Student Blog: A Midsummer Night’s Dream of Senior Year

Walking into my school is something I do every morning. Usually, it’s a simple act, just another beginning, another day of studying the thing I love most in this world: theater. But this time, the moment felt heavier. My steps carried more purpose, my heartbeat a little quicker. And then it hit me: this was my last first day of high school, my first time walking through those doors as a senior.

Those doors weren’t just doors, they had become the gateway to my life for the past four years. Behind them were the memories of every role I’d played, every rehearsal that stretched late into the evening, every laugh that echoed through the auditorium, every moment that made me fall deeper in love with this art. Looking at them now, I couldn’t help but feel that the last few years had unfolded like a dream. Or maybe, more fittingly, like A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

I had always been immersed in the arts. I graduated from an arts-focused elementary school, where theater wasn’t just a subject, it was a way of learning, a way of growing, a way of becoming. Back then, my graduating show had been A Midsummer Night’s Dream. I was cast as Peter Quince, the mechanical who directs the rest of the actors. Stepping into his shoes felt strangely natural, like I was discovering a new part of myself that had always been waiting to surface. Theater had always called to me, but it was in that role that I realized it wasn’t just something I loved, it was my purpose.

Of course, it wasn’t easy. It was my first time performing Shakespeare, and the language intimidated me at first. I was afraid I wouldn’t live up to the challenge. But fear transformed into growth. By the time I bowed on that stage for the final time in elementary school, I knew I had left a piece of myself up there with Peter Quince. That role was my first real dream within a dream, the perfect closing chapter to my childhood as I stepped into the unknown of high school.

Another spark from those days was the tradition of watching the productions at our local arts high school. My elementary school theater teacher was married to the theater teacher at that very high school, and we always joked that our schools were “connected by marriage.” Every year, we would watch their plays and musicals, and every performance left me spellbound. I remember dreaming of the day it would be my turn to stand on that stage as a theater major in high school, carrying on that legacy.

Now, four years later, that dream has become reality. I am a senior in that very program, learning from my elementary school theater teacher’s husband, the same teacher whose productions I had once longed to perform in. To know that I have not only reached the dream I had as a child, but surpassed it with memories, skills, and friendships I couldn’t have imagined, fills me with a gratitude beyond words.

And then, just when the circle already felt complete, it happened: my teacher announced that our Grade 12 graduating play would be none other than A Midsummer Night’s Dream. For a moment, I thought I was dreaming again. But the feeling of déjà vu only deepened when the cast list was posted. I was cast, once again, as Peter Quince.

Four years apart, same role, same words but a completely different me. The actor I was at thirteen is not the actor I am at seventeen. Back then, Peter Quince was a challenge that scared me. Now, he is a character I can approach with tools I’ve built over years of training, rehearsals, and countless performances. Reading the same lines, discovering new layers, and performing with greater depth has shown me exactly how much I’ve grown, both as an actor and as a person. It is living proof of what theater school can do: it shapes you, it changes you, and it gives you a toolbox for life.

So here I am, in my senior year, about to close this chapter of my life the same way I closed the last one with Peter Quince. I am surrounded not just by classmates, but by a second family who have been my people over the past four years. Together, we get to bring this play within a play to life, weaving dreams into reality, laughter into memory. 

And maybe that’s the truest magic of theater. It shows you that life itself can be a midsummer night’s dream… fleeting, enchanting, and unforgettable.