Student Blog: What College Looks Like as an Ex-Performer

My name is Annabelle Dilts, and I am a retired theater kid with a penchant for journalism, a passion for fine arts, and in pursuit of the nearest local coffee shop. This is the headline I use, more or less, for everything. From Linktree to LinkedIn, I copy and paste my blurb and wait for the notification that somebody viewed my profile.

About 90% of that is true. Yes, I love to write. Yes, I love the arts. And, yes, most of all, I love anything caffeinated. But there's something about my opening sentence that feels wrong everytime I reread it.

As I stated earlier, my name is Annabelle Dilts. I am a freshman honors Journalism Strategic Communication and Interdisciplinary Arts student at Ohio University (try saying that five times fast). I am from the Northern Kentucky and Greater Cincinnati area, and I am the proud owner of Bloch Balance Lisse pointe shoes, Jason Samuel Smith taps, and the Alexis 2.5 inch Laduca heel. 

My theater journey began at the ripe age of six months, where I starred in my church's Christmas pageant as Baby Jesus. Three years later, I put on my first baby ballet slippers and Mary Jane tap shoes and started dance classes. Five years later, I was cast in my elementary school's production of Willy Wonka Kids!, and since then, I hadn't left the stage: until the end of my senior year of high school.

I concluded my theatrical career three seperate times: is that even possible? The answer is yes. I stepped off my high school's stage in March of 2024 after playing the Fairy Godmother in Cinderella. Three months later, I performed in my last dance recital. One month later, I closed Rent after assistant choreographing and dance captaining it with my summer theater, CAST. Three different books closed, and while I was expecting to hear a funeral march, I couldn't help myself from singing the beginning of "No One Mourns The Wicked", which, if you are somehow unfamiliar, opens with "Good news! She's dead!"

Yes, I celebrated as the curtains closed on my performance career. No, that does not make sense. But it's not for the reasons you think.

I had an amazing theatrical career. While there were roles I wished were mine, songs I wanted to sing, and dances I couldn't perform, I think theater might have been my first love. Theater or Jeremy Jordan. I knew as I began my last season, however, that I was ready to let go and begin a new chapter pursuing fine arts.

As a journalism student, I write. A lot. I write like I'm running out of time. More often than not, I do run out of time. My mind moves miles a minute, and my fingers can only type so briskly. I document and I attract; I chase and I observe. I like to use my writing as a distraction, in the same way I used dancing, or mix-belting, or monologue-ing. Is that a word?

I watched the curtains open on my first semester at Ohio University with eyes wide open, anticipating everything and nothing at the same time. I knew I was pursuing journalism and public relations, but I was still unsure on how I would connect fine arts with my degree, or if it was even possible. Once I discovered the Interdisciplinary Arts program at OU, I quickly declared a minor and signed up for the first arts class I could find. Alongside the E.W Scripps School of Journalism, it has been nothing less than a dream to merge my two worlds together, and get a degree from it.

For most, it can be unsettling deciding what your future entails. There's only so far ahead you can think of, and only so many variables you can identify. But with passion, drive, and an original cast recording on repeat, you can live in the moment while still thinking about what's next.

I say everywhere that I'm a retired theater kid, but I'm not so sure that's true. I still sneak into the practice rooms to sing or play piano, and I jump into any and every open dance studio. I listen to The Notebook way more than the average person, and I send The Outsiders news to my theater friends.

I consume live theater. I love seeing shows at the Aronoff Center in downtown Cincinnati, and I watch rehearsal bootlegs my BFA besties send me. I surround myself with song and dance, and even my professors and sorority sisters tell me they sense my "theater kid aura".

Can you retire a part of you that's been so steadfast? Is it possible to leave behind something that has carried you through it all: the breakups and the callback lists, the grief and that one Broadway show closing, the failed exams and failed friendships. Musical theater and the performing arts have always been a constant in everything I have ever done, so why would I leave it?

You don't have to leave that part of you behind. You don't need to retire. You can be thirteen listening to Hamilton in pre-English, or 93 listening to Hadestown with your extended family, and telling them the Reeve Carney and Eva Noblezada lore.

Find a practice room. Play a major chord. Pull out a triple pirouette and a tilt kick, and remember that if you've planted your roots somewhere as culturally rich as Times Square, that's where they'll bloom. You're a Broadway Baby through and through.