I'm the youngest of 12 cousins.
And now, I'm the youngest in a world composed of 40- somethings with cute new babies and 9-5 jobs.
I grew up with older cousins barring me from the jets skis because "I was too young," or watching Chuckie without me because I wasn't old enough (I still peaked into the basement while it was playing- and yeah it scarred me for life.) One of my earliest memories is standing outside of the Star Wars ride at Disney eating a Pocahontas ice cream cone and crying because I was too little to fit into the seats.
And I fucking love Star Wars.
There are many things that I am grateful for that came out of such a youthood. I grow up with an innate sense of ambition and drive- however, along with all these benefits you also grow up with a constant record player in your head telling you "you don't deserve this, you don't deserve this."
I can't tell you how often and how relentless that little voice can be.
Standing next to people in auditions twice your age, twice your experience level, and three times your confidence.
Suddenly you're back in your cousin's basement, watching everyone else take shots, and you can only sit back and watch and promise not to tell mom & dad.
I was inspired to write about this because I seem to find myself once again the youngest of a lot of barrels. My two man improv team Nice Guys performs at Back Room Comedy and Upstairs Gallery, and also happen to always be the youngest in the room with both of us still in college. How to Lose Your Job and Alienate Friends is in its second week of it's run at the Public House Theater (where I'm also and ensemble member), and yes, you've guessed it, I am the child of both those banana bunches. And my sketch group is about to put up a live show in November, which will also be a one year anniversary of when I had my first legal drink.
Oh, while also making sure I'm taking all the classes I need to graduate and small stuff like that.
You see, us young kids operate on a different frequency than our older counterparts. And you can see it in shows, and in the choices we make- We're testing boundaries. We're learning at a top light speed. We take huge swings, and some are fantastic misses. We'll fail big, but then we'll do a sketch or a scene that you've never thought possible.
You can look at anyone's career in theater or what have you and track that learning curve. You're first a sponge for knowledge and experience before you can stand on your own two feet and present the way you see the world and like to play with others.
With every turn of the wheel, that chorus of "you don't deserve this, you don't deserve this" tinkers in the back of your mind, but it gets quieter and quieter the more you work. The more you pump those legs of yours, and the more you test those boundaries and limits.
I know what I am most thankful for is such a supportive community and the wonderful people I know that let me fail and find myself. Like an awkward teenager that has to grow up in front of everyone, lots of people have seen me succeed as well as fail, but it's great to see hands and smiles when I fall instead of jeers and jokes. After all, my cousins were never THAT mean.
So if you're reading this and too, find yourself a little fish in a big pond, be patient, and work your ass off. Good things will come, and just enjoy getting better and learning- time is on your side and you get stronger every time you take those huge swings, hit or miss.
Life is a buffet- try everything, find what you love, and then keep doing it. Don't practice until you get it right, practice until you can't get it wrong.
And one day you will be the King of the Jungle.
