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A Seasoned Traveler Afraid to Fly

I’ve made rounds to Central America and Europe before, but only for at most a few weeks at a time. Although saying yes to the wild and exhilarating ride of Jesus Christ Superstar, this summer also included two horrific events that I will choose not to speak about right now. Regardless if you are within my inner circle and are aware of what I faced this summer or not, know that I had something done to me that will change my life forever. With that said, departing from my support system at a time I needed it most felt terrifying and isolating. I extended my stay in Oregon by over two weeks and heavily debated at the last minute taking a quarter off and not studying abroad in London. All of which stemmed out of complete fear of experiencing and attempting to survive more vulnerability than I could handle. With my most humble thanks, this summer I was surrounded by more love and support than I ever imagined I could receive, and the seed was planted in me that London is going to serve me a season of healing. I charged my way to California and lugged all my things to the basement so it would stay safe, and had a 48 hour reunion with my two closest friends. The following morning I walked to City Lights Cafe to get my last London Fog, sat on my porch, and waited for my ride to the airport. Shaking in my boots, two suitcases in hand, and alone, I navigated the airport and boarded that plane. A window seat. A 13 hour flight. An 8 hour time change. Tears flooded my eyes, and I let them fall as I thought about how desperately I needed a hug. How desperately I needed someone to know that I wasn’t alright. My tears fell as I thought about how relieved I was to remove myself from the west coast, from the United States. Tears sat in my eyes not ready to slide down my cheeks as I thought about starting anew. “Baby girl, have hope,” a dear friend told me. “Praus,” a wise friend told me. “Heal,” a tender friend told me. I arrived in London. Exhausted, but full of hope, praus, and ready to heal.

Can I Unpack Yet?

Maybe I just didn’t read the itinerary, but when I arrived to London, I was pleasantly surprised to be told I wouldn’t start classes for two weeks. This first week I was in London was mostly run by Arcadia University, the abroad program I am with. We stayed in a hotel in the heart of Central London just around the corner from West End theaters and the Tottenham tube station. Arcadia University recommended we do everything we can to stay up instead of nap our first day in the UK to combat our jet lag. Taking their advice, a group of us walked around Soho and found a pub. Realizing we are all legal in the UK, we all got a drink and ate together. This week was also the week I discovered the magic that is Primark. For those that don’t know, Primark is a clothing and home goods store that is outrageously inexpensive. I suppose you could say it’s an off brand Forever21 with Walmart prices. I bought some awesome pink loafers with a beautiful design on them for only £9!

As a part of the Arcadia orientation, other than going to a few mandatory seminars on UK history, the UK education system, and London culture and society, they made sure we experienced what London is known for. Arcadia University bought us all tickets to the award winning West End show, Everybody’s Talking About Jamie. A new musical about a boy in school who embraces his queerness by becoming a drag Queen, Jamie is a musical that shows how eye opening, relevant, and honest theatre can be. Going to see Jamie was a unique, inspiring, and encouraging way to be introduced to my new home away from home. And as a side note, I accidentally ran into the actor who plays the title roll, Jamie, after the show! A quiet and sweet hipster, John McCrea was gracious enough to let me take a picture with him after I commended his raw and thrilling work on the stage that night.

Myself and John McCrea, Jamie in West End’s Everybody’s Talking About Jamie.

After a week of being in a hotel, we were exhausted of living out of a few bags that we were conflicted about completely unpacking. Luckily, Arcadia kept us entertained enough with a huge self guided tour around the city to get us acquainted with the sites of London, and the different types of public transportation. Me and a friend jumped on a bus as the guide said to do, missed our stop, and ended up at St. Paul’s Cathedral! A magnificent site with rich history, we were already off course and decided it was a good sign that we should continue on our own. We walked over a bridge and stopped in the center to take a picture when I suddenly squealed to high heavens, jumped straight up into the air, and hugged my new friend as if I’d just seen a ghost. I had spotted the Globe Theatre. I yelled, “Look! It’s the Globe!” I had no idea The Globe was so close to the City of London, and was under the impression it was out in the middle of nowhere. Naturally, I sprinted over to the Globe and walked in to hear that a tour was to start in 20 minutes. We jumped on the opportunity and were able to spend time in the Shakespeare Museum, take a tour of the Globe, sit in on an equity rehearsal in the Globe Theatre itself, and run through the gift shop in search for something to prove we were there. It was surprisingly, slightly anti climactic. But I appreciated that. The Globe even in Shakespeare’s time wasn’t an impressive theatre to attend, which grounded me in an odd way. It somehow humanized Shakespeare a bit and humbled him as well. In that way, suddenly Shakespeare became much more accessible. Funny how simply understanding the truth and the reality of a life makes the legend and their work more relatable and meaningful.

