Behind the Curtains

When the stage lights first warmed my face this fall, I realized I was stepping into something far bigger than a school production—I was stepping into a world where I could become anyone. This fall, I had the amazing opportunity to act in my school’s fall play—a reenactment of A Christmas Carol. I played Fred, Scrooge’s nephew, and Lawrence, Bob Cratchit’s youngest son. (Fo

r anyone wondering, Lawrence was an invention of our scriptwriter and didn’t exist in the original book.) Getting into character for both roles was challenging. There were some scenes where I had less than a minute to change from a charming, energetic married man to a childish little boy. That whiplash of identities forced me to push myself in ways I never had before, and every successful switch felt like its own small victory.My favorite part of the play was the early rehearsals, when we hadn’t yet memorized our lines. We would do funny improvs based on what we thought the scenes might be like, and those improvs were then used to help write the script. I loved how the scripts were tailored to how we wanted the characters to behave—not just how Dickens originally wrote them. Those rehearsals were full of laughter, creativity, and the growing feeling that we were building something special together. I really enjoyed working with the rest of the cast, and during tech week, we bonded over eight-hour rehearsals and delicious food. Credit to the parent drama association—they kept us well fed and happy. By the end of the week, it truly felt like we were a family, united by exhaustion, excitement, and a shared love of the story we were telling. Probably the toughest moment of the play was on closing night, when several unexpected things happened. First, our sound manager was caught in heavy traffic and arrived late, which meant our microphones were live for the first half of the show. This forced us to be careful not only onstage but also offstage, since the audience could hear every noise we made. On top of that, one of our actors accidentally forgot a small scene. While it didn’t affect the plot, it threw off the rest of the cast, who luckily were able to improvise and get the show back on track. Moments like these reminded me that live theatre is unpredictable—but also that it thrives on teamwork. The funniest moment of the show came during a scene when the audience was asked to do a “Tinkerbell” to see if Scrooge would live or die. A funny twist in our production is that the ghosts tell the audience they didn’t ring loud enough and then walk off, even though Scrooge still lives. However, in one performance, when the ghosts said the audience hadn’t rung loud enough, the audience started ringing louder, prompting one of the ghosts to say, “I don’t even know why you’re still trying.” The whole theatre erupted in laughter—including the cast backstage. Finally, I believe I grew tremendously as a person through this experience. I was able to step out of my comfort zone and speak on stage in front of 150 people. On top of that, I formed strong bonds with my castmates, most of whom I had never met before. What began as a show became a community—and, in many ways, a second home. As our school’s Winter Play approaches, I look forward to working with the people I love on another amazing production.