Don't Stop Singing

“We do on stage things that are supposed to happen off. Which is a kind of integrity, if you look on every exit as being an entrance somewhere else.” 
― Tom Stoppard, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead



This post is going to be a bit different from my previous ones, as this one is going to be more personal rather than some sort of deep philosophical crap I came up with off the top of my head to share with the internet, only worsening my own messiah complex. This post is going to be about the therapeutic effects of drama and the performing arts, and about how I believe participating in these art forms has saved me on multiple occurrences.

    To get into this, things are going to have to get a little personal, so lets slip into something a little comfortable and get to know each other a little better.

I was 9 years old when I was originally diagnosed with a healthy dose of anxiety mixed with an even healthier does of ADHD. I cried a lot. Like a lot a lot. Like I'm talking an obnoxious amount of crying. I cried about things 9 year old's shouldn't even be thinking about, like death, and the doubt of the existence of an after life (which before you say anything, yes I do believe in) and all that fun stuff. I think it's safe to say I was a pretty unhappy 3rd grader with a lot of heavy stuff on her mind. The year I was diagnosed with all these goodies was also the year I was in my first ever musical; The Jungle Book, and took my first ever drama lessons. It was at these drama lessons and during this musical that I felt happy. That I wasn't thinking about how vast the universe is and how death is inevitable. It was while I was dressed as an orangutan singing about  becoming a man cub that I was having fun, and loving every second of life.

This was my first taste of theater and it was that year that set my life on course towards show after show.

I was very involved in drama until the start of Middle School, when at this point the only exposure I got to drama was during my "Theater Arts" class which I took every year as my elective, seeing as it was my favorite class. Middle School was needless to say rough, as it was for many people. I was bullied by my peers and dreaded getting out of bed everyday. Life seemed pointless, and to tell you the truth if you we're to ask me about something that happened in middle school I probably couldn't recall it, it's almost like middle school is just one big repressed memory. Thinking back on it, I'm almost certain that if I would have sought help, I would have been diagnosed with some sort of depression. I was lonely, afraid and sad.

My summer going into the 8th grade I participated in a musical theater camp (note that this was during the sad woe is me Ellen era). My first day of camp I was nervous and prepared to spend another two weeks lonely, only this time with more singing and dancing. As soon as I entered the theater a girl ran up to me and gave me a hug, I was a bit surprised by this, and my face must of shown it because the girl followed up the hug with, "I'm sorry... you just looked lonely". I often wonder if that girl ever realized how much that meant to 13 year old Ellen. At this musical theater camp I rekindled my love for performing arts and found home once again in the theater.

Even though I am by no means a phenomenal actor or singer (definitely not dancer)

^actual footage of me dancing 

 I continued my high school career participating in shows, choirs, piano and voice lessons. I found a home and a family like no other in my high schools arts department (or as we lovingly called it; "The F Wing") and I will forever be grateful that I got to experience such a fantastic and loving program. Although I was never cast a lead or given many big solos during my time in the F-Wing, I would not change the experience I had for the world. However at the end of my senior year I went through some stuff and swore to myself I would cut down my participation in performing arts when I entered college.

Up until recently college has been a less than perfect experience for me. I once again sunk into a depression and had no motivation to participate in life or go out and make friends. I felt trapped and even considered leaving my school and trying something new, for the sake of my own mental health. I have only realized what I have been missing in my life recently. That thing I have been missing is drama and the performing arts. I have been helping out with my school's Children's Theater for the past couple of weeks, and for the first time since coming to school I feel not so sad. Although I am only on run/stage crew, just the act of sitting back stage makes me feel more at peace and at home.

Every time I have fallen into a dark place it was been the arts that has pulled me out in some way shape or form. I truly believe that the arts have a truly therapeutic effect on people and can help people through tough times like nothing else.

The moral I hope you all get from my story is this; no matter how ticked you get that you didn't get the role, or how stressed you get during tech week, if you find passion in something don't give it up for trivial reasons. In the end it is what we love that gives us life.

Please, don't stop singing.

-Ellen

"There are Children Starving in Africa!"

“Complaining does not work as a strategy. We all have finite time and energy. Any time we spend whining is unlikely to help us achieve our goals. And it won't make us happier.” 
― Randy Pausch

“I personally believe we developed language because of our deep inner need to complain.” 
― Jane Wagner

Before we get into this post lets set the scene.

You're about 9 or 10 years old and it's about 7 or 8 o'clock in the evening. You're sitting in the living room or basement or your bedroom playing Super Mario on your Nintendo 64. You're getting really into it when your mother yells "DINNER!" from the kitchen. A bit irritated  you  yell back, "ONE MORE LEVEL!".

"DINNER. NOW."

"BUT MOOooooOOOOOoooOOM!!"

"NOW!"

