When I was in the tenth grade, I decided to take five extra classes on top of my school classes, totaling to a whopping nine classes in one semester, as opposed to the usual four. I was drowning. I was caught in a torrent of assignments and essays and tests and quizzes, and I was drowning. Nobody seemed to notice my slow descent into exhaustion. I kept going, and going, and going, because there was nothing else I could do. When I was in the tenth grade, I decided to join the fall play. Most of my friends were in theatre. My best friend was in theatre. I probably wouldn't like it, but it wouldn't hurt to give it a try. I was right. I didn't like it. I loved it. I stepped on that stage, and suddenly I could breathe. I had broken out of the water, there was a glorious burn of oxygen in my lungs, and I could breathe. I wasn't me. I wasn't an overburdened, exhausted, burn-out of a kid. I was just another character. It was freeing. I loved it. I had such a small role, but nothing could ever compare to the exhilarating feeling of being on stage. Of being up there, being someone other than myself, someone who could just discard their problems like a heavy jacket. I was no longer drowning. I was treading water. Someone had given me their hand and pulled me out of that frigid riptide. I was no longer drowning. I took comfort in the fact that it wasn't me, on that stage. It was a butcher, or a driver, or a dancer, or whatever I needed to be in that moment. And I took comfort in the fact that no matter how the audience hated me, it wasn't me that they hated. It was hard work, and for all intents and purposes I should have been even more tired. But every time I stepped on that stage, I was invigorated. It was like a shelter in a downpour. In all honesty, theatre saved me. I found it easier to complete the rest of my assignments. I didn't find day-to-day life to be such a chore. I was freer, and happier, than I had been in a long, long time. The minute I stepped on that stage, and the water cleared out of my lungs, I knew this was what I was going to be doing for the rest of my life.

I was a sophomore in high school when COVID first hit. Now I'm going to be a senior, I'm going to graduate soon and go off to college. It was so far away and now it's already happening. At first I thought that COVID wouldn't last that long. I was enjoying my time at home. I did all my school work in an hour, I read books outside on top of every small ledge I could find. I learned 30 minute long dances from YouTube, I painted, I exercised, I was on top of the world. When I got the notification that school would be online for the rest of the year I was overjoyed. I was never going to pass chemistry if we went back in person. But my mom started working from home, and my dad had weirdly long breaks from work. It was nothing we couldn't handle. I just didn't enjoy being around my parents that much. I did miss my friends, in the beginning we made group chats and stayed up late playing cards against humanity online together, we played among us. But then those calls became less frequent and I would talk to my friends less and less every day. When summer came I was bored. I know that isn't anything stupendous but I'm telling the truth. I finally got into therapy that summer and it didn't really help but I was ok, just bored. Because of COVID our spring school musical was postponed, during the summer we were allowed to practice and perform. We had long days learning choreography for West Side Story! It was amazing, I finally had social interaction with my friends again, we got prepared and finally the first night of the show was here. We were filming it since we weren't allowed in the audience. It went horribly, dances were wrong, audio started in strange places, cues were missed, and Tony's blood packet popped a scene too early. Luckily we had more performances that we could get right. I woke up the next morning and I found out that someone in our cast (that all of us had been away from for more than 2 weeks) had tested positive for COVID. To say that I was devastated would be an understatement, but I held it in until that night. I had the worst panic attack that I've ever had. I could barely breathe and I couldn't control my limbs. My mom got so worried, she made me talk to my therapist about it. I am ok, my mom just gets worried sometimes. After that I got out alot more with my friends and I was getting more and more worried about junior year. I was scared of my classes to be specific. I was taking 4 college classes, yeah 4. The beginning of the school year went better than expected. AP Physics was hard but that was just because the class is hard in general. We were back to learning in person with extra safety precautions. There were 6 lunches now instead of 4, we could only walk one way in the hallways, we had to wash off our desks after every bell and, we had staggered release from every bell, freshman and seniors, then juniors and sophomores. All in all it wasn't bad but now I had to go through an obstacle course to get to my classes. November 19th 2 days after my birthday My family and I are out for my birthday dinner, I just turned 17. And we get the call. All classes will be online but after school activities may continue as scheduled. This time the classes had times. Starting at 7:45 am we had to be on a zoom call with every one of our classes every day for attendance. In most of my classes I was the only one with my face cam on. During this time we were putting on A Midsummer Night's Dream by William Shakespeare. I was playing Starveling, one of the Mechanicals. We were rehearsing after school almost every day in order to get ready for our performance early January. School went back to in person around January 15th with new rules for being contact traced, the students had to go to school but could not do after school activities. During hell week for the show, one of my friends, Jack, got contact traced. He was irreplaceable. We had to push back the show until he got back. The next time I as well as a bunch of other cast members got contact traced. So we pushed the show back again. By this point our director had everyone in the show be replaceable except Jack and one other person, Aidan. The show approaches and Aidan gets contract traced. As they say, the third time's the charm. We had our show the next weekend and everything went as smoothly as it could under the circumstances. Our spring musical was Godspell, I was Peggy. By this time vaccines were being given out to people 16 or older. Only 2 people in our cast were younger than 16 at this time and most of us were trying to get the vaccine. When the show rolled around one 2 people in our 14 person cast were fully vaccinated. Luckily those two happened to be Jesus and Judas. Everything worked out fine, well as fine as anything can work out. Now I am fully vaccinated, I am the Historian of our school's thespian branch. I am writing this at 2 am and I am stressed about the year to come.

