Just for a bit of background, I plan to study engineering in college. I wanted to differentiate myself from other applicants, so I decided to write about my experiences with theater and how that affected my throughout my high school years. Thank you in advance to anyone who replies!
Speaking to a gym full of mostly clock-watching parents was not what I expected to be doing on this school night. I had other plans, but fate seemed to lead me here. Beads of sweat rolled down my forehead that humid evening as I stood in the dimly lit backstage bathroom, quickly rehearsing my lines. I paced back and forth, sloshing through the thin layer of water still on the floor from an overflowing sink. The odor of cheap soap filled the air as the rustling of other speakers interrupted much-needed concentration. I slowly elbowed open the cold steel door to an appointment filled with stress, tears, and passion. My slot had arrived. Let's do this, unexpectedly, one last time.
Eight years prior, I was introduced by a teacher to the concept of theatrics. She said that I was and always would be a dramatist at heart, that school was not only somewhere to learn math and science, but the place to practice my verbal craft - at least for two months per year. She coached me on the basics: the simple rolling of the tongue and even the semi-humorous gestures that would engage the audience - but more importantly, the judges. She taught me that the stage was the perfect medium for self-expression.
I thrived on the stage. It was a jungle to be tamed, a syringe of adrenaline to be enjoyed; it was a place of survival of the fittest, to be studied, dissected, and written about while simultaneously providing a sense of camaraderie to those who attempt to master it. I would often gab with my fellow performers backstage before practice, critiquing and often collaborating on a performance.
Now a last-minute, freshman year, encore, gap-filling performance had led to enlightenment. Prior to this, I participated (and occasionally won) my elementary school's annual elocution contest, a competition to encourage public speaking through the recitation of popular poetry. My parents preferred to call it an "electrocution contest" since participants often ended up silent with the shock of stage fright as they forgot the well-worn lines of Shakespeare or Ken Nisbet. I was not immune, but unlike my competitors, the lines ultimately mattered little to me. Now, removed from elementary school but on the same stage, I had discovered that what I loved was the accidental nature of the stage, the whimsical engineering of the performance, incorporating the unplanned, like a prop falling or a light going out. Obsessing for hours on which word to emphasize or deciding which props to bring on stage, while all a part of the creative process, ultimately gave way to writing my work, and making my presentation, relishing those random elements, uniquely my own.
At this point, you're probably thinking, "Is he going to be a theater major?"
No, I want to use my talents in a different jungle. As further ventured into high school, I used these soft skills of collaboration, creativity, and determination to work towards a better future for my school and community. I want to bring order to the disorder, understand the nuances, make the minor adjustments, leverage the unplanned, think outside the box, and, with the aid of math and physics, work with others to make the world a little better for us all.
I still am a quite the dramatist.
I love public speaking.
I genuinely enjoy meeting new people and having new experiences.
I want to be an innovator and problem solver.
I was named after Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible.
I am Ethan Hunt.
The influence of theater on my education
Speaking to a gym full of mostly clock-watching parents was not what I expected to be doing on this school night. I had other plans, but fate seemed to lead me here. Beads of sweat rolled down my forehead that humid evening as I stood in the dimly lit backstage bathroom, quickly rehearsing my lines. I paced back and forth, sloshing through the thin layer of water still on the floor from an overflowing sink. The odor of cheap soap filled the air as the rustling of other speakers interrupted much-needed concentration. I slowly elbowed open the cold steel door to an appointment filled with stress, tears, and passion. My slot had arrived. Let's do this, unexpectedly, one last time.
Eight years prior, I was introduced by a teacher to the concept of theatrics. She said that I was and always would be a dramatist at heart, that school was not only somewhere to learn math and science, but the place to practice my verbal craft - at least for two months per year. She coached me on the basics: the simple rolling of the tongue and even the semi-humorous gestures that would engage the audience - but more importantly, the judges. She taught me that the stage was the perfect medium for self-expression.
I thrived on the stage. It was a jungle to be tamed, a syringe of adrenaline to be enjoyed; it was a place of survival of the fittest, to be studied, dissected, and written about while simultaneously providing a sense of camaraderie to those who attempt to master it. I would often gab with my fellow performers backstage before practice, critiquing and often collaborating on a performance.
Now a last-minute, freshman year, encore, gap-filling performance had led to enlightenment. Prior to this, I participated (and occasionally won) my elementary school's annual elocution contest, a competition to encourage public speaking through the recitation of popular poetry. My parents preferred to call it an "electrocution contest" since participants often ended up silent with the shock of stage fright as they forgot the well-worn lines of Shakespeare or Ken Nisbet. I was not immune, but unlike my competitors, the lines ultimately mattered little to me. Now, removed from elementary school but on the same stage, I had discovered that what I loved was the accidental nature of the stage, the whimsical engineering of the performance, incorporating the unplanned, like a prop falling or a light going out. Obsessing for hours on which word to emphasize or deciding which props to bring on stage, while all a part of the creative process, ultimately gave way to writing my work, and making my presentation, relishing those random elements, uniquely my own.
At this point, you're probably thinking, "Is he going to be a theater major?"
No, I want to use my talents in a different jungle. As further ventured into high school, I used these soft skills of collaboration, creativity, and determination to work towards a better future for my school and community. I want to bring order to the disorder, understand the nuances, make the minor adjustments, leverage the unplanned, think outside the box, and, with the aid of math and physics, work with others to make the world a little better for us all.
I still am a quite the dramatist.
I love public speaking.
I genuinely enjoy meeting new people and having new experiences.
I want to be an innovator and problem solver.
I was named after Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible.
I am Ethan Hunt.
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