School Love

(D-Train, me, and Newbie after a play-reading. 05/22/09)

I'm officially in Connecticut for the summer. It's the home of my parents, but I've never lived here before, so it doesn't yet feel like home to me.

Before I left Florida, life got crazy, as life often does. Daniel basically moved in with my for a month. We spent few days in Tallahassee. We spent a couple of days in Disney World. We tried to make the most of the time we had together.

(As a side note, this involved the most awkward event I've ever dealt with from a relationship standpoint. Remember Brian, the Air Force guy I used to call my Metaphysical-Boyfriend? He came to visit me WHILE Daniel was staying with me. I spent two days with my boyfriend and the ex that he's heard all about... Both of them handled it surprisingly well.)

But since Daniel is pretty much the only aspect of my life that has gotten any blog attention since, oh, I met him, I'll move on.

I love my school. And my school loves me. I don't mean that in a "my school cares about its students" kind of way, either. I mean, specifically, that my school loves ME. That is, of course, not to say that my program doesn't care about the others. Just that I don't think my school sees me as only a student; they see me as a resource.


EXHIBIT A: Assessments

Okay, so I won't annoyingly type out all of my assessments like I didlast semester (you're welcome). But I will say this: my assessments this semester were EVEN BETTER that the glowing ones from last semester. They think I'm intelligent, skilled, and fabulous (I'm paraphrasing to be brief, but I'm not exaggerating).

At the end of the assessment, they summarize the entire thing for you. There's a section on the official form for "areas in which you excelled", which was cluttered with notes, one of which was written at a funny angle to fit in properly. Then there's a section of "areas in which you can improve". The only thing written in that section was "Confidence". Analysis Professor said, "Angela, you're doing wonderfully with everything here. We just want you to believe in yourself."

So, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, if at times I seem a little full of myself on my blog, keep in mind that normally I'm far better at keeping it under wraps in my professional environment. In fact, I've been so careful to ride that line of Diva-dom that I think I've actually erred too far on the side of humility.



EXHIBIT B: The Workshop

Back in April, the head of my program (aka the man in charge of the next year of my life) said that the artistic director (aka the Grand Poo-Bah of the theatre who will determine my third-year casting and holds much of my creative destiny in his hands) had asked if I was available to do a new play reading at my theatre at the end of the month. I said yes (even though it meant I'd have to back out of the film that Daniel had wanted me to be in, causing the biggest conflict we've had in our relationship thus far -- I then said I'd be in the film instead of the reading, but him leaving film school made the decision for me).

D-Train and Newbie were asked to be in the reading as well, as were several Equity actors who were in the Rep theatre season. The published playwright was so lovely to work with, and she told us that we were the best cast that she'd had thus far for this piece. This play is the third play in a trilogy that she started writing in 1982, and the character I played was the main character in her first play. She told me that I exemplified the character she had in her head in a way that no one else had and thanked me. She said I can send her my headshot and résumé and she'll see if she can spread it around for me. (AWESOME!!!)


EXHIBIT C: The Caretaker

While I was at Disney World with Daniel (we went right before the workshop had started), I got a phone call from the theatre. I started hyperventilating right there on the Monorail. Had I forgotten a rehearsal? Was I supposed to be there? OH DEAR GOD HAD I DONE SOMETHING WRONG?

Daniel made me calm down before calling them back. It turned out that one of the high-up people in the theatre (the Vice Grand Pooh-Bah, if you will) had a family emergency and needed someone to stay with an elderly relative for a couple of days. The stage manager for the theatre called me first.


EXHIBIT D: The Assistant

As a 2nd-year student of the program, you are assigned to assist a professor or a department. This is their way of justifying paying us to be in school. There are 11 people in my class at present, so they came up with 11 stations that need assistants:
- Head of Program (the artist formerly known as "Analysis Professor")
- Head of Program's Assistant (aka the woman who makes the world go 'round)
- Movement Professor
- Voice Professor
- Acting I Professor
- Acting II Professor (who has been with this theatre for decades)
- Costumes (if anyone needs things for scenes, they go through the assistant)
- Props (ditto, but it requires driving across town. the most daunting of these tasks)
- Tech (manual labor)
- Crew (I think it's the same thing as Tech)
- Library (which is apparently a huge job involving keeping the program's library organized)

At the beginning of our first semester, my classmates were ALREADY discussing which positions they planned to request. The job post that looked like it was going to cause the most conflict was with our Acting I Professor, as so many of us idolize him. Several people told me they thought I should assist our Voice Professor, as I'm always doing extra homework in that class just for fun (yes, I'm one of those students). I had a suspicion that my Movement Professor might request me, as we get along incredibly well. But past 1st semester, I didn't really think about it.

I was having a conversation with Acting I Professor in April, when he suddenly picked up on the fact that I'm pretty on top of things (I'd go into specifics on this, but I don't want to brag or bore). So he asked me to be his assistant. I said sure.