What if I told you I had never been to the theatre? You wouldn't believe me, and that would be absolutely right. At least I wouldn't talk about the destiny of the theatre without knowing what it is like. In March 2019 I went to see a Pushkin play. Just before the show commenced one man had got up on the stage and told the audience they were attending a performance on World Theatre Day. I was struck – how come it was World Theatre Day and I didn't even have the smallest clue about it? Upon reflection, I supposed that my case wasn't unique. There are a lot of people whose life is not connected with drama and hence such a celebration would be entirely new to them. It is a great pity. But then I realized that the 2019 was designated as a Year of Theatre in my country. Therefore, by a good fortune I had ended up at the theatre on the World Theatre Day in the Russian's Year of Theatre. What a coincidence! During his speech, the speaker in the theatre mentioned a common opinion: that the film industry will never replace the theatre. - Why? Because theatre actors show us real and natural emotions while in movies it feels fake. Being honest, I can't agree with him. Without any doubt the theatre is the field of live emotions, and will be around for many more years to come. But can we really call on-screen actors fake? Don't you believe Leonardo DiCaprio in that legendary scene from Titanic when Jack and Rose are standing on the ship bow, enjoying the magnificent orange sunset together? I bet its famous background music is probably already playing in your head, right? But I have another answer to the question what distincts plays from the films so much. What will ensure the longevity of the theatre is its simplicity. Its unpretentiousness. The more films I watch, the more I understand that I don't need that immaculate make up on the artists' skin, I don't need that detailed colour correction of the picture, I don't want to see all those sprawling cinematic shots anymore. I want to see the actor from his head to toes, so I can pay attention to the details I want to, and not to be fixed to what the director wants me to notice. I want to see incomplete sets, so my imagination can fill in the gaps, or, on the opposite, they won't distract me from the action. I want to appreciate actors' movements on the stage, to see how they leave to the backstage to change clothes or grab some props. The theatre is so joyful to me because it's all happening in a real time mode. Right in front of me. With the one and only take. Moreover, we can't disagree that theatre shows are always unique. Even if it seems not so dynamic or too uncomplicated to you, you will never see the same performance twice. “But what if an actor messes up the words, for example?” - you may ask. Well, I truly believe that the lack of chance to redo something makes the performance even more special and sincere. It gives a show that lifelike realness. You know what also diverge a theatre show from a film? A possibility to interact with the audience. Fairly recently people have came out with a new type of play – the immersive show. I don't know who invented it, but I'm sure they are genius. During such performances viewers are literally on a working stage, actors walking among them, interacting and bringing them into the action. I was once honored to dance with Daisy and to have a small talk with the Great Gatsby himself! No “immerse yourself in the moment and escape into the film with our newest 3D technology” can beat the real thing. But even with the physical limits of our reality, creative solutions may still be found. In that Pushkin's play for one short scene a dog character was need to be played. So, what did the director do? He gave an artist a furry jacket which he used as a hand-doll and barked himself. Funny, untypical and definitely memorable. Combining all these facts, a cinematography can't replace the theatre, however, the theatre can't replace it either. After all, we watch plays with our own eyes, while films we watch with the director's vision. And that is why I state that the theatre is eternal.

