Student Blog: Becoming the Artist I'm Meant to Be

The great American composer and lyricist Stephen Sondheim once said, “Art, in itself, is an attempt to bring order out of chaos.” As we move into a new season of change, both in weather and in life, I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately, because theatre has always been the thing that brings clarity when everything else felt messy. 

Looking back at where I was last year, my life feels vastly different. My senior year of high school was overwhelming, exciting, and chaotic. I played leading roles in both my school’s musical and play, I helped direct our competitive one-act, and spent the summer assistant-directing a children’s community production of Willy Wonka. It was a season filled with creativity, responsibility, and a lot of learning.

It was also a season full of unexpected changes: plans that didn’t go the way I imagined, moments of doubt, and just A LOT of emotions. At the time, it felt like everything was shifting at once, and I wasn’t always sure how to keep up. 

Now, as a freshman in college, I can see that all of those changes were necessary. I don’t know if I necessarily believe that everything happens for a reason, but I feel as though my senior year helped make me who I am today. The chaos shaped me. Those experiences made me more than a stronger artist; they made me a more grounded person. I’m more patient with myself. I listen more. I show up more intentionally. And in my theatre work, I feel more present; I take more risks, I am more open to collaborating. I fully trust the process.

This new season of my life feels different. I’m still busy, still learning, and still dreaming about things, but now I feel more steady. My goals haven’t changed, rather the way I approach my goals. I’m not chasing perfection, I’m trying to chase growth. I am focusing on understanding who I am as an artist and what stories I feel called to tell. 

I think one of the most important things I’ve learned is that it is okay to be wrong or make a mistake. For a long time, I felt this pressure to get everything right the first time; to make the perfect choice, deliver the perfect performance, or handle every situation flawlessly. But I’ve learned this past year that growth doesn’t happen in the moments where everything goes right. It happens in the wrongs, the awkward tries, the scenes that flop, the choices you look back on and cringe.

Mistakes don’t mean you’re failing; they mean you’re learning. And letting myself believe that has taken so much off of my shoulders. It has helped me become braver when rehearsing and more honest with myself, making it all lead to something meaningful.

Like the changing seasons, I am realizing that transformation doesn’t always look dramatic. Sometimes it is subtle, like noticing you can breathe a little easier, or realizing you’re confident without even trying. But it is there. And I’m grateful for it.

A year ago, I was standing on the edge of what I wanted. This year, I am learning how to live inside of it. 

So as I move into this new season, I’m trying to hold onto one final piece of wisdom from the great American composer and lyricist Stephen Sondheim. It feels especially true now, both as an artist and as a person figuring things out along the way: “Don’t be afraid it won’t be perfect. The only thing to be afraid of, really, is that it won’t be.”

It’s a reminder I’m carrying with me into whatever comes next.