Lastly, the week and the self guided tour ended with an accidental trip to the Borough Market which was only a few blocks away from the Globe. The fish and chips here were to die for, immediately melting in your mouth. The Borough Market is a beautiful representation of how London has stayed true to their rich cultural roots despite modern overground train routes and highways beginning to take over. Finally, the week was tied up with an eye opening and critical tour of the British Museum.

Mile End

After my first week in London, those of us attending Queen Mary University of London loaded up on a bus and made the trek to what soon would become our local neighborhood. The main QMUL campus where I am living and attending modules at is in Mile End in the borough of Tower Hamlets. Across the street from the panhandle of Victoria park and just a 15 minute bike ride from the London Olympic Stadium, Mile End got its name because it is exactly one mile east of the original City of London. Mile End is know for its rich culture and is celebrated as being one of the most ethnically diverse boroughs in London, and in England. At QMUL, residence halls are all single rooms with a shared common area. I am on the second floor (floor one for Brits) of an apartment building right in the middle of campus. With a single room, I have my own bathroom and fridge, and share a huge kitchen with ten other flat mates. I have a wonderfully eclectic group of flat mates coming from all over the world including the United States, Denmark, Lithuania, Bristol, England, and more. Co-ed, we have become quite a tight nit group that I am so lucky to be a part of. The QMUL campus is exceptionally safe and vibrant, full of creative little nooks and crannies creating a funky study atmosphere that is wonderfully encouraging.

My first week in my new home was spent attending exceptionally repetitive and strenuously long mandatory “orientation” meetings. Not learning much from them, most of the information went through one ear and out the other as we all sat slightly confused about their use of our time. Despite slightly being left to our own devices, I managed everything really well and was proactive about my disability which impressed Queen Mary and the QMUL School of Drama.

Campus culture was fairly similar to Santa Clara University the first week or so of the semester. The pub life thrives, and I was surprised to see that QMUL has its own bar on campus, Drapers, on the other side of campus. This week was when I discovered the pub chain Wetherspoons in the UK. There are dozens of different types of Wetherspoons all around London and the greater UK, and it’s a cheap place to hang out and socialize with friends.

My first week at QMUL I used as an opportunity to fit in some sight seeing before classes started up. On Tuesday I actually met up with a dear friend of mine from Oregon who just happens to be studying in London at the same time I am! She lives just northeast of me in Hackney which is a really funky and up and coming neighborhood on the river Thames that reminds me a lot of Oakland, CA. We went out to dinner before I went off to Central London to see Lion King! A show I’ve always wanted to see, it’s exactly as I expected it to be. A spectacle of theatrical technology and design, it truly showcased the limitless nature and magic of theatre. On the ground floor in the orchestra seats that night was a royal family from an African country I wish I knew the name of. In a way, they were a spectacle themselves, especially during intermission as random tourists and theatre patrons attempted to take discrete pictures of the family. Respectfully, I didn’t take my phone out to take a pic, but I will say it was highly entertaining to watch others trying to be sly with their photos.

That Friday I went with the Arcadia group to the Tower of London and the Tower Bridge. I had no idea how magical this would be. I know this is a tourist trap, and it’s one of those “everyone has to do it” things when they come to London, but when you know that the site was the home of your ancestors, things change. My family tree starts with the Plantagenets, one of the first royal families to rule Britain. Holding on to that part of my family, it was stunning to walk through the Tower of London, the building that the Plantagenets called home. I walked through their bedrooms, their bathrooms, their common areas, realizing that I’m experiencing the foundation of my family, living and breathing the home that I come from. I was stunned and overwhelmed to see real Lion Heart shields everywhere. Previously, I had only seen the Lion Heart shield in history books and officially stamped and sealed on our official family tree that’s proudly hung up in my mom’s house. For the first time, I realized I was an immigrant. An immigrant to the United States. Where did I come from? For the first time, I realized I was home. Home in England. Home in London. Home at the tower. Home with my family I’ve never met but feel so intensely. Home where the first fathers and mothers of my family tree were killed in the field I could see out the window from the top floor of the tower. Home where members of my family were murdered. Home where my family’s blood was shed. Home where my family was born. Home where my family was celebrated. There were photos of the kings and queens that spent time in the Tower, generation after generation. Looking up at them, I saw the luscious locks of red curly hair that is now my wavy auburn. Looking up at them, I saw the ruthless warriors within themselves that my family still identifies with hundreds of years later. Looking up at them, I saw my mom. I saw my grandma. I saw me. I found my way home, and my home is still here. And it’s still alive.

Myself at the Tower of London, home of the Plantagenets.

A Better Kind of English

My first week of Junior year in London is in the books! So let’s get down to business, and get familiar with some British lingo.

