returning to a first love
This is the second in our new series on decisions that have changed our lives. For the first installment, see here.
It was a dark, frigid evening in January when I signed up for an acting class at the YWCA in Manhattan. I was depressed, anxious and feeling stressed by my job.
My first professional position as a clinical social worker at a teaching hospital left me drained and repressed. My role as a therapist was to be an objective listener without showing any of my own personality. I couldn’t even make a joke, or so I believed at the time.
I knew I had to take care of myself and find an outlet.
What came to mind was my first love: drama and theater. Ever since the first grade, when I played a bonbon in a Christmas play, I had been smitten. And then I went on to write plays. My sixth-grade teacher commissioned me to write Christmas plays for the school for two consecutive years. I laughingly thought of myself as the “Eugene O’Neill of P.S. 59.”
Starting in high school I saw every play on Broadway I could get a student discount for. In college, I studied modern drama, play production and directing, but I was too shy and inhibited to take an acting class.
Fast forward to age 26, having completed my master’s in social work and feeling at loose ends, I decided to finally take a risk and signed up for the acting class.
The gods were in my favor because the instructor was a gem of a teacher and mentor. He had been at the Esalen institute (this was 1969) and we began with many relaxation exercises used for helping with personal growth and self-awareness.
I will never forget one of the first exercises we did when we had to imagine ourselves as trees. The feeling of freedom and joy imagining myself as a spruce tree in the woods swaying to the breeze was thrilling.
In an exercise helping us to be vulnerable in front of others, we enacted private moments in our lives that we presented to the class. The other class members became more likeable, rather than less so, as they shared their private selves. The experience released many of my inhibitions.
In some of the group exercises, especially one calling “milling,” I became aware that a degree of my sense of aloneness was self-imposed, as I stayed away from others. I could have saved a lot of money on prior therapy and had a lot more fun had I taken this class earlier and learned about myself.
The class was also meaningful because of the camaraderie with the other students. It was a time in my life when I didn’t have a social network so going to eat with other students after class was wonderful.
Then, of course, there was the experience of acting itself, taking on the lives of others. For me there is nothing more thrilling than acting in a play and having moments where the character emerges spontaneously from me as I say the lines.
During the time I took the classes, moving from the “Y” to the instructor’s private studio, I had the opportunity to be in two plays—one, playing a character my own age and then a role as a late middle-aged woman.
Within two years, I moved to another state for many reasons. But as soon as I unpacked, I auditioned for a play at the local community theater. It was in a barn!
I got a part. I was a mountain woman in the play, “Dark of the Moon.” Then I went on to roles in “Bells Are Ringing,” “Midsummer’s Night Dream” and many others.
I even played a hot, young Mexican woman of slightly ill-repute in the same play, “Summer and Smoke,” where I had played the middle-aged woman. I recall the lead-in music to my scene as Mrs. Winemiller; it was “Rag Mama Rag” by The Band.” The music gave me the saucy quality I wanted to convey in my interpretation. And the saucy quality stayed with me.
Ever since, acting has been one of the joys of my life. My decision to study acting on that cold winter evening was profound and life-changing. The decision to take the class not only helped me to become who I am, but also provided creative outlets in not only acting, but directing and writing as well.
And most of all, I gained more confidence in myself!