I always wanted to be an actor.
When I was eight years old, I figured out that acting was that thing I could do and fail at and not care.
Not like sports.
When I failed at sports, I cared. I cared because I knew I would always fail at sports, and it made me feel like I was less than what I should be. When I failed at acting, I felt like I was progressing even within the failure. I felt like I was on the way to something.
At age eight, a teacher gave me a lead role. I was a kid who wouldn't shut up, and maybe she realized that putting me onstage was a great way to channel all that talking into actual speaking.
It was the first time anybody looked proud of me. I'm sure people said they were proud of me before, but that was the first time I ever remember anybody looking proud of me.
And that was that.
The funny thing is, ever since I became an actor, everyone always seems to want to make me something else.
I realize it's the nature of the love, but the discouragement towards acting started so soon after I fell in love with acting.
The teacher I had the following year specifically gave me the smallest part in the school play--to teach me humility, I suppose. I was humbled all right. I had finally thought I was good at something, and here was somebody telling me I wasn't.
It took a few years to bounce back from that, but by the time I got to high school, I knew where I needed to go.
I was lucky to have teachers who saw my strengths as a performer early on. No, I wasn't the handsome ingenue, but I could nail any joke you gave me. Unfortunately, character actors don't work much when they're sixteen.
Since then, things have always been bumpy, but these past two years in particular have been the hardest.
In one sense, I've been blessed because I've had people show incredible support for my writing, for me as a producer and director, and for someone with ideas.
On the other hand, so many people use this as an excuse to try and convince me to quit acting.
"Look at everything else you can do. Who needs another actor in the world?"
Sometimes it feels like karma. I remember hearing about a television actress who quit her job on a popular show to go tour with her little-known band.
I remember saying--"Why doesn't she stick with the job that she's actually good at?"
I didn't respect the fact that she was following her passion, and I feel bad about that. It's nice if what you love to do is what people are begging you to do, but it doesn't always pan out that way.
Recently, it became clear to me that though I enjoy writing and other aspects of theatre, I've let my passion for acting get beaten down by other people's opinions.
So now I have to refocus on that. I'm not entirely sure what that means, but I thought this might be a chance for discussion:
What did you want to be and is that who you ended up being?
Right now, I don't think if someone mentioned me they'd say--"Kevin, the actor."
Maybe that's the goal. That little comma, space, phrase.
Maybe once I get that--I'll be back to who I wanted to be.
When I was eight years old, I figured out that acting was that thing I could do and fail at and not care.
Not like sports.
When I failed at sports, I cared. I cared because I knew I would always fail at sports, and it made me feel like I was less than what I should be. When I failed at acting, I felt like I was progressing even within the failure. I felt like I was on the way to something.
At age eight, a teacher gave me a lead role. I was a kid who wouldn't shut up, and maybe she realized that putting me onstage was a great way to channel all that talking into actual speaking.
It was the first time anybody looked proud of me. I'm sure people said they were proud of me before, but that was the first time I ever remember anybody looking proud of me.
And that was that.
The funny thing is, ever since I became an actor, everyone always seems to want to make me something else.
I realize it's the nature of the love, but the discouragement towards acting started so soon after I fell in love with acting.
The teacher I had the following year specifically gave me the smallest part in the school play--to teach me humility, I suppose. I was humbled all right. I had finally thought I was good at something, and here was somebody telling me I wasn't.
It took a few years to bounce back from that, but by the time I got to high school, I knew where I needed to go.
I was lucky to have teachers who saw my strengths as a performer early on. No, I wasn't the handsome ingenue, but I could nail any joke you gave me. Unfortunately, character actors don't work much when they're sixteen.
Since then, things have always been bumpy, but these past two years in particular have been the hardest.
In one sense, I've been blessed because I've had people show incredible support for my writing, for me as a producer and director, and for someone with ideas.
On the other hand, so many people use this as an excuse to try and convince me to quit acting.
"Look at everything else you can do. Who needs another actor in the world?"
Sometimes it feels like karma. I remember hearing about a television actress who quit her job on a popular show to go tour with her little-known band.
I remember saying--"Why doesn't she stick with the job that she's actually good at?"
I didn't respect the fact that she was following her passion, