Student Blog: Stay Gold

When I stepped out into the bright sunlight from the quiet corner of my bedroom, I had only two things on my mind: the stage and the dream.
The first time I read the first line in The Outsiders, Ponyboy Curtis wasn’t just a character. He was me, a kid navigating a world split between identities, trying to figure out where he belonged. As someone who rarely picked up a book, I didn’t expect to find myself on a page. But in Ponyboy, I did.

My “Greasers” are the parts of me that come alive in theatre. They are the late nights in rehearsal rooms, the courage to voice an idea, the thrill of stepping onto a stage and holding a story in my hands. Scrappy, relentless, unpolished, the heartbeat of what I love, bringing a new story to life. That Greaser spirit carried me into The Inspiration Show, a podcast I’ve filmed in my office for five years, producing over 100 episodes with Broadway and television professionals. I carried that energy into The Journey of Inspiration Through Theater, a show I wrote about my own journey, performed at The Green Room 42 alongside Broadway stars I once interviewed. On that stage, I wasn’t just performing, I was proving that heart, persistence, and community can turn a dream into reality. 

But every Greaser knows the rumble is coming. Mine doesn’t take place in a vacant lot, it’s entirely in my head. It’s juggling my course load, rehearsals for productions, applying for universities, hosting a podcast, and my part-time jobs. “It’s hard to write the story when the story’s writing me.” My Socs don’t come with rings on their fingers, they arrive as pressure, deadlines, and managing my time efficiently. 

To keep that rumble from swallowing me, I’ve had to build my own toolkit. I live by a color-coded calendar, school in blue, rehearsals in red, podcast tasks in yellow. Every Sunday night, I line up scripts and assignments side by side, reminding myself that both deserve rehearsal. I use checklists like cues in a script, crossing each one off like an exit cue. When the noise gets loud, I fall back on breathwork I learned for the stage: in for four, out for four. These small rituals, calendars, lists, and breath work assist me in turning chaos into choreography. They don’t silence the rumble, but they give it rhythm. 

Theatre is where both sides collide. It’s where pressure becomes purpose, ambition becomes discipline, and imagination becomes action. It’s also where I find belonging, the kind Ponyboy discovered only when he wrote his story. Onstage, I turn every internal rumble into rhythm, every imagined next chapter of my life into a script. The Greasers in me come alive, and the Socs in my head transform into energy I can channel into creation and pour out onto the stage.

“Stay gold, Ponyboy.” Those words have stayed with me. Staying gold is daring to dream even when the Socs are closing in and the rumble feels relentless. Staying gold is using that feeling to tell stories that connect, reflect, and inspire.

I am Ponyboy. I am the Greasers, and I face the Socs. And like him, I will keep fighting my rumble. Managing my work, course load, and dreams isn’t what pulls me away from the stage, it’s what shapes my story. It’s how I grow. It’s how I stay gold.