Going abroad was not in my plans, far from it. I had come to Barnard as a varsity athlete expecting to spend my next four years with squash racquets, women’s history books, and a couple of beers in my hands. In fact, there were many collegiate expectations and ideas I never fully achieved. Firstly, I came to college wanting to study Political Science, be a top athlete, remain single all four years, get all As, and avoid carbs. All things I never fulfilled, and thank God I didn’t. If I had never given up the chase after the person I thought I was supposed to be, I wouldn’t be where I am today–happier than I’ve ever been, partaking in the best journey of my life, and chasing after something worth chasing for, a dream of mine I had stuck in my pocket a long time ago: acting.
This leap from athlete to actress wasn’t as easy as swapping out a squash court for a stage, books for plays, and a pint of beer for a gin and tonic. It was a cyclical journey full of failures, processes of elimination, pursuits, failing at said pursuits, and coming back full circle to a hobby I had been attracted to since I was six years old. If someone were to ask me what the hardest part of the going abroad process was, I would have to say it was the decision to apply.
Applying to study acting in London meant that I’d be leaving behind all the things I held dearest to me–family, friends, memories, four dogs, a sorority, an improv troupe, and worst of all my Squash team. I felt silly, stupid, and irresponsible for even thinking about applying. Acting? Who did I think I was? I hadn’t even been in a full fledge production at Barnard. But there was an itch, a constant hunger for this art form that kept aching within me. I wasn’t going to ever know what I was missing if I didn’t try. So I did; I tried. I applied, then I auditioned, then I got in, then I told my family and team, and soon enough I was on my red eye flight, bound for Heathrow Airport.
I like to think of myself as a brave woman, emotionally sturdy, maybe even confident. Yet walking off that plane in London I was more terrified than I had ever been in my entire life. I was lost, both physically and emotionally. I felt like I had left my life behind in New York, that I had made some terrible mistake. It wasn’t until weeks later that I began to see how a life was beginning to blossom for me in London.
Acting school is everything you’d expect it to be. Chanting, dancing, and catatonic outbursts consume the hallway. Shakespeare monologues echo through the rooms and everyone smells of cigarettes and green juice. It’s a magical place. Teachers curse, a lot, students curse back, and we all curse together over a pint of Guinness at the end of a long day. Classes are hard and demanding. You are expected to be present 100% of the time and to make intellectual, precise, and definitive choices 100% of the time. The course work, the time, the energy that is required of a student is emotionally, spiritually, and physically draining. But, as we snuggle into our beds, worn and torn from the day, our ribs aching either from laughing or crying too much, we always sleep well because we remember how much we love it.
The drama academy isn’t always fun. There is always a lot of work. I can’t travel as much as my other friends and classes run from 9:00 AM-6:00 PM, Sunday through Friday. Many a times, I felt envious of my traveling, chic, super Euro friends, who visited a new country every weekend. I was especially envious of them on the days where acting got really demanding, the days I’d leave class crying or disappointed. Acting is just personal; it can be the most personal thing in the world. In a way, you jump out of your skin into a new character. However, more often than not, you are using your own real emotions, experiences, fears, and life to depict imaginary circumstances. Thus, the actor is shedding his or her skin to reveal a character rather than jumping into a new one completely. So, yes, very personal stuff. Teachers can say things that hurt. Teachers can think you’re untalented; others can think you’re the best thing since fish and chips. Some will praise you and some will knock you down. Some will prod and poke you on Monday just to praise and worship you on Tuesday. It’s convoluted and confusing, but, boy, it is the best challenge in the world.
I’ve learned many things about myself whilst being here. I’ve learned to be independent, confident, diligent, and open. I’ve learned many other things too, things that are harder to squeeze into a word or two. I’ve made friends that I’ll keep for a lifetime, and I’ve met people whose talent or kindness will always affect me. In a way, coming to London and being a part of this program has taken me back to the essence of being a kid again. It has made me feel forever curious, filled with sentiments that the world is wondrous, wide, and full of possibility. I’ve fallen in love with Shakespeare, London fog, green juice, Guinness, masks, bad Chinese food, and double decker busses. I’ve decided that I do indeed want to be an actress and have been really proud of myself for taking risks.
Yes, studying abroad was far from the plan. So was being an actress. But, if I learned anything from being abroad, it is that the best experiences come from broken plans. I urge those with a set trajectory to challenge that trajectory and stumble off the beaten path. Remember the dreams you’ve placed in your back pocket and stay a craze-eyed kid for as long as possible. Perfection is an illusion, and failure is a step closer to success. And if you can, pick up a play!