Student Blog: Halfway to a BFA - Reflections from a Rising Junior

Two years ago I stretched my legs and stepped out of my family Prius, setting my Birkenstocks onto the burning tarmac in my new home away from home for the next 4 years - Chicago IL. It felt very similar to the pivotal line in Annie, "NYC, just got here this morning, three bucks, two bags, one me." Except in this scenario, it was three bucks, 10 bags, a Vicks steamer, 5 pairs of dance shoes, swollen eyes from crying in Whole Foods, and a mild case of carsickness.

My first year of college was invigorating. As an overachiever who had been homeschooled for 18 years, I was hungry for grades, homework, and tests. I implemented a strict early bedtime, and tried and failed at meal prepping. I had the added hurdle that I was not able to audition for the BFA program at my school until I had already arrived, so my first month was spent planning and preparing, and hoping that my college plans would stay on the track that I had pictured.

This level of uncertainty was terrifying and exciting. College is always going to be incredibly uncertain, from everchanging assigned living arrangements, rollercoaster friendships that ebb and flow throughout your years at school, changing majors, changing faculty, global pandemics, etc. Nothing is set so you just need to roll with it and enjoy every minute of the beautiful chaos.

I felt young and undeserving to be selected to work on projects, so I skipped many auditions that felt like a waste of time or a potential embarrassment to me. As time went on I realized that I had to start somewhere, and I would rather show growth than nothing at all, which led me into some of the most exciting projects of my college career, all from finally accepting that there was no such thing as a perfect product, so why keep waiting.

Second semester the homesickness set in, which didn't last for long. After a little over a month of being at school, we were sent home due to COVID-19. If you want to learn more about the joys of being an MT major in the midst of a global pandemic, you can read about mine here.

The biggest lesson I have learned at art school is that theatre and art will always persevere, no matter what curveballs get hit into left field. The week that my first production was set to open in November of my Freshman year, the day before opening night, on my way to class, I had a sickening substance thrown on me from a cup in the style of being slushied on Glee, leading into a chase scene across the streets of Chicago, which ended in me in hysterics on the floor of a Target, soaking wet, and panicked that I was going to have to miss Music Theory. The show must go on, so I threw my clothing into a burn pile, took a 3-hour shower, and marched my way to the theatre surrounded by a group of friends who vowed never to let me walk alone. The director led me through a yoga progression, and I opened the show that night more determined than ever.

A year and a half later I was standing in the same theatre, in an isolated Visqueen box, wearing a black velvet face mask adorned with safety clips and chains, performing a devised walk-through experience of the musical Cabaret (which was intended to be our fall musical). While this was not according to any of my plans, I had learned that I needed to roll with the punches, so I rolled up my thigh-high boots and got to work.

As I approach Junior year, I have no idea what lies in my path. I know what degree is going to be listed on my diploma, where I'm going to be living, and who my friends are, and I still wear Birkenstocks and drive a Prius, but that doesn't mean there aren't a million question marks that lie ahead of me. I would be lying if I said I wasn't anxious about what is to come, but if it's anything like the last two years, I'm in for a fantastic wild ride.

- Dylan Kerr

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