A Meaning You Wont Find in The Dictionary

“Empty pockets.” Who knew that these two words would change my life forever? I was only eight years old and I had been going to GA’s Theater Camp for only one summer. The play was Annie and I wanted a part very badly. All the girls my age were trying out for the star Annie Warbucks or the cutest orphan Molly, but me, I wanted the part with the most laughs and the best songs. I wanted the role of cranky, drunk Mrs. Hanigan who really got the laughs in the show. Every night, I practiced what her voice and character would be like, going as far as wearing a white wig and strutting around the house in my ruby red slippers (courtesy of my previous Halloween costume) to get in character.
When it came my time to audition, I quickly stepped up onto the stage and shouted (no, I am not understating, I literally shouted) “Hi! My name is Carolina Millard and I will be trying out for Mrs. Hanigan.” Sadly enough, my seven-year-old self did not get the part; I was cast as a “Hooverville-ite.”
But this, what some might call a disappointment, did not deter me because the rest of the camp’s four weeks was a blur of laughing, singing, and acting from scripts. Yes, scripts. I had gotten a line, two words: “Empty pockets.” But to me, these were not just two words, but a monologue of conflict and character. I distinctly remember sitting outside of the theater with the counselor. The counselor would say the cue line, and each time I would attempt to say “Empty pockets” as well as I could. To me the whole show depended on this one line, and if I were to mess it up it would ruin the whole show. But don’t think that everything I did within this camp was done in complete intensity. I had more fun than ever singing, dancing, and learning how to put on a production.
After that brilliant summer of theater, I decided to pursue the performing arts as a career. Yes, this seven year old, raggedy T-shirted, and sloppy-haired tom boy of a girl had decided what she was going to pursue the arts. Hey, if you know what you love, stick with it. I then persisted to nag my mom, asking her to enroll me in dance classes, theater workshops and anything musical we could find. Little did I know that the acting world would help out even more than I thought.
When I was in the seventh grade my dad got cancer. Now I know what you’re thinking. “Oh no, not another sob story.” But I’m not here to make you cry, I’m here to tell you about acting and what it means to me. It was around my dad’s sickness that I got more intense with my art only for one fact: I needed to escape. I needed to escape the pressures of the family, the stress, and the tears of every week. I would go to the middle school drama program and be able to forget all the things that were going on at home. I was able to step into someone else and live their life for awhile, forget mine.
After the horrendous middle school years, it was those feelings of escape that got me involved with the theater in high school. And it was there that I felt something completely different when I was on stage. Not only was I transitioning from frivolous musicals to mature drama, but there was something else there, a different feeling.
There are some things in life that you can’t put into words. This feeling is definitely one of them. There is something about developing a character not only on lines but on instinct and gut feeling. There is something about working up to a huge performance, building bond sand making a family. There is something about putting yourself out there on a stage, not knowing if the audience will accept you or not. It’s a feeling of inexplicable intensity and emotion. It is something that is rarely tapped in life, but once it is, the flowing of this feeling never stops. And when the curtain falls on whatever you just presented to the audience, you feel content, whole, and complete.
So here I am in my senior year, looking for colleges, and the best programs all because of two measly words. Two words that gave me a taste of something that I could consume everyday of my life. Something that I have almost grown dependent on, something I’m addicted to. The feeling of completeness, the feeling of intensity, and the feeling of the theater.