You reluctantly put down the controller and join your family for dinner, which to your despair includes a hefty serving of broccoli. You spend most of the dinner pushing the broccoli aside and enjoying the rest of your meal, completely vegetable free. This is when your mother says the thing, the thing that we have all heard at some point in out life, that dreaded phrase, that to be honest, did not make much sense at the time; "Please eat your vegetables! There are starving children in Africa!"

Although this scene is a bit cliche, I feel we, as a generation, could learn from it. The fact of the matter is that there ARE starving children in Africa. There ARE people who have so much less than us. So then why do we all complain so much? Something I've noticed recently is that people seem to complain... simply for the sake of complaining.

You have an essay to write?
UUGHHHHHHHHHHHH

You have to go visit your Great Aunt Beth this weekend?
AARRGHHHHH

Dinner isn't quiet to your liking tonight?
I HAVE LOST THE WILL TO GO ON

When we step back and take a look at things, most of us really don't have it that bad.

For example, and I'm guilty of this too;
At my school one thing students LOVE to complain about is the quality of the food in the cafeteria. But why? You don't have to prepare the food (it magically appears on a counter for you to grab and put on a plate), It's not old or expired or rotten, you don't have to clean the dishes (they magically disappear through a door and come out clean). So then if things are so easy, why do so many people spend so much time complaining about this? What does this complaining accomplish? The answer of course; is nothing.

Another example is the complaints that occur when we are asked to do something that might be a little out of our way. Ironically, these are usually things we signed up for in the first place. If you auditioned for and made it in to a show or musical of some sort, why would you complain when you have to fulfill the expectations of being in this show? If you applied to College/ University and got in, why would you complain when you have to do the work required to achieve your major?

Complaining for the most point, unless you are starting a revolution of some sort, is a pretty pointless act. It accomplishes nothing and does not improve society in anyway (note that I'm talking about complaints without action).

So sometimes you get handed the short end of life, embrace it! Don't waste time whining about the paint that accidentally got pulled off the ceiling of your dorm room and the fine you'll have to pay for it (it's a long story), pay the fine and move on!

Pointless complaints are something all humans are guilty of, especially including myself. It's something I feel we could all work on. So next time you let out a loud UGGGHHHHHH after having a rough day in class/work, think about whether or not that UUUGHHHH will solve anything.

In short; think about those starving children in Africa.

-Ellen

An Inconvenient Truth.

“Stop taking pride in your ability to destroy yourself.”

—	Michelle K.

 I am about to make a statement, a statement that many of you are most likely not going to agree with. I believe that people enjoy being busy, stressed and sleep deprived. "But Ellen, what would possibly possess you to think such a thing?". Well today is your lucky day because you're about to find out!

 "Ugh, I wish I had time to see that new movie"

  "You got a full 8 hours last night? Lucky! I only got 3 hours of sleep last night!"

  "Don't even talk to me about being busy, have you SEEN my schedule lately??"

  " Here, let me walk you through my super busy schedule so that you can feel less accomplished than me"

Chances are, you have come across people who are OBSESSED with statements like the ones above, although they may not be as blunt about it. It's the; "look how much more I'm doing than you! I'm accomplishing so much more than you!" attitude. However if we were being completely honest with ourselves, it's more of the; "look at how sleep deprived I am! I'm going to die from a stress induced heart attack at a much younger age than you!" attitude. So why do people feel the need to let everyone know just how busy they are? Why are people so proud of the fact that they working themselves to death? I personally blame a very evident shift in our societies views on what's more important; sleep and relaxation, or doing something with every minute of our existence.
     To prove this point I'm going to go to a couple quotes, our first quote comes from William Shakespeare's Henry IV;

 "O sleep! O gentle sleep! 

Nature’s soft nurse, how have I frighted thee,
That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down 
And steep my senses in forgetfulness? 
Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs,
Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee,
And hush’d with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber,
Than in the perfum’d chambers of the great,
Under the canopies of costly state, 
And lull’d with sound of sweetest melody?".

Sounds like sleep is pretty great right? Then why did our ideals shift from the idea that sleep is great and something to love and enjoy to this quote from Thomas Edison, “Sleep is a criminal waste of time, inherited from our cave days". We have become a society of, "You can sleep when you're dead" thinkers, and with this attitude, that might be sooner than you think. 

Because of our societies praise of hard work, never ceasing, you must go, GO, GO. People feel the need to prove to others that they are really busy all the time. It's a sick game of "yeah you're really busy I guess.. but look at ME!". 

     And here is where we come to the inconvenient truth mentioned in the title. No one really cares how busy you are. If anything; you're only making others feel bad about not overloading their own schedules, thus furthering the cycle. No one cares to take a look at your schedule or to hear about how little sleep you got last night because you were reading a text book you aren't going to retain for the next day anyway. Trust me; everyone is just as busy as you are and don't need to hear your schedule as well. 

     I guess the real question I'm asking is; since when was sacrificing physical and mental health something to brag about?

-Ellen