US Classes = UK Modules and US Majors = UK Courses

The modules I am taking this semester are Making Contemporary Theatre, Contemporary World Cinemas, and London Performance Now. Making Contemporary Theatre is a module that is eight hours long! The first five hours is workshop based where we learn new ways to create contemporary theatre, and the last three hours is called Student Lead Practice (SLP) where it’s just us students leading our class through exercises and tasks we are asked to do on our own. Contemporary World Cinemas is a study of … Contemporary World Cinemas. I have a one hour lecture followed by watching a movie in class. Later in the week, I go to an hour long seminar with only a few other students, where we discuss the movie we watched and how it coincides with the lecture. London Performance Now is a module where we go out and see a different show each week, are asked to write about, and then come to a two hour seminar to discuss the show and the writing task. Overall, these modules are exceptionally immersive and stimulating, and I am beyond excited to see where they take me.

US Planner = UK Diary and US Cash Register = UK Till

I went shopping for a planner and spent way too long trying to figure out where the planners were. I eventually found my things, and walked to the till where the girl was surprised to hear my States accent. According to her, I look like I’m from Spain. I’ll take it.

US Fries and Chips = UK Chips and Crisps and US Grilled Cheese = UK Toastie

It was really late at night when a group of friends and I went walking around downtown for food and stumbled upon a “Toastie” shop. Not know what that was, we quickly realized from the menu that a toastie is a grilled cheese. I will say, something about the UK that I greatly appreciate is their wide range of sandwiches and toasties. There is so much to choose from, and they’re all delicious!

US Professors = UK Tutors, Lecturers, Seminar Leaders, Professors, and/or Convenors

I’m still confused on what to call my “professors” for lack of a better term. For Contemporary World Cinemas, I am taught by Ash, a passionate lecturer and seminar leader who is enthusiastic and excited about what he teaches. I can tell how much he enjoys what he does, and it makes me enjoy what I’m learning as well.

London Performance Now is a bit different. There are two Seminar Leaders for this module, Aoife (like sea-fuh without the “s”) and Martin, where I am taught by Martin. Martin, similarly to Ash, loves theatre and is currently working on his Masters while working as a professional sound designer in the West End. I’ve never had a dull moment in class with Martin. Both Aoife and Martin’s dedication to us as students is remarkable, as they’ve willingly met with me over coffee to work on my writing more than once! Making Contemporary Theatre is also taught by two Convenors, Martin (a different Martin) and Mojisola Adebayo. My group in class mostly spends time with Mojisola (we call her Moj), but we work with Martin a lot as well. Moj and Martin are very different and come from vastly different backgrounds as trained artists and performers. Because of Martin and Moj, Making Contemporary Theatre has been one of, if not, the most enriching, playful, and inventive class I have ever taken. And I humbly thank them for who they are, what they bring to the table, and the atmosphere they create for us.

As a part of London Performance Now, this week I saw Sketching at Wilton’s Music Hall, and as a part of Arcadia, I ventured over to tour Buckingham Palace. Buckingham Palace was a picture perfect representation of what you would imagine a palace to be, adorned with gold leaf paint, royal red carpets, marble pillars, crown molding and all. This week I also went walking through the massive Club Festival that the QMUL Student Union put on to get students involved on campus. From that, I ended up finding Queen Mary Dance Team, QM Shakespeare Society, QM Musical Theatre, QM Theatre Company, and Unite, a Christian bible study that also focuses in Gospel choir, theatre, and creative writing.

Fun Facts of Week 1

My bathroom will never be dry. My bed is hard and I desperately want to stretch out on my foam roller that is currently in the States. UK light switches are upside down. Each light switch has its own circuit breaker next to it. The States does a lot better at constructing binders, but UK folders are far superior. Driving on the left side of the road makes a lot of sense. British coffee is better. The drink “London Fog” ironically doesn’t exist in London. British tea is heavenly. The Brits know how to make a mean fish and chips. London public transportation is brilliant. Londoners’ favorite adjective is “loads” as in “there are loads of them out there.” “Sorry” and “cheers” have way more than one definition. Stand on the right side of the escalator. An elevator is a lift. The first floor is actually the second floor. Celsius makes a lot more sense than Fahrenheit. Pasties are delicious. So are ciders. Drug dealers have business cards and delivery services via mopeds. London has dumpster diving city foxes. J-walking is the only way Londoners cross the streets. It rains a lot less than people says it does, and umbrellas are stupid. Autumn is beautiful.

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Take it Back Now, Y’all

The spring quarter of my sophomore year was just as much of a recovery from winter quarter as it was a monster of challenges all on its own. Spring time was filled with wrapping up the mess from winter, having a surprise of my lifetime, a load of rich and demanding class work, and thriving in what Santa Clara University may claim to be the largest scaled production ever attempted. For now, lets get academic.

A Heavy Plate. Or Two.

This quarter was comprised of an epically overloaded schedule for no good reason. I recently officially declared a minor in Urban Education, so one of the classes I took was Adolescent Psychology. Adolescent Psychology is pretty self explanatory and focused most on adolescent physical and cognitive development, education, substances, and parenting. My professor was the most entertaining scholar I have met and this was my first course that introduced me to collaborative academic writing which was actually quite challenging. What I enjoyed most was the “textbooks” interestingly enough, as well as gaining insight on the adolescent journey I have just taken through middle and high school. It was pretty fascinating and affirming to understand what happens within the families with adolescents and recognize for the first time a concrete cause for various things that happened to me in my middle and high school years.

