During the last few years, I’ve finally quit making bold “I-can’t” statements like I can’t make a living in sales, I can’t speak in public, or I can’t act. For a shy, quiet girl, it wasn’t easy. When I became a writer, I debunked the first two statements because I had to pitch my books and give public presentations, and I discovered that I enjoyed it. Acting remained on my I-can’t list until I saw a notice about free acting classes. Since life is short and risk-taking is good for the soul, I decided to try it. But the demon voice kept yapping: “What makes you think you can do this? Are you crazy? You’re going to make a fool of yourself. Your brain’s not wired to memorize a bunch of lines. Why is this important to you anyway?”
           Well, who doesn’t dream about being on stage, screen, or TV? Who doesn’t fantasize their Academy, Emmy, or Tony acceptance speech? But, the voice screamed louder: “You’ve never done this before!”

           Not true. I actually made my first stage-appearance in the third grade when our teacher, Mrs. Nemec, assigned me to be the angel in our class’ Christmas nativity play. Or was it Dickens’s The Christmas Carol? It’s jumbled in my mind because I remember one student playing Scrooge and two others playing Mary and Joseph. Maybe Mrs. Nemec, in a moment of dramatic creativity, combined the two. It’s not important. When she called out names and assigned roles, I had hoped to play Mary, of course, but I was happy to settle for the Christmas angel, who had a significant role. If you don’t believe me, look at your nativity scene or think of those live nativity scenes you see during the holidays. If the Christmas angel hadn’t delivered that all-important message, the manger wouldn’t have had those wonderful shepherds and cute little sheep.

           Angel Kathleen had two lines: “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people.” The message was delivered per Luke, “in the darkness of the night.” And those shepherds and their sheep heeded and headed off in search of a wondrous miracle. If they could muster up the courage to do something scary, so could I. I was terrified, but I pulled it off.
           And I also performed during a Junior Catholic Daughters of America (CDA) meeting. For some reason, we decided to put on an impromptu Beverly Hillbillies play—I was Elly May. I can’t pull up why we put on a play, but I imagine the mom-sponsors didn’t have anything else for us to do, so the play resulted. I think I had one line, but I don’t remember what it was. I don’t think there was even a script. My part involved a dog I was supposed to pick up and hold. Other than that, I don’t recall much. So, I welcome any past members of the Junior CDA to set the record straight on this.
           Then the role of a prostitute came along when I was in college. My Spanish teacher, who was also a writer and actor, wrote a play to be staged in one of the local theatres. He encouraged his students to try out. No way would I do this, I thought. Not only because it terrified me, but the play was in Spanish—a double, fool-making whammy. But, I planned to attend the play for extra credit. On the night of the performance, my somewhat flighty teacher decided to rewrite the ending, requiring two more actors. As best I can tell, the play was about a cheating husband. The final scene took place in his office when his wife came to confront him. He’d just convinced her of his faithfulness when another prostitute and I walked in.
           Before the play had begun, our teacher pulled another girl and me from the audience, took us backstage, and told us to put on gaudy make-up. He draped a couple of boas around our necks and pushed us on stage. After seeing the prostitutes, the wife slugged her cheating, lying husband. Play over; curtain closed.
           I never got a chance to take the aforementioned classes because they were COVID-ed. But it’s on my to-do list. Now that the isolation-situation is easing, I started calling about other classes. Then that goddamn demon said, “Why bother? No one will answer the phone.” I hope he’s wrong.