BWW Blog: Alyssa Sileo - GCIT 2016 Academy Awards: A Recount in Two Parts

A school year at Gloucester County Institute of Technology is more like a tumble. Somehow we muddle through the enormity of each event, emerging from it a little prouder, a little smarter, a little more appreciative. There's apexes tacked onto every month, among these being shows, Thespian Cabarets, and competitions. Anymore I envisage my mind as a scrapbook, with washi tape borders reading an event's name, the center of the page a sprawl of selfies, ticket stubs, and phrases the resound in the aesthetic of those hours.

Presenting: a new page for Alyssa's Brain Index, added May 27, 2016: with a blue border reading GCIT 2016 Academy Awards. The backing paper is an image of the Drama Class of 2016. There is a ridiculous amount of pictures with smolders, smiles, and photobombs. Sparkly letter stickers reading "slay," "I love you," "Thank you," and "For everything."

My school's Academy of Drama commemorates our months of production and honors the graduating class of Thespians on an evening in May called the Academy Awards (A masterful pun.) Channeling our inner Glam, the drama kids dress in suits and gowns of all kinds. As expected, our individual styles were imminent as we squealed with each star's arrival to the school's Commons area. There's nothing more empowering than fearless commitment to fashion; I think Drama class comes with a package deal of lessons in courage. (I was jonesing for some good 1920's couture. Naturally I wore a long black and red dress, a jeweled headband with my hair in a Roll & Tuck, Art Deco jewelry, as I listened to some sweet speakeasy tunes in the car, calling myself Muzzy van Hossmere.)

The Commons area is traditionally decorated according to the Senior class's preferences. The 2016 Academy Awards were shades of blue and white, the Senior class colors.. Mason Jars sat in the middle of the table, filled with Hershey kisses and a sparkly silver star reading "16." A different picture of the senior class throughout the years was pinned to each star.

In the flurry of photo snapping, dinner was served, prepared by students of our school's Culinary Academy. (It was as delicious as a wonderfully written play review. I ate about fifty million mini cheesecake bites.)
It was then time for the most hysterical, most anticipated segment of the night, as we made our way into the theatre--the senior skits and class awards. Freshmen, Sophomores, Juniors and Alumni practically screamed our throats into vocal rest during the senior opening number, which was, of course, a Beyoncé medley. Mottled with quips and GCIT inside jokes, the banter between audience, teacher, and onstage senior was frenzied and witty. Awards were presented in subsets of casts of each class's show and the school-wide musical--oftentimes in this arrangement "Best leading performer," "Best supporting performer," "Best cameo performance," and "Best Team Player." The house was a realm of nothing but love; at the announcement of each name, we erupted into a chorus of their name and applause. (This year I noticed the ample amount of ties. This filled me with so much joy and prolonged my ever-growing awe at my department's talent.)

In between the bestowals were skits put together by the teachers and the previous Thespian Troupe 5480's Public Relations Advisor Kelly. These were spoofs of the grief we put our teachers through but this was not without a reverse roast of the teachers by students. It's in these displays I'm reminded about these educators' undeniable goofiness but sincere love for their students. They are unafraid to teach us the realest lessons and it's in these promises that we become better artists and people. To walk into a classroom and feel indubitably safe is nothing short of a blessing.

Then a trifecta of tear-jerking traditions followed. There are three accolades that honor Seniors who have remarkably grown in their craft and their character: the Lifetime Achievement Award, The Golden Wrench Award, and the Sarah Fox Award. The second and last awards are given with a scholarship in the remembrance of two GCIT Drama alumni who have since passed away. In the words of one of our drama teacher, Miss Walsh, "In these awards, we do not commemorate the tragic way they died but the beautiful way they lived."
Next stop on the emotions-train was the Senior Interviews. Underclassmen and Juniors wrote questions for our friends and dropped them in a jar, and seniors videoed their answers. There were some silly queries ("How many people have you liked in your class?") among more sentimental ones ("When was the first time you felt like a family?")
A slideshow of their four years, set to "We're All in This Together," "Seasons of Love," and the class's song, "Home" by Phillip Phillips (such theatre kids), sent us into aww's and squeals at the sight of their freshman faces. Pictures from their class shows and musicals progressed to images that I recognized from their Junior year, which was my Freshmen year. These reminiscences are doubly impassioned: I'm already missing the Seniors, while simultaneously recalling how my short time as a GCIT Cheetah is ever shrinking. I cannot imagine the existence of a weekday without drama class, and I meet this scary reality with the resolve to continue reveling in the gift of my class and these next two years.
We proceeded to the Commons Area once again to have a final toast to the graduating class and to announce Thespian Troupe 5480's 2016-2017 Board and Extended Board. (I'm proud to say I am now a member of the Extended Board! Here's to a year of talented Thespian treasure and triumph in our endeavor to keep the arts alive.)
My favorite part of the night was the continuation of picture-taking, the earnest words, the tearful embraces, the beaming congratulations, and the grand looming of my Junior year that came into view as I put chairs up on tables during clean-up. I taped this year's program next to last year's program in a special spot on my wall I've dedicated to Academy Awards memories, and there's two spaces below these two papers for my Junior and Senior year.

Now, a prose poesy to the Drama Class and Thespian Troupe 5480 Graduating Class of 2016:
What a lofty framework you've set.
What an honor for your predecessors to encounter the defining moments of your young adulthood and young artistry.
It is seldom that friends become role models, but beautiful and strange things happen at GCIT, teenagers become red-carpet stars, Seniors call all collectively and concurrently become Beyoncé, and Fridays can turn into the image of gleaming love at the moment its memory is summoned in the mind, the abstract is made tangible in the this dramedy called high school. Senior class, your originality makes for unparalleled nights.
Thank you for honesty, thank you for luminescence, thank you for pranks and traditions. Enjoy senior trip, enjoy prom, enjoy gradation, enjoy college and bills and adult professionalism and taxes, you've taught me the apexes of months are made to be braved.
And here's the dramaturgy of your adolescence: the Play of "School" square cement walls can perform is riveting, but us Thespians understand and recognize the authentic driving force of the existence.
The structure of GCIT is you, you are GCIT and you are these four letters and four years of accomplishment, you are this communal possession that every Cheetah comes to realize, assume, and accept. These cement walls made monochromatic by the years have become a South Jersey scrapbook, chiseled with words of "victory," "discovery," "thank you" and "for everything," There are pictures of the moments you realized your power, Senior Class, and these are tableaus I could never possibly glue down, for these are active memories and events that will echo in the coming-of-age of all classes after you.
These school scrapbook walls are imitation containers of this playground we've been gifted as we tumble through the months, as we sing the song of solidarity, because I know for a fact I feel indubitably safe, and ready to make this place my home when I am not so sure.
How appropriate that we celebrate you now, Thespians of the Turning Year, for I believe all stage-activities are just parties praising the idea that we as humans may express ourselves in strange and sightly ways. You have built another stage. May we honor its first craftspeople; may we play our part well.