My second class was the one and only … Spanish III. Surprisingly, Spanish III was much easier than Spanish I and II. The class was focused on learning the cultures of various Central and South American countries and putting together all the grammar learned in past courses. I had my same professor who had a baby in the middle of the quarter so the class was pretty relaxed and laid back. I have a lot of respect for my Spanish Professor. I would have never thrived or let alone survived this three part course without him. You may be moving on to a new job, but all of at Santa Clara University who were lucky enough to have you are exceptionally thankful for learning from you. I consider this a close to my foreign language chapter, at least for now.

Modern III was my third class, and I think it was one of the most affirming and rewarding dance class I have ever taken. Learning The Wave and gaining an eclectic and strong training in modern and contemporary dance was a journey of doubt and empowerment. I was challenged every single day, my strength and balance vastly improved, and my capacity and self assurance in mastering choreography grew. I have fallen in love with contemporary and modern dance as a language and its ability to transcend the mind and body. Despite it being an 8am class, I don’t ever regret going. Every time I walked out of the studio, I did so taller, lighter, and stronger. I dance for me. And it feels amazing.

My fourth course I took was a course I have been waiting to take since my first day at SCU; Dialects. It was a workshopping course full of play and discovery. Every moment of the class was packed with curiosity and humility, yet blanketed with grace and permission to fail. We cycled through studying Brooklyn, British, Irish, and a few other dialects and focused on their cultural and environmental history and placement in the mouth. This class reminded me the importance of consistent vocal training and floor work. I highly value everything I have learned and taken with me from this course, and the skills I have gained I will never forget or let go of.

Lastly, I had another round of Critical Perspectives which got a bit old quite quickly. It was nice to already know the ropes of the class, and part B went much smoother than part A. The topics were a bit more muddled and interwoven with one another, but were what I though to be much more relevant and accessible to theatrical discourse we are seeing today. We pulled through in this class, and out professor did not make it easy, but the improvement in my academic writing this year is due to this class, and I am thankful!

May I add, that as well as having private vocal lessons as always, I also continued to teach at Light It Up School of Ministry Infused Arts. I was ultimately blessed to watch the students grow, and truly understand how much of an influence I have on my students and their families. I was taken out to share meals more than once with my students’ families simply because of how much I have impacted their lives. All of this, completely stemming from giving back and teaching my passion. It would be an understatement to

This quarter was focused on not letting myself lose my my love for musical theatre because of what happened in the winter. I gained a stronger sense of self as an artist and hit a hard lesson from a professor that told me it’s okay to not get everything done. I remember the conversation we had as we ran into each other walking through the SCU rose gardens when she said, “I think you’re a finisher. You feel satisfied when you finished something, when you have a finished product.” And I thought, “Wow, you’re right. I’ve never thought about looking at my work ethic and creative process in that lens before.” Before we parted to our separate ways, she left me with, “Think about how you would feel about simply not finishing something. Letting it go. How would you feel? It’s okay sometimes to leave your ends untied.” This quick and spontaneous exchange refocused me as I gave myself permission to reprioritize. It felt good. It kept me from going insane. It reminded me of my strength. It put my life back on the track I thought I lost. Thank you.

Never Goodbye, Only See You Later

The creative and performance team of This Property is Condemned came together for one final gathering to commence our special and unique time of collaboration. From the simple things of the last car rides full of spontaneous laughter as if we’ve experienced life together for decades, to reminiscing by ritualistically moving the living room coffee table aside to set the stage, we began to say our goodbyes. Conversing over an array of food and drinks on a simply tray surrounded by plain but loved folding chairs, we chatted into the wee hours of the night about mindless audience members, our most favorite moments of theatre we created together, and future endeavors we were to all take part of soon. Although we are parting ways for the summer and fall, it won’t be long until we come together again. Hoping at least, for a collaboration producing Song of Solomon in as many venues as we can think of. Until next time friends, until next time.

Happy Birthday

As the quarter began, my birthday was fast approaching. A while back my grandma surprised me by getting me tickets to see my all time favorite vocalist, Mark Masri live in Central Oregon for my birthday. A few weeks before I turned the big 20, I was flown back to Oregon to see what I knew was going to be my most favorite event of the year. Oh, little did I know what was to come.