Annika Thompson 2/22/19 The stage is set. The elegant tufts of tulle on the metal hangers flutter with the bustle of backstage preparation. The house is silent, but only for a moment, as eager theatre patrons gather outside its doors, lining the gold-tipped velvet ropes that accompany its entrances. The scene beneath the stage is chaotic, and the crisp, strong smell of hairspray has settled in the air. Many a performer are running about, tying bows made from pink ribbon and adjusting crystalline headpieces so they will sparkle just right when they catch the magnificent stage lights. Last-minute concerns about that tricky set of turns arise, but the doubts are brushed aside as a loving partner reinstills confidence with reassuring words. The chaos turns into chaotic serenity as the minute details of performance preparation are all accounted for. The performers of the opening act take their places on the slightly scuffed black stage and in the wings behind the grand black curtains. The air is filled with a heavy silence, as the theatre patrons have taken their seats and are anxiously awaiting the arrival of the orchestra's first notes. The excitement floating about the stage is compelling and powerful, but the performers must not move a muscle until the right moment. Months of intense preparation have led to that moment. The lights finally flick on, and the exquisite music begins. This is the right moment. This is ballet. The world inside the theatre during a ballet is a different world from that outside the theatre's doors. This ballet world is far away, and is not of an earthly kind. Magic occurs through the fluid motions of a ballerina's body. A story is being told without words, and there are no limitations in this faraway place. The ballerinas are bringing their audience along with them in the journey they are performing. The audience is transported to another dimension in which fairytales are reality and time is not an element. Every emotion displayed by the performers are another part of the story, so one must not look away so as to not miss a single moment of it. Words do not belong in this magical world within the dark theatre, only music, motion and facial expressions so powerful that words are not missed. A ballet is a breath of fresh air, a release from the bounds of real life, even if only for a short period of time on a Saturday evening. It does not matter what is going on outside the theatre's doors when a ballet is being performed on its stage; the captivating, breathtaking performance is enough to make it all stop being important for a while. A ballet becomes moments shared between the performers and their audience. A bond, even if only temporary, is formed between these two parties throughout the course of the story, the journey. This bond is part of the magic of ballet as well. There is nothing else in the world that can foster a bond quite like this one. The moments of a ballet are meant to be cherished by both the performers and the audience. For a ballerina, performing in a ballet is their chance to share their most treasured passion with whomever is longing to see a good story, and for the audience member, attending a ballet provides them with the opportunity to step away from life and see a good story. There are no bounds when it comes to ballet; there is only magic, and chaotic serenity.

The girl who seemed on top of the world often gasped for air, thrown and battered by the waves of an angry sea. If you asked her what was wrong; if you asked her how she felt; if you asked her to explain everything awry she'd hold her tongue, smile, and say “nothing.” Looking back though, I know she was depressed. I know she was anorexic or quickly on her way to being so. I know she was falling apart at the seams. Kids would steal her food the one day she had it just to throw it away before her eyes; tears would swell and pour out while she sat alone in the dark corner of class; body, mind, and heart would ache ferociously till she yearned for her eyelids to close and fall in an unwakeable slumber. When her head felt too heavy to lift, when she felt herself breaking and anxiety creeping up this girl woke up everyday and kept waking up everyday for one reason and one reason only: rehearsal. “All I have to do is get through today, just one more day. 15 more hours. . . 10 more hours. . . 5 more hours. . . 1 more hour.” I look back now, transported through this window of a skinny, smiling girl in costume holding a bouquet of flowers standing next to her family. Her hair shines gold, her eyes glimmer blue, her flowers beam pink. I still have my hair and my eyes and those flowers are still my favorite, but everything past the frozen frame feels beyond seas. On the first day of rehearsals this girl stood in the choir room doing something she never dared do, sing. Sing so people, if they listened, could hear her. As time moved on this girl learned new choreography and danced in the lobby, danced like no one was watching. This girl put everything out on stage like she didn't have a care in the world. She would sing and she would dance and she would act and she would let herself go free. This girl smiled everyday from 3:15 to 5:00. Smiled till her cheeks hurt and she thought she couldn't bare it anymore. The time after school in the lobby dancing, in the auditorium blocking, in the choir room singing, was her escape. Her portal to a fairytale land where she would do anything to keep returning. Once, while she ran in gym, the room began to spin and her guts threatened to pour out on the floor. The teacher sent her to the nurse's office and the nurse tried to send her home, but she refused to leave school. She had rehearsal and she needed it to get through the day. If she went home she'd have to go through a strenuous 12 hours without any help; without any escape. She needed to keep coming back to that mystic land, but closing night was quickly approaching and the fairytale reaching its ending. With her bullet, she grasped for the last wire ropes, something to anchor herself for the few coming months till the leaves fell off the trees and the cold brewed in and the next story would begin. The ropes fell fast and the anchor proved faulty. The ever changing world proved too much for this porcelain girl. To a stranger, this frozen moment encapsulates a girl having the time of her life, and in that one moment they'd be right, but soon after the waves smothered her, and this time she didn't have a reason to get out of bed. Weeks passed by since that photo was taken and she thought herself ready to say goodbye. A loss of hope, a note in her head, a plan in place, she dragged her body around school for what might be the last time. Walking to the class which knew her tears well, she froze. Stared. A poster hung on the wall “audition for the fall play” she read. Her blue eyes glimmered after being dark for so long. She knew she could do it, she knew she could get through the day, and she did, and everyday since. Years have passed by since that photo was taken on opening night, and now, though I no longer drown, rehearsal still gets me out of bed on the worst of days. I walk new halls that aren't so familiar with my tears, I see new classmates now young adults, I sit in new rooms in the center of a lit class. I have a new self-confidence, a new self-worth, new ways to cope if I feel my past begin to haunt. I am no longer a porcelain girl, I am an adaptable young woman with only one true constant: theatre. I will never give up my constant, for it remains my anchor if the sea begins to churn.

