Everyone has their own "bitten by the bug" moment. This was mine.
I entered high school in 1975, and one of the required classes at CHS at the time was a combo speech/drama/debate class. I muddled through on the speech portion, but my grades fell far below C level when we entered the debate part of the class. The reason was simple: I was (and remain) lazy. Debate involves research, and that was too much work for a skate like me.
This would have become the first F on my report card, but Mr. Wedge Crouch (I kid you not, this is his real name. Google him.) decided to choose "1776" as our annual High School Musical (tm).
Now, if you haven't seen this show, I do recommend it. It plays a little fast & loose with the facts, but all in all an enjoyable patriotic romp, and especially appropriate when we were preparing for our nation's Bicentennial. But I do have to explain, if you haven't seen this show, that the cast contains a boatload of men, and only two women.
Have you ever tried to gather such a cast? It can be dang near impossible. I mean, it could have been worse - they could have tried to do Mister Roberts. Still, they had a hard time filling all the parts. This is where me and my F come in. The teacher of Speech/Drama/Debate was the director of the show. And he blackmailed me.
Mr. Crouch asked me to talk after class and he showed me that big red failure in his gradebook. Then he proposed a pact to make Satan proud. I pass the course, IF I do the show.
I didn't even have to think once, let alone twice. This was a legitimate school project that would GET ME OUT OF THE HOUSE. Home life, for me, was not exactly enjoyable. If I sat around the house, I was criticized for that. If I was out too long, I heard about that too. Heaven help me if I tried to help with any housework, that was considered women's work. I had no social life, being one of the nerds who never quite figured out what the heck it took to fit in. So it was school, science fiction, and sleep - that was my life.
So, hell yes. Throw me into that briar patch!
Not the most racist thing Disney has ever done
I was cast as George Reed, delegate from Delaware. Basically a toady for the Tories, only a few lines, and during one of our three performances I started paying too much attention to what I was doing and blanked (the actor's nightmare or the centipede's dilemma).
During rehearsals there was a lot of sitting around at tables. Most of us filled the time by scribbling jokes or pictures on the parchment sheets. The letters from George Washington could not be fully read aloud or our courier would have broken character every single night. We used our canes for counterpoint percussion during The Egg, even though most of us weren't technically in that particular song.
When we presented our gift to the director, the entire cast pantomimed his name.
I refused to comply when the director handed everyone a pair of white tights and told us all to shave our legs. O terrible actor, disregarding your director's wishes! Fact is, I was more than a little afraid of my folk's reaction to that particular act. My grandmother called my sexuality into question if I dried dishes. Huh-uh, no way. Of course, by that time my legs didn't have much hair on them anyway, so nobody noticed my rebellion.
Ah, wild youth.
This show was, however, the best thing to happen to me in high school, including losing my virginity. Sorry, Kathy.
This is because I was, for the first time in my life, accepted unconditionally. It wasn't for who or what I was - these people accepted me because I was part of the show. But it was enough. I was supported through the rough spots, lauded when I did well. The cast party was the first time I'd been invited to a party of any kind.
These were my people. I was home.
(edit: I got an A in the class)
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