I am welcomed home and am told by my grandma and I’s dear friend Jackie that there were a few extra surprises waiting for me this weekend. Jackie told me when I arrived that my first of many surprises was that I wasn’t only seeing Mark Masri, I was going to be able to meet him. So, Saturday evening I went to the theatre and found Jackie who led me backstage. I walk into the wings and see Mark Masri standing at the grande piano looking at his laptop. Jackie leads me towards him, and to my surprise without a prompt he says, “Happy birthday, Skylar! How are you?” Well, my friends, I just about lost it right then and there. He already knew it was my birthday. He already knew I was coming. How? Who told him? I responded with an awe struck smile and said, “I’m doing GREAT.” Jackie asked me if I wanted to stay and watch Mark’s tech run through, and I quite obviously took the opportunity. Jackie took me into the audience and as we sat down, she smiled with a little smirk and said, “You have one more surprise. And you must say yes to it.” I remembering not having any idea what that meant, but the biggest surprise I could think of was Mark Masri singing happy birthday to me in front of the live audience at the concert. Oh boy did I underestimate the possibilities.

I am beyond thankful Jackie prepared me for what was to come next, because what came next changed my life. Beginning to run through Gift of a Mother’s Love, Mark Masri stopped himself and said, “Skylar, I remember you saying at the time that you did a dance to my song. Would you do it for my show? Tomorrow?” Shocked, I said, “Really?” Reassuring me that this was in fact reality, Mark said, “Yes, really. Why don’t we practice right now?’ Seconds later I found myself taking off my boots, pulling my hair up, rolling up my sleeves getting ready to improvise a 3+ minute long dance in front of the artist I look up to most. Tears falling down my eyes, sweat forming on my brow, I danced. “See you at 10:00am tomorrow? That’s when the band loads in.” And that was it. I was in the show.

I came home that night to my grandpa in the living room as always. I walk in dumbfounded and numb and say, “I can’t go to the show tomorrow. You have to give my ticket to someone else.” To my grandpa’s surprise he questions me with concern as my grandma walks in to overhear, to which I say, “Mark Masri put me in his show. I’m dancing for him.” Both of their jaws dropped. It was as if we won the lottery. It was a moment of pure joy none of us will ever forget. I went digging through my closet and managed to find the dress I used in high school to perform this dance, tried it on, and it fit perfectly. With costumes taken care of, I went on the search again for a very specific notebook I knew I wrote my choreography in when I originally did the piece three years ago. I found it. The choreography was awful. I suppose that shows I’ve grown as an artist, thank you university. Using the original as inspiration, I took to my grandma’s garage and re-choreographed the entire thing. And then I committed it to memory. 3am peaked its head and I was finally able to hit the bed.

The day of both shows roll around. I’m nervous guys. I get up early, eat as many eggs as I could handle, and drive over to the grocery store for makeup and athletic tape. I gather my things, get my Dutch Bros. Coffee (a requirement) and head to the theatre. It’s 9:50am. Always arrive early. I wander around the backstage halls searching for familiar faces. “Good morning, Skylar, how are you?” Asks Mark. “I’m … amazing. Thank you.” I’m lead to my dressing room. My own dressing room. My own floor to ceiling mirror, private bathroom, walk in closet, the works. My own seat in the makeup hall, my own water, my own program, my own towel. I was suddenly treated as an equal. I was an artists. And I was doing my thing. And I was respected. The black box was filled to the brim with fruit, veggie, and meat platters, and all the coffee, tea, and sweets you could imagine. As I was trained to do, I warmed up and stayed limber. I did my hair and makeup in my own space. I taped my feet. I caked the tape in foundation so it appeared as if I was barefoot. I sprayed my hair one more time for good measure. Then, I did a show. With Mark Masri. For an overflowing house. A dream I didn’t know I had, had come true.

And then we had dinner together. All of us together, sitting at the same table, eating the same food, charming stories. This is when I found out that Mark had wanted this to happen weeks before he even arrived to Oregon. The fact that someone like Mark would think of me, on his own, in the hopes I would share the stage with him? I still can’t comprehend it. Perhaps I underestimate myself. Regardless, show two was rolling around. I still couldn’t fathom what I was doing until I saw Mark leave for the stage, when I said, “Mark? Thank you. You have truly no idea how much this means to me.” With a water bottle in hand, on his way to the wings, he said, “No, thank you, Skylar. It is an honor to work with you.” He swept off. Yet right when I thought I was alone, he popped back around the corner to say, “Let’s do this again.” To my shock and amazement, I proudly said, “Well, you know where to find me.” And the show began.

This weekend changed my life. I still don’t have any words I can put together to give this story justice. But if anything, I learned what happens when you say yes. You discover how much faith you have. You are reminded how much you are loved. And you remember why you do what you do. To Mark Masri, thank you. You know where to find me.

