The world is my stage

The world is my stage

Leila Aboussir

Senior Shannon Cron breaks into song. Her thespian tendencies aren't typically well received.

Shannon Cron, Staff Writer

With auditions for “High School Musical” drawing near, it is vital that I start preparing. Not that I haven’t been preparing since the closing show of last year’s musical, because I have. I am a hardcore thespian.

Though living the life of a thespian may seem like no big deal, it actually is. It’s not so easy being the funniest, weirdest, and loudest group of students at BSM––especially when done in perfect harmony. Basically, my entire life has become a performance, and the world is my audience.

You see, my characterization doesn’t cease after I exit stage right. From tap dancing down the halls to singing in class, every choice I make carries a theatrical purpose. So when I pause for dramatic effect in daily conversation, don’t question it. That only ruins the moment.

Each day begins with an opening number, and although there usually isn’t a spotlight on me as I walk through the main entrance, I still shine. Usually, I draw my inspiration from “Hairspray” and sing, “Good Morning BSM,” as I enthusiastically prance into first hour––jazz hands and all. Next time, please feel free to join me. Every leading lady needs a chorus.

I must admit, it was slightly awkward when I broke into song and riffed during math class. But I really don’t understand the oddity in proclaiming, “You can’t bring me down, puzzling statistics problems” through my interpretation of “Defying Gravity.” I mean, I only climbed up onto my desk during the climax of the number.

Unfortunately, the excuse of, “It wasn’t me who failed my math test, it was my character,” doesn’t ever work. Teachers clearly don’t appreciate my dedication to the theatrical process. I guess I’m just conflicted––as most great artists are.

I found my thespian-self particularly distraught when my English class read “Romeo and Juliet” aloud. Watching my classmates butcher Shakespeare was too much for me to bear, so after recollecting myself through interpretive dance, I came back with some constructive criticism.

“You don’t seem to understand your character at all. What’s your motivation? Next time try thinking, how would Shannon say this line?” Or, “Have you ever considered soccer, or maybe math league? I don’t see any space on the stage for you.”

I didn’t mean to crush anyone’s confidence, but hey, the truth hurts. In order to ease their minds, I reminded them that “the sun will come out tomorrow,” and in case they forget anytime soon, I’m always happy to belt out the whole song. After all, it is a staple in my vast vocal repertoire.

As for “High School Musical,” I better get my head in the game. I mean, it’s the start of something new, and I’m about to bop to the top. So next time you see me in the halls, go ahead, clap for me. I’ll gladly take a bow.