I went to talk with his current assistant, and she said that both Acting I Professor and Movement Professor are up for promotion next year, which means that being assistant to either of them will be a far more complicated and work-intensive task than it might normally be. Instead of shying away from the additional workload as a more intelligent person in my position might have done, I decided that it was all the more reason to agree to that assignment. Clearly, Acting I Professor needed me. I WANT him to get a promotion, and I'm going to be of greater help to him than most of my compatriots. So Acting I Professor and I agreed: he'd request me, I'd request him, and everything should be golden.

On the last day of classes, Voice Professor pulled me into the hallway before class and asked if I would be her assistant. I said that I would've loved to, but I'd already agreed to assist Acting I Professor. She said that she yielded to him (knowing, no doubt, about his promotion -- she went through the same grueling process this year). I told her that I'd be happy to make up example sentences for vowels and consonants for her despite not being her assistant, just because I like doing that sort of thing.

When I filled out my request form, I ranked Acting I Professor 1st, Voice Professor 2nd, and Movement Professor 3rd. (I considered putting down "Library" because I really like sorting things -- everyone else will probably hate it -- but I thought my skills were better used assisting people). As I turned in my form to Head of Program's Assistant, she looked me straight in the eye and made a point of saying to me, "You know that just because you request something, doesn't mean you'll get it, right?" I coyly smiled and nodded. I knew she had probably already gotten a couple of request forms with Acting I Professor's name ranked 1st. But I knew something that she didn't: that he would be putting my name down as his first choice. I wasn't worried about what assignment I'd get.

The next week, a 2nd-year came up to me. "Angela, out of curiosity, what did you write on your Assistantship request form?"
"Oh, I'm going to be [Acting I Professor]'s assistant."
"No, what did you write on the form."
"I wrote [Acting I Professor], [Voice Professor], and then [Movement Professor]. But I already talked to [Acting I Professor] and I know he's requesting me."
"I thought I should warn you, you're not going to be his assistant."
"WHAT? WHY?"

This 2nd-year has had the job of assisting Head of Program's Assistant, who is, of course, the person creating the assignments. Head of Program's Assistant needs a really great, organized, friendly person as an assistant, so she wanted me. She had planned to steal me away from Acting I Professor. Clearly, this is why she had given me the "just because you request it" speech.

"So I'm going to be HER assistant," I reasoned.
"Nope," she answered.

Apparently, Head of Program's Assistant had been complaining to this 2nd-year that she COULDN'T have me, because Acting II Professor requested me, and she has the most seniority in the program.

That's right. Even though I have 10 other perfectly capable classmates, 4 of the 6 people who get assistants wanted me.

I felt like the prettiest girl at the dance.

That said, the whole thing felt unfair. I warned Acting I Professor that he probably won't have me as an assistant, despite our solid "request-each-other" plan. He seemed a little disappointed, but I assured him that my classmates are reliable and that I was sure his promotion materials would be assembled easily.

We don't officially get our assignments until we get back to school in the fall. But I'd say this story is a pretty good example of my school loving me.


EXHIBIT E: Facebook

Today (yes, TODAY... 5 weeks after classes have ended, and I'm not currently getting any sort of paycheck from this school), I got a facebook message from a woman who works for the program in some sort of marketing capacity:

Angela: I spoke with [Head of Program] yesterday about having a FB page for the Conservatory and he thinks you'd be the one to know how to set it up just right. What do you think?

Yes. Of course I'm the person they think of. I am, of course, the one with the blog. They associate me with the internet and with being a person who will help the program in any way they ask. And they're not wrong to make either assumption (just a few days ago I created Wikipedia pages for both my program and the Rep theatre because I realized they didn't exist yet... I did that for fun. On summer break. Because I'm a loser.)

So I did it. I created a fan page for the theatre today, complete with events for all the Conservatory's up-coming shows for next season.


VERDICT: They totally love me

Seriously, is it any wonder that they love me? I'm sharp, I'm trustworthy, I'm talented, I'm professional, and, most importantly, I'm the best free labor ever.




So now what...

I've been in Connecticut for a little over a week. I've already been the Stage Manager for two dance recitals at a local theatre. I may have just been offered a role in a play reading (that I didn't audition for). I've been offered a babysitting gig (that I had to turn down because of the Stage Manager gig). I applied for a job as a waitress at a yacht club.

Movement Professor says you she thinks actors should watch a movie every day. Analysis Professor says we should read 3-4 plays a week. Acting I Professor says you should always be reading a book.

I think those suggestions are all too difficult for me to keep up with, but I do see the value in them. So since school got out 5 weeks ago, I've watched 18 movies (most of them with Daniel), I've read 3 plays, and I've finished 2 books. Not bad, I think.

I don't know how things are going to go for me here. I feel out of place still, and I probably will until I get a steady job. But I'm hoping for the best.



May the evidence always show that you are appreciated, beyond any reasonable doubt.

~A~