The Pink Tsunami

I suppose you could call Santa Clara University’s production of the musical Legally Blonde just as overwhelming, but in such a different way. I auditioned for this show for two reasons. One: I heard the musical director for this show was from Hamilton. Two: I wanted to rekindle my love for musical theatre instead of defining it by my hell of a class from winter quarter. I don’t particularly like Legally Blonde as a musical or as a story, but regarding the reasons I was auditioning it didn’t matter what the show was, I was auditioning for it nonetheless. I knew I was never right for the show. I know this isn’t my type of musical. I felt awful at auditions and I felt humiliated at callbacks. I truly didn’t think I was going to get cast. Lo and behold, the list comes out and I get cast as Whitney, Courtney, and Chutney. Three characters I know nothing about. Granted, I know nothing about most of these characters. All I know is that I am the only ensemble member with an understudy, so I suppose I must have something substantial. I accept my roles gratefully as I’m humble to even be a part of the team. I try to ignore the comments from others which was on overwhelming amount of, “why weren’t you cast as a Delta Nu?” Beats me, I don’t know, ask the director. All I was happy about was that I made it into the number Whipped into Shape. Until I wasn’t.

There is one thing and one thing only that I hate about ensemble work. The entire rehearsal process feels like a six to eight week ruthless final callback. You’re constantly competing to be the best at a dance number in the hopes that you don’t get cut when tech week comes around. You never get to breathe. I don’t like it. I don’t think people thrive in that setting. Despite dreading going to every single dance rehearsal, I went. Despite holding in my anger over people who can’t read sheet music, I held my part. And despite not being a Delta Nu, I used what I was given and became much more.

I got stronger. I get more flexible. I gained exceptional control. I became a master at mapping and scoring scripts. I sharpened my sight reading. I discovered a new quality and power to my voice. I felt like a creator for the first time. I felt confident in my process for the first time. Legally Blonde requires confidence, and that’s what it gave me. Also, I finally understood why. I was cast in the track I was in. There was not a single moment I was not moving on or off stage. The only reasons I was not in a scene, not in a musical number, not in a dance, was because I was quick changing or dragging my set piece off stage. Partway through this show I thought I was being cut from everything. I was confused, upset, and didn’t understand why things were happening the way they were and I truly wanted to quit. The saving grace was music rehearsals that put me in my element and comfort zone as if I were back in choir. 2/3rds of the way through the rehearsal process, something interesting happened. I started to see how everything was falling into place, and I began to realize the worth there was to my track. The choreographer of the show came up to me as I was warming up one night and asked out of the blue, “Was dance your first love?” And although I hesitated, I said, “Yes, actually. I started with hula.” But what was amazing to me was her response when she said, “I can tell.” From that moment, I knew that I could trust and believe the push and pull I was feeling inside. From that moment forward, I knew I was capable, and that capability came from within. From that moment forward, I knew my worth, I knew what it required of me, and in an eye opening way, I finally realized I was qualified for the job.

Soon enough it’s tech week. Choreography is changing due to the reality of the set, harmonies are shifting due to imbalances, and blocking is being reworked because of the new elements of costumes, hair, and two dogs. At this point, I was loving every second of my time. Because I chose to actively work on myself, I rekindled my love of musical theatre. No one did it for me. No one inspired me. I did it by myself, for myself, and I gave myself permission to embrace it and be proud. The icing on the cake was seeing the production photos for the first time. My kicks were just as high as the others. My splits had one of the strongest extensions. I looked at these photos and thought, wow. I’m a dancer. I’m a singer. And I’m an actor. And it was this show that I truly believed it for the first time. Legally Blonde was the biggest storm that hit SCU theatre. But man did I thrive as a storm chaser.

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Spring Break

Spring break, although only a week long, was absolutely life changing. A team from Santa Clara University went south for the break to immerse ourself in the familial and artistic culture of Nicaragua while introducing devised theatre to Nicaraguan artists for the very first time. I had the honor and privilege to go to Nicaragua and spend a week staying with Amigos for Christ and working with Teatro Catalina in Chinandega. My best way of explaining this is breaking it up day by day. The order of the middle of the week may be a bit blurry, but the account is true and from the heart. Get ready for a sliver of a slice of my adventure. Vamanos.