A/N: 4 characters are Rose, Olivia, Rose's Autocorrect (RA), and Olivia's Autocorrect (OA). I wrote this scene for Emerson Festival for my school as the opening scene for our devised piece and it is my favorite thing I've ever written! Enjoy (: ---------------------------------------------------------------- (lights go up on Rose & Olivia) Rose & Olivia: (talking to themselves) Do I text her? Do I not text her? Do I wait for her to text me? Do I get ignored for a third day in a row? Do I suffer again? (beat) I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna text her. (Taking out their phones and “texting”) Hi! Rose: Wow, two minds think-- RA: Alight. Rose: Right? Olivia: … Alight? Rose: Damn autocorrect. I meant-- RA: Rewrite. Rose: DAMN IT! Not rewrite. ALIKE! ALIKE! Olivia: (uncomfortable) Right… anyways, you looked really-- OA: Bountiful. Olivia: Today, Rose. Rose: I looked bountiful? Olivia: SHIT. NO, no. Rose: Autocorrect? Olivia: Yeah, what I meant to say was that you looked-- OA: Bootylicious. Rose: OH? Olivia: BEAUTIFUL! Rose: What? Olivia: Nevermind. Rose: Alright… Uh, are you going to the football game tomorrow? Olivia: Nah. Those things give me-- OA: Acupuncture. Rose: Umm. Okay! Thats cool. Olivia: ANXIETY! ANXIETY! Rose: This conversation is giving me anxiety. OA: Smelly. Rose: OKAY LISTEN-- Olivia: IT'S MY AUTOCORRECT I SWEAR! SORRY. I AM SORRY. S-O-R-R-Y. GOD. JUST MY LUCK. Rose: Haha, it's-- RA: Fish. Olivia: (confused) Blub? Rose: Blub? I meant fine. Olivia: Fine… um-- I have something to ask you. Rose: Alright-- RA: Lay on me. Olivia: That's a first. Rose: LET'S NOT GO THERE. I WAS TRYING TO SAY LAY IT ON ME. LIKE TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT TO ASK. Olivia: Do you wanna-- OA: Go drought with me? Rose: There's a drought? Where? Olivia: OUT! GO OUT! Rose: Outside? Olivia: No! Rose: I'm confused. Olivia, what are you trying to say? Olivia: ROSE WILL YOU PLEASE-- OA: HATE ME! Rose: I don't want to hate you. I really-- RA: Dislike you. Olivia: What? Rose: WHAT? Olivia: So that's how you feel about me? Rose: NO! AUTOCORRECT! I LIKE YOU, Olivia! I DON'T WANT TO-- RA: Date you. Olivia: I AM SO CONFUSED. Rose: HATE. I don't want to hate you. Olivia: Okay. Mine was autocorrected too. I definitely don't want you to hate me. I meant to ask if you would like to-- OA: Debate me. Rose: In what? Olivia: DATE. DATE ME. Rose: So you want me to debate whether I should date you or not? Olivia: Wow. That autocorrect actually worked out. Will you? RA: Guess. Olivia: No? Rose: YES. Yes. I want to date you. Olivia: Nice. Rose: Nice. Olivia: Cool. Rose: Cool. Olivia: Thank you for saying yes. (END)