the performing arts. If there is something you are interested in, go for it. Who knows where I would be now if not for the lovely individuals I sing with every single day. The opportunities at UAHS are endless with so many different paths to take, and I know I will look back on this time with nothing but tenderness. Please, worry about how your life feels, not how it looks.
