Seventeen

To whom it may concern, 

I’m that one person who dropped out two years in a row within the first month. I wish I could put into words the amount of shame and self-loathing that particular narrative brought me until I was able to work it the hell out in therapy. The feeling when you get a second chance and then screw it up for yourself once again. I mean, I made the big move to the big city. Told all my friends that I was going to achieve my dreams at a Broadway affiliated conservatory, hosted two going away parties in my hometown only for these people to see on Facebook two months later, “Oh hey guys, I’m back in Texas… again.”

Yeah. That’s a set up for a lot of inner shame, right? Hmmmm…. I would have to agree based on that information alone but I think we should explore the HELLSTORM that is the tiny basement below the prestigious Broadway stage.

My first attempt at Circle in the Square

I was absolutely elated to be accepted into the musical theatre program. I moved away from my hometown in Texas only two weeks prior to acclimate to the fast-paced culture that is New York City. I'd experienced chronic depression since I was 18 but it was in check, I was in a good head space.

After the first few days of classes, I left school each day feeling a new level of fatigue that can be best described as feeling as though I had been hit by a bus. I mean, back to back classes with no lunch break kind of shocked me but hey, if you can’t hang, you can’t hang. “Only the brightest and most dedicated will survive! Only the most talented!” This lie is fed to you from day one. I remember Whitney Kaufman dishing this out during orientation.

I began to question my talent, efficacy as an adult, and dedication.

I attempted suicide in my tiny apartment in Washington Heights three weeks into school and dropped out.

My second attempt at Circle in the Square

I was contacted by E. Colin O’Leary and offered a second chance. I took it without hesitation. Afterall, it was all my fault for being such a shitty person who clearly wasn’t dedicated or talented enough to succeed in my first try. I am so lucky!

This was the year I faced physical abuse, teachers enabling my eating disorder, and gaslighting (Alan Langdon).

My previous classmates who were now in their second year greeted me with open arms and concern for my previous incident. I felt loved and welcomed by them.

One of my classmates had calculated the fact that year one consisted of 61hrs a week… 61hrs a week… no lunch breaks.

Incident One

Alan Langdon is known to be cold, distant, condescending, etc.…. BUT ALL IN THE NAME OF ART! Bullshit. I wanted so badly to be liked by him. We did the Harold Pinter crap again, I slept with that script, read it on the train, and clutched it to my chest between classes. I just couldn’t memorize it. My entire class performed their scene and none of us recited it perfectly.

Alan went on a tangent about how we were clearly not dedicated or capable enough. His son memorized a five minute monologue in one night in order to play a role in a regional musical… How disappointing we all were.

This is how I felt in every one of his sessions. Inadequate, untalented, and clearly not intelligent enough to be as GREAT as one of his favorite cis-white male students. How the hell am I supposed to feel safe around him?

Incident Two (CW: EATING DISORDER)

This was the year I dropped out due to my eating disorder. I had several staff members commenting on my body because I’d lost weight.

This would be a good time to remind you: 61hrs/week, NO LUNCH BREAKS

I was in speech class, recording my list of words. On my way out, Elizabeth Loughran grabbed my arm. “You look wonderful. Whatever you’re doing…” massive pause “It’s working.” I ham it up and say “omg, I discovered working out!”

Little did she know that I was walking from 51st street to my 106th st apartment each day and taking advantage of the lack of lunch breaks.

I’ll leave this to you to realize how incredibly problematic this is. She’d seen me a year prior but now that I’m in a smaller body, “I look wonderful.”

Incident Three (CW: Sexual/Physical Abuse)

Workshop was a class that was added between my 1st and 2nd try. We were told that we would have working actors who are active in the industry to guide us through scene work. Kevin McGuire was the prestigious white cis-male guest who graced our presence the first semester. E. Colin O’Leary and Whitney Kaufman helped us select two person scenes from specific plays. I initially chose You and I which features important discussions about race and ableism. I paired up with a Latinx classmate and we were excited to get started. Colin told us we couldn’t do this scene. No reason given. Whitney piped up saying we should instead do 27 Wagons Full of Cotton by Tennessee Williams. I would like to point out that this scene features a POC victimizing a white woman.

In rehearsals, I skipped over the “N” word. As a white person, it is not my word to say. I was called out by Whitney and asked to repeat the word over and over until I felt comfortable with it.

I was later told how shocked my classmates were. I was shocked as well.

This scene alludes to rape. Having been raped the previous year and not having any other option but to do this scene, I was internally freaking out and my performance in front of Kevin McGuire showed it.

“You’re like a… fake actor.” Kevin said after we finished the emotionally exhausting scene.

“You need to be rougher with her.” Kevin then told my kindhearted scene partner, “She’s larger than you and you need to assert your aggression. Don’t give her the choice to overtake you.”

We ran the scene again. Kevin instructed my scene partner to grip me harder… and harder… and harder. I physically felt as though I needed to be smaller and smaller and smaller in order to portray this dainty woman that I clearly wasn’t portraying being the LARGER scene partner. I left that class with bruises on my wrist from my scene partner being pressured into literally abusing me. Since I was such a fake actor and all, I guess it was worth it.

(Edit: I don’t actually believe it was worth it.)

Conclusion

I am grateful to my mother who called and told me to get help in my second year after seeing a picture on instagram where my eyes were sunken in and my face hollow. Here, I thought I looked “wonderful.” Why was someone thousands of miles away the first one to say anything?Is this the kind of place we’re supposed to feel safe? I have to acknowledge, I would not have gotten a second chance to attend if I weren’t white and straight passing.

I have nightmares to this day of my experience in New York City. I felt sick the last time I visited because of the mindset I was put in with 61 hrs/week and no lunch breaks and I only attended a month total.

I have been in recovery from my eating disorder since I dropped out my second time. I remember sending an email to Colin about my decision to leave again. I never received a response… I would have died had I been one of the “dedicated and talented” students.

Guess what, Circle. I AM in fact dedicated and talented. It’s actually YOUR program that is not a reasonable or a humane way of training some of the brightest actors that you’ve had the PLEASURE to see walk through your doors.

Sincerely,
Haley Boswell ‘20