Personal Narrative: My Pursuit Of Musical Theatre

Anyone who knows me knows that I cannot dance. In fact, I can barely touch my toes, let alone do a split. My lack of ability has often been a hindrance in my pursuit of musical theater. My freshman year of high school I decided to try out for the spring musical, the ever-popular production of Bye Bye Birdie. I would say that approximately 90 people auditioned that year, a majority of who were in my same grade. I had prepared for weeks, rehearsing the song “Put on a Happy Face” with my voice coach, practicing the confidence I would need to earn a role as coveted ‘chorus member’ (freshman are rarely awarded main roles). As I entered the black box, I learned, to my dismay, that we would be preforming a dance routine as part of the audition. I, of course, botched the dancing portion and when the cast list came out, my name was notably absent. At first, I was baffled. Then I was devastated. Musical theater was my ‘thing’ and I didn’t necessarily know where I belonged if I didn’t fit into it.
I told my dad that I hadn’t made the cut and he simply told me I probably hadn’t put enough effort into preparing.
I’ve grown up in a generation awarded for simply participating. We learned from a young age that effort is what counts and as long as you try hard enough, you will succeed. Before high school, this mantra rang true. I received roles in plays, got good grades, won awards; yet, as I grew older I began to understand that failure does not necessarily depend on effort; you can work incredibly hard and still fail. Despite putting in countless hours of preparation and having a relatively good voice, I had failed. I have been told all my life; don’t be afraid to fail because you will ultimately learn a great deal more from failure than success. I thought failure was supposed to teach you to try harder or to never give up; however, I learned something completely
different. As a society, we put a lot of stake in earning roles, or good grades, or spots on sports teams in order to fix our lives. As I went into audition for Bye Bye Birdie, I thought that receiving a role in the musical would suddenly give me all the happiness in the world. And the truth is, these types of ambitions do give us instantaneous happiness once we achieve them. However, whatever feeling of accomplishment fills us passes as the daily stress of life returns and we fall back into our normal routine. In all honesty, a single role in a musical would have had very little impact on my life and when I look back on my rejection from Bye Bye Birdie, I rarely feel like I missed out. That’s not to say that I don’t continue to strive for parts in musicals or leadership positions, I have just come to realize that they don’t provide any type of permanent solution.
I am aware that I will face rejection from similar roles in the future. Maybe I won’t get an internship or won’t be offered a spot in a club. Despite my newfound knowledge that something so limited has no ability to create real happiness in my life, I will inevitably continue to feel the sting of rejection. Nevertheless, it is a comfort to know that the devastation created by failure, similarly to the happiness sparked by success, is fleeting. I have learned to set standards for myself rather than relying on others to set them for me. I worked hard for that small role in Bye Bye Birdie and, looking back, that’s enough for me.