On May16, 2011, the University of Pennsylvania's graduating class had the honor (yes, honor) of having Denzel Washington deliver the Commencement Speech. Despite opening his speech with references to the Men's Basketball team and head coach Jerome Allen, the central message was all about falling forward. You see, Denzel Washington revealed that he has never liked the idea of having a "fall-back plan" in terms of pursuing a career. This was not news to me however, as I heard him explain these exact sentiments in an interview years before--and it was actually what I referenced when breaking the news to my mom that I was going to be a Theatre Arts major once enrolled at Penn.I remember the exact moment when I realized that I wanted to pursue theatre as my profession.
I was eleven.
I was standing in my kitchen on what had to have been a weekend morning because my mom was cooking a full breakfast.
On tv she had on one of those generic programs that only comes on non-cable, basic television. It was my typical behavior to just ignore whatever my mother had on the tv, but for some odd reason that day I was mildly paying attention. On the screen was a middle-aged black man talking about his career. I think he must have been somewhat successful and well respected in his field--for he was on national television speaking about it. Nonetheless, it was more likely than not that I was only in the kitchen to see if my mom had been making bacon--and then to steal a piece. But as I stood there in the kitchen, all of a sudden this man said something that I still value this day nearly ten years later. He said,
"Your profession should be your passion. And if you do not know what your passion is; it is the one thing that you would do for the rest of your life regardless of pay."
Initially, I think I was stumped. But after some thought, it kind of just hit me: performing arts, acting, theatre! Now... when I think about it, I am slightly confused by my own epiphany because I never really had much success in the field up until that point or even knew much about it to say the least. I had never been that Theatre Dork who knew the entire soundtrack of Les Miserables or Phantom of the Opera since infancy. I was never that kid who always got the coveted solo in glee club or chorale. I was never that kid who was cast in all the lead roles in the school plays. In fact, I was the exact opposite of those kids. I never even heard of Les Mis until mid high school, I can't think of a single legitimate solo Joan Testin gave me in choir, and I definitely was never cast as the lead role in a play or musical. I think my largest role at the time had been "Lady in Waiting #3." And yet, I just had this strange confidence that I was going to be a part of this world.
My first great experience with the theatre, the moment I fell in love with it, was not during a time when I was onstage performing. I fell in love with the theatre while sitting as a spectator in the audience. It was in the front row, center, of the mezzanine level at the Broadway theater that was showing The Lion King at the time. I was literally at the edge of my seat, peering over the rail since the moment the curtain was lifted. Julie Taymor had successfully transformed human actors into giraffes, lions, meerkats, hyenas, and many other animals. But it was one particular moment that had me sold, the moment when it all changed for me (*dramatic pause*). A young Simba went to the lip of the water, and as he looked into it he saw the reflection of his father Mufasa. Easily portray in a cartoon, but the fact that they were able to pull this off on an actual stage, in front of a live audience--Blew my Mind! I had butterflies in my stomach, my heart dropped, I was feeling a mix of emotions: anxiousness and excitement and nervousness and joy--it was indescribable, it was incredible. Nevertheless, I knew; those indescribable mix of emotions that I was feeling, I wanted to one day be responsible for evoking those same feelings in another.
Theatre Arts, I told my mother. I was going to major in Theatre Arts at the University of Pennsylvania. I wanted to pursue this degree so that I could go on one day to perform professionally and teach at the college level.
"So what's your fall back plan?" she asked.
"HUH?" was my response.
"You know, your plan B."
I was extremely confused by this notion of a "Plan B" because it was like she was implying that Plan A (or the only plan that I had thought to establish) was not going to happen. It was as if my Dream were a chair that I had blindly began to sit down on, and Reality was the rude little prankster that pulled the chair up from under me--she wanted to know what I had in store to fall back on, what "plan" would help to cushion the blow of landing flat on my butt.
I didn't have one, and to this day I still do not have a fall back plan. I find it very hard to put any effort or energy into establishing a Plan B, when I can be utilizing that for the master plan. Denzel said that he would rather fall forward, that way he can at least see where it is he is going to land--and he rather it be flat on his face. I say; fall freely. Have the confidence in yourself to put everything you got into that leap, and trust that you will land somewhere between your passion (everything you could ever want) and your fate (everything you need). As the end of my college career begins to creep up on me, I am afraid that my dream may not become my reality. But I am more afraid of a reality that consists of maintaining a career that I am not truly and fully passionate about. So despite the statistics of the amount of people that make it in The Biz, despite the countless head tilts and "Oh that's interesting" responses I receive when announcing my major, despite being at a prestigious and extremely competitive ivy league institution where students rather follow the paper vs their passion, and despite my fear of failing,
I'm free falling baby.
