On Having Stage Fright
“We're actors in our lives, pretendin' to be who we want people to think we are.”
~Simone Elkeles, Perfect Chemistry
One of the biggest reasons I never stuck with performance after high school, aside from the insane competition of it all, is that I have horrible, crippling stage fright.
But it seems to be selective.
When I teach, I'm all set. I've taught everything from 300 person lectures at Uni to a class of two third graders. I crack jokes, call on people, I turn my back on middle school kids, and have never been intimidated or sweaty or anything. Because I have something they don't.
The answers to the exam questions.
They need me. I know the subjects I teach inside and out. I pour myself into my lessons, and I speak honestly with people when they ask questions or want to talk about specific legal cases or books I've read, authors I love. I'm never more exhausted than after a full day of teaching. It is physically and emotionally draining if you do it right, but never nerve wracking.
Try to get me on a stage and it's a whole different story.
I remember having a lot of confidence when I was a kid. I got a lead role in a play at my church, and that was no easy task; it was a big church with lots of kids. But the next year, when I went to audition for the school play, I had to turn around and sing to the wall because I was so nervous. And that never went away.
The worst part is, I never performed alone. I was always in a choir, always with a group, and still, the thought of being on stage and having people look at me was terrifying. Even walking down the aisle at my friend's wedding, where they had somewhere upwards of 400 people crammed in the church, made me dizzy. That wasn't even about me!
Yet somehow, I've been performing all year. At a legitimate theater company (and in one film--I mean, why?!). Like a real one. Like where they advertise, and people pay to watch it. This isn't just me and my friends putting on plays in our backyard while wearing our parents shoes. It's real. It matters.
I was just in a Miscast Concert, we only had 4 shows and at one point I heard my inner monologue right before going on. I was telling myself to have fun.
I'm always so scared when I'm onstage and it kills me. I don't even know why. No one I know ever comes to watch me, so it's not like I'm trying to impress anyone. I'm under no allusions that I'm good at this (frankly, I'm not bad), but it's not even like I'm trying to further a career. But I know what I'm doing. I practice and I'm not the worst person to look at (except on film, I look like a turd).
So what do I have that this audience needs? There's no exam at the end, although I usually get asked, "You were in this show? Oh..."
How do you learn to enjoy doing something you love?
Only because I would disappoint the people I've been working with, do I stick it out and actually get on stage come show night. At that point we're all pretending. Them to be a demigod, a 12-year-old scientist, a court jester, a mute girl scared of fire.
I'm just pretending to be a brave person, pretending to be a tree (I'm usually cast as something in the background).
One of the google searches that came up in the drop down menu, when I was looking up definitions of stage fright, was "stage fright urination" and I'm happy to report, we're not at that point.
Yet.
~Simone Elkeles, Perfect Chemistry
One of the biggest reasons I never stuck with performance after high school, aside from the insane competition of it all, is that I have horrible, crippling stage fright.
But it seems to be selective.
When I teach, I'm all set. I've taught everything from 300 person lectures at Uni to a class of two third graders. I crack jokes, call on people, I turn my back on middle school kids, and have never been intimidated or sweaty or anything. Because I have something they don't.
The answers to the exam questions.
They need me. I know the subjects I teach inside and out. I pour myself into my lessons, and I speak honestly with people when they ask questions or want to talk about specific legal cases or books I've read, authors I love. I'm never more exhausted than after a full day of teaching. It is physically and emotionally draining if you do it right, but never nerve wracking.
Try to get me on a stage and it's a whole different story.
I remember having a lot of confidence when I was a kid. I got a lead role in a play at my church, and that was no easy task; it was a big church with lots of kids. But the next year, when I went to audition for the school play, I had to turn around and sing to the wall because I was so nervous. And that never went away.
The worst part is, I never performed alone. I was always in a choir, always with a group, and still, the thought of being on stage and having people look at me was terrifying. Even walking down the aisle at my friend's wedding, where they had somewhere upwards of 400 people crammed in the church, made me dizzy. That wasn't even about me!
Yet somehow, I've been performing all year. At a legitimate theater company (and in one film--I mean, why?!). Like a real one. Like where they advertise, and people pay to watch it. This isn't just me and my friends putting on plays in our backyard while wearing our parents shoes. It's real. It matters.
I was just in a Miscast Concert, we only had 4 shows and at one point I heard my inner monologue right before going on. I was telling myself to have fun.
I'm always so scared when I'm onstage and it kills me. I don't even know why. No one I know ever comes to watch me, so it's not like I'm trying to impress anyone. I'm under no allusions that I'm good at this (frankly, I'm not bad), but it's not even like I'm trying to further a career. But I know what I'm doing. I practice and I'm not the worst person to look at (except on film, I look like a turd).
So what do I have that this audience needs? There's no exam at the end, although I usually get asked, "You were in this show? Oh..."
How do you learn to enjoy doing something you love?
Only because I would disappoint the people I've been working with, do I stick it out and actually get on stage come show night. At that point we're all pretending. Them to be a demigod, a 12-year-old scientist, a court jester, a mute girl scared of fire.
I'm just pretending to be a brave person, pretending to be a tree (I'm usually cast as something in the background).
One of the google searches that came up in the drop down menu, when I was looking up definitions of stage fright, was "stage fright urination" and I'm happy to report, we're not at that point.
Yet.
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