The Weekend: Cerro Negro

This weekend I did the most wild and thrilling thing I’ve ever dared of doing. I hiked and then sprinted straight down the face of the largest active volcano in Nicaragua, Cerro Negro. To get an idea, it took over an hour and a half for the group to get to the top and it took me two and a half minutes to get down. With Gatorade, salt, and two pb&j’s in my backpack, I hiked up the volcano thinking to myself “why am I doing this? I’m going to sprint down the cliff side of a massive volcano, am I crazy?!” As a matter of fact, we’re all a little bit crazy as it’s a sort of right of passage as a Nicaraguan to either slide or sprint down Cerro Negro. So out of fun spirt and respect, that’s what we did. Once at the top, we struggled to stand against over 30mph winds pushing us into the center of the volcano (luckily the volcano only ate a few of our hats and none of our people), and we ate what might be the most deliciously satisfying peanut butter and jelly sandwiches I will ever have in my lifetime. We danced together, sang together, ate, and conversed as we admired the stunning view and contemplated how in the world we were going to muster up the confidence to run down the volcano. Let me tell you, it was one of the best experiences of my life. Me and a group of girls, some of who had done this before, grabbed hands and slowly started sliding/walk-jogging down with terror and thrill pumping through our blood as we look down to what I thought was going to be my inevitable death. As the powdered ash surrounded and engulfed each step I took, I quickly realized how secure and safe it was to start a jog. Letting go of the group, I started a jog, a run, a sprint, and suddenly found myself quite literally leaping in 10-15 foot strides down this volcano. It felt like anti-gravity. If there is anything in this world that can imitate moon walking, it would be this. With absolutely no one around me, I was leaping down one of the tallest volcanoes in Nicaragua in complete control. With the wind breezing past my ears, I felt the melody of the air sing to me as I gazed at the exceptionally beautiful world around me. It was as if I was flying. I sincerely felt as if I was something else a little bigger than humankind. Coming down, I was welcomed with huge cheers, smiles plastered on every face, and shoes drowning in volcanic ash. Leaving with no Gatorade, salt, or food left in my bag, I also finished with a full heart. Welcome to Nicaragua.

Monday: Story Time

Monday we introduced everyone to playwriting and exercises to generate stories. A common theme among everyone we found was the perception of home, and with that we ran. A full day of poetic writing workshops, deep conversations, tears, and celebrations, every age and generation fully participated and absorbed everything we did with them. This is when the real work started. The Nicaraguans were teaching us and giving us more than we had to offer them. And they had no idea.

Tuesday: Scaffolding

Tuesday, I believe, was geared towards acting and the idea of telling stories with the voice and body. This was when I finally understood the concept of scaffolding within a curriculum and how necessary it is to successful education. The games we played had intention in them and each one built on top of the other, working to some find some heart wrenching and inspiring performances by the end of the day. The people we worked with began to show me their love and I was shell shocked to the point where I completely broke down at lunch realizing how deprived I was of genuine love and affection in the States. I’ll say it again, if there’s anything that Nicaraguans have over Americans from the States, they know how to love.

Wednesday: Shall We Dance?

On Wednesday we dance, and man was it taxing. It was hot. It was sticky. It was long. And I was tired. But oh did I learn a lot about myself. Taking a backseat and letting others lead, it was amazing to watch and work with the Nicaraguans closely this day. With very little communication through speech, we were able to form close bonds exceptionally quickly through movement. Physicalizing our names, others names, their meanings, every little thing we did created stunning pieces of art. I was completely blown away by their innovation and inclusive nature. At the end of the day, they asked if they could share with us their dances they have in their culture. We of course said yes, and I became fully entranced in experiencing first hand a living history of Central America. Though dance, they showed me that they lead from their heart. They reminded me what that looked like this day.

Thursday: Doubt

This was the most stressful day I’ve had in a long time. It was music day and the majority of it was led by me. We worked through rhythm games, process exercises, and basic music theory. We ended the day with songs that we learned together and songs that they had completely crafted on their own. They completely blew me away but my fear was still there – did they get it? Did they enjoy it? Did I do okay? I asked my team, and the reassuring support I received was a huge sigh of relief, but I didn’t quite understand my effect on the Nicaraguans until the weekend.

Friday: Los Judios

Now Friday was something. We were putting everything together in a cohesive piece to show, until suddenly our space was disrupted. We were all warned a week or so before about a day called Los Judios (The Jews) but we weren’t sure to what extent we should have prepared ourselves. Well, there was no way we could have prepared what we all witnessed. Apparently, there’s this tradition. A tradition at the end of Holy Week where men pretend to be the Jewish people parading to Jesus’ crucifixion by jump on horseback with weapons in awfully scary costumes and masks and ride around town looking to scare children. But the way they scare the children is by chasing them, and sometimes even .. pretending to take them. And that is exactly what happened to us. We managed to only have one little boy taken for a quick second; but it was terrifying, people! I was holding a little girl screaming and crying, and there were children sobbing and running for their lives straight to us seeking saftey. I was certainly scared and had no idea what to do, none of us did! Thankfully it passed and we could continue on with the day as if nothing had happened. But wow, talk about culture shock.

Saturday: Welcome Home

This is the day we had our show! The school venue was filled to the brim with community members and friends ready to watch this performance of ours. The show went up and I sat back reveling in what the Nicaraguans created for themselves. After the show there was a celebration amongst us all to soak in all that we did this week. All of us together ended up in a loving circle after everything had died down and we organically went around giving our appreciation and thanks to each other. I will say, I have never been given so much unexpected love. There were men and women alike, all ages, coming to me with tears in their eyes because the games and smiles and simple music I taught them gave them so much to work off of, that they felt unstoppable. I was stunned, and too was brought to tears. I didn’t know I could make someone feel unstoppable. I didn’t know I could change someone’s life. I didn’t know I was a part of the reason they got out of bed that morning. I don’t have much to say simply because it cannot be put into words. But I will say, I learned my value in this place. And feeling what it’s like to be valued and loved, truly for the first time, was life changing. But for the Nicaraguans, that feeling is everyday life. Nicaraguans, although most have no running water or electricity, they know how to make someone feel honored and loved. They know what home is, and they know how to invite someone in.

