For most of my life, I’ve been told that I’m a natural born leader. In junior high and high school, teachers always looked to me as a trustworthy student in the class, but not in a “teacher’s pet” kind of way; in a “Mackenna knows how to get things done” kind of way.
Through my high school theatre department, I found a deep love for direction and choreography. Those disciplines allowed me to tie together my creative side and passion for being in charge. I always felt good being in charge, except when my peers decided I didn’t deserve their attention. They didn’t ignore my authority because I was weak or a pushover; I was just the same age as them.
Of course, this fact frustrated me to no end, and I often became fed up when I couldn’t get everyone on task because they looked at me as a friend and not as an authority figure. Students younger than myself treated me with respect by the virtue of being older and more experienced; however, that meant it was my closest friends who were the ones goofing off during rehearsal and ignoring my direction, which was definitely worse.
In the July of 2015, I started a website called the Arizona Young Actors’ Alliance, which holds the goal of easing tensions between youth theatres in the Phoenix metropolitan area and creating friendships between young actors and actresses. It has been so much fun to work on, and it has provided me with a plethora of opportunities. We actually just passed 50,000 page views on the site and are close to 500 likes on Facebook. I created successful programs such as dream casting––which is where kids make fake cast lists of musicals and plays with their friends––and gave out awards for work in the theatre last summer. However, holding two cabarets this past August was definitely the coolest project I got to work on through the website. We held one at a theater I had worked at previously and the other at a theater that actually reached out and wanted to work with me. I put together the cabarets with the help of some awesome adults, who always respected me like a fellow adult and walked me through trouble spots that I hadn’t worked on before. Still, I did a lot of the work myself, which was awesome, but stressful. Luckily, they turned out to be a crazy success, and now I’m working on two more for when I’m home for Winter Break!
I always expected to get some flack from the adults in the community. Because I’m a teenager, sometimes my needs get pushed aside and I end up having to adapt to adults, who are less organized, by myself. And, while most adults were very respectful and open to my little website, I got some standard “you’re only working with your friends” and “why are you not including my child?” messages on Facebook. However, because I have been working in the theatre community since seventh grade, I know all directors, regardless of age, get these sort of messages.
When we started working on the first cabaret, the biggest issue I faced was yet again this issue of my peers ignoring my authority. It began from the moment we started rehearsal. As we tried to put together the two group numbers, I was constantly having to remind people to stay focused, and some of the kids weren’t memorized, which was just totally wild to me. Then, as we started to get ready to begin the show, I noticed two of the boys and our sound guy setting up microphones. I had worked in the space before and it is a small enough theater that mics aren’t super necessary. In fact, the music director, Tracie, and I had decided no mics. Yet, here they were setting up microphones. Our sound guy didn’t know I had vetoed the microphones and actually shot me a message later apologizing if he overstepped his authority. I totally understood the anxiety over not having microphones, but it also felt troublesome that my voice as the director wasn’t being respected.
Later, before the show, one of my performers came up to me wanting to drop one of his songs about ten minutes before the show. I asked him repeatedly not to because it would complicate matters for me and my emcee. However, I could tell he was super nervous, and I didn’t want to make him perform something he wasn’t comfortable with. He’s a sweet kid who has done a lot to help the site. Even so, I couldn’t help but think “if I was thirty, would this conversation be going the same way?
The cabarets aren’t the only time I have faced challenges to my authority. Kids will ignore my deadlines for posts or just literally ignore me completely. I’m working on scheduling for our Christmas Cabaret and I had to go through almost nine different avenues to get in contact with a group of four boys who thought they had a conflict, but truly didn’t. When I moved to college, I tried to put together a team of teens back home to help me with some of the work, but it didn’t really work out because there was a lot of failing to meet deadlines or, again, failing to respond to me. (Some of them were super awesome about it and my gratitude for them is never-ending.) My favorite is when, on multiple occasions, someone has, frankly, bitched at me about how I didn’t use something they wrote, I didn’t give them a big enough solo, or I didn’t give them enough songs in one of the cabarets. I recently had to remind one of my little buddies that telling a director that you hate a song they’re asking you sing is not the best way to get their sympathy––which he couldn’t stop apologizing for. I know that none of this would happen if I weren’t eighteen.
One of the coolest things I’ve noticed about being Kenyon is my age doesn’t matter. I’m working on a production of 3C by David Adjmi right now and all of my actors and stage managers are so attentive and respectful during rehearsals. Our discourses are super professional, and I’m literally younger than some of them.
I love working on AYAA, and I love directing, and I love working with teenagers because I honestly think they’re the best age group to work on theatre with; all the kids I work with at home are so so crazy talented and bring a level of passion and willingness to learn I haven’t noticed with some of the adults in the community. Even when they piss me off, I could never stop being thankful for everyone who has shared any of their time and effort on this crazy idea I had. And, of course, the vast majority of the kids are super respectful of me––including some who are older than me as well––and constantly thank me for including them, but I guess it just gets hard when that isn’t the overall feeling.
I am crazy excited to see where my passion for directing and choreography take me as I start moving into the big, bad world of a “career.” (Eee gads.) However, I am super pumped to shed my baby director onesie and grow up into a full-blown lady in charge.
Image credits: Keith Aspinall, Arizona Young Actors’ Alliance