Typecast
I am a very bad actress; I constantly miss my cues and forget my lines.
I know them, I hear them in my head, some are funny, some are intelligent, and some are flat out awesome. Too bad that the plays I am in, no one gets to hear my internal monologue.
What people did hear coming from my mouth was a loud silence or fragments of the line that I managed to mumble out sounding like a cassette recording on fast forward. They were never awesome or intelligent. A few did cause people to laugh, but in an entirely different way than intended.
Soliloquies, being my forte, enabled me to belt out audible lines when there was no audience. In fact when there was no audience my voice would bellow.
I even managed to perform in front of small groups that were free of critics. My deliverance was timely, astonishing and something you would not want to miss. Trust me, it was a four star performance.
Then when it really counts, stage fright set in, my voice box would malfunction. The words I managed to choke out left that sour stinging feeling like I had heaved up something citrus or bile. The idea of breaking a leg caused them to stiffen as a precaution, and I became more like a prop minus the construction paper leaves and the itchy face paint that smelled like cool whip. When that happened, the critics were present and were they ever cruel. Apparently, classmates always are.
Soon people learned not to expect me to say anything. No one talked to me, so I never had to say anything.
Then one day I found out my family was moving to a different state, a different stage. I could have a different role in a different play.
I practiced hard just to nail the simplest of lines “My name is Victoria, I’m from Staten Island.”
For the audition I did a skit as the Yankee new kid, I did pretty good. I even got a few call backs and requests like “Veronica say something” - I thought Veronica was a much nicer stage name than the ones rhymed with Vikki.
If you’ve ever auditioned for anything, you would know the nervous anticipatory feeling you get in your stomach right before you find out if you made it. If you didn’t make it then you know the feeling of your stomach dropping. This is what I felt when I realized that my new classmates were just wowed by how I said things, not what I actually had to say, even though I said very little.
I was programmed to speak in a hushed babble and the lack of experience made interaction awkward as if I suffered from the lockjaw.
I was a typecast and it was my own fault.
Author's Notes
This was written for an English project in eleventh grade, the assignment was we had to write a poem or free prose about an epiphany we had, real or imaginary, and make use of tone and metaphor. Had a hard time with writing it, in the end it came out a lot more personal then I ever wanted something a teacher would have to read to be. But I was also really proud with it. I got a 100 and note saying he enjoyed it, so I guess that means it's good.
I kind of want to remove the line "I thought Veronica was a much nicer stage name than the ones rhymed with Vikki." I also kind of don't.
I know them, I hear them in my head, some are funny, some are intelligent, and some are flat out awesome. Too bad that the plays I am in, no one gets to hear my internal monologue.
What people did hear coming from my mouth was a loud silence or fragments of the line that I managed to mumble out sounding like a cassette recording on fast forward. They were never awesome or intelligent. A few did cause people to laugh, but in an entirely different way than intended.
Soliloquies, being my forte, enabled me to belt out audible lines when there was no audience. In fact when there was no audience my voice would bellow.
I even managed to perform in front of small groups that were free of critics. My deliverance was timely, astonishing and something you would not want to miss. Trust me, it was a four star performance.
Then when it really counts, stage fright set in, my voice box would malfunction. The words I managed to choke out left that sour stinging feeling like I had heaved up something citrus or bile. The idea of breaking a leg caused them to stiffen as a precaution, and I became more like a prop minus the construction paper leaves and the itchy face paint that smelled like cool whip. When that happened, the critics were present and were they ever cruel. Apparently, classmates always are.
Soon people learned not to expect me to say anything. No one talked to me, so I never had to say anything.
Then one day I found out my family was moving to a different state, a different stage. I could have a different role in a different play.
I practiced hard just to nail the simplest of lines “My name is Victoria, I’m from Staten Island.”
For the audition I did a skit as the Yankee new kid, I did pretty good. I even got a few call backs and requests like “Veronica say something” - I thought Veronica was a much nicer stage name than the ones rhymed with Vikki.
If you’ve ever auditioned for anything, you would know the nervous anticipatory feeling you get in your stomach right before you find out if you made it. If you didn’t make it then you know the feeling of your stomach dropping. This is what I felt when I realized that my new classmates were just wowed by how I said things, not what I actually had to say, even though I said very little.
I was programmed to speak in a hushed babble and the lack of experience made interaction awkward as if I suffered from the lockjaw.
I was a typecast and it was my own fault.
Author's Notes
This was written for an English project in eleventh grade, the assignment was we had to write a poem or free prose about an epiphany we had, real or imaginary, and make use of tone and metaphor. Had a hard time with writing it, in the end it came out a lot more personal then I ever wanted something a teacher would have to read to be. But I was also really proud with it. I got a 100 and note saying he enjoyed it, so I guess that means it's good.
I kind of want to remove the line "I thought Veronica was a much nicer stage name than the ones rhymed with Vikki." I also kind of don't.