And Then Some

Katie’s birthday was this week! Katie is the founder of Teatro Catalina in Nicaragua, and we were so lucky to celebrate her the week we were there. With a BIG party at her home, a long night of karaoke and games, and a stop downtown for ice cream, we celebrated throughout the week, as one should! From the little things like mouthwatering cheese bread and the humble inability to flush toilet paper, to the fact that we were one of the first groups to expose those in Chinandega to devised theatre, I cherished every single memory. I’ve held onto the heated Avalon debates, the communication and curriculum building skills I fostered within myself during our grueling nightly meetings, and the simple twinkle in everyone’s eyes when we were creating together. As a practicing Christian myself, I thought I knew what it meant to give, and I thought I knew what it meant to give love. But this spring break, I was deeply humbled and overflowed with honest giving. I left for the airport in Managua (as we were playing Avalon) and I panicked as I was watching my time in Nicaragua turn into a memory. It was a feeling of raw ache and sadness knowing I may never see some of those Nicaraguans again. But I also left Nica filled to the brim with passion for people and passion for asking them how I can help. One Nicaraguan told me, “Don’t let the United States forget about us. We have dreams and you have the opportunities.” Well, my dear friends, anyone who has crossed my path since has been reminded of Nicaragua. Through me, you are seen. You are heard. You are loved. And you are so unbelievably honored. Thank you, Nicaragua, Teatro Catalina, Katie, all of you, for teaching me more than I ever could have offered you. If I ever am given the chance again, know that I am coming your way, Nicaragua. And know that a piece of my heart is always with you.

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Week 1 Was Actually Quite Overwhelming

But by the looks of my handy dandy bullet journal (that was a Blues Clues reference for all you who aren’t millennials) tells me otherwise. It is a bit of a barren week. I will say I had a surprisingly heavy load of homework for week one, but I managed! Actually, it seems to me as if I just procrastinated like a classic college student does. I was doing something late at night on Thursday because it says here that I was moving through Friday with 5 ½ hours of sleep under my belt. What fun. Sunday, I went to church in heels forgetting it was a 2-mile walk from the train station. Not one of my finest moments. But what was funny about that, was that after service I was on my way walking to Kepler’s Books (a bookstore) and I hear my name yelled from afar. Aunt Lindsey, her husband, her baby, and her little on Gracelynn were all packed in the car at a red light! You know you’ve become a local when you know people on the street.

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Let Me Just Tell You How Rad My Classes Are

Because they’re all FANTASTIC. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays I am taking “American Theatre from the Black Perspective,” “Defining the Performing Artist,” and “American Musical Theatre History.” On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I am taking “Theatre To Go” and “Critical Perspectives in Performance A.” Tuesdays I also have vocal lessons, and Thursdays I also Peer Educate LEAD Seminar. I’m also technically taking “Production Workshop” on Wednesdays but it’s in order to get credit for being the Assistant Stage Manager for Welcome to Claradise a year ago, so I don’t actually have to show up to that class. Like ever. Shall I explain all these awesome classes? I think I shall.

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The Perfect Getaway:

It’s three weeks before finals week, and this is when the stress of final projects and tests begin to pick up. Saturday and Sunday I was truly at home with my mom, grandma, Uncle Andy, Aunt Bridget, and my cousins Connor and Dylan. I didn’t realize how much my little self-needed to go home to Fremont. The pace was slow, the question as to whether someone was going to come into the room at any minute was thrown out the window, and family love, support, and care was filling the space. I’m so glad I got quality time with my family and a deep breath before my home stretch to finals!

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I’ve Been Shipped!

No, I did not buy a boat, no I did not get sent overseas, and no I’m not going on a crazy study abroad adventure (yet). But, our friend Squafam has officially made his return to the newsletters, and I believe he will continue to do so! As of February 13th, Christian and I are official! We may have been flirting and doing “couple-ish” things for a little while, but until 3am on February 10th, neither of us knew if the other one wanted to be more than friends, but we’re glad we both had the same answer. It’s a funny and cute story for sure! And yes, we are facebook official!

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Don’t Leave Milk Out,

and other adult things I learned. After 45 minutes of cleaning old milk out of my hydro flask, I pondered all the other adulty things I’ve learned this week. Like the fact that I can’t eat fried chicken every day and it isn’t a very good idea to make a quesadilla in the microwave without a plate or napkin underneath it. Note: It still tasted delicious. Another thing I learned is that asking for help is one of the best tools I have in my toolbox because this week wouldn’t have happened without the help of my friends, family, and professors. I got an A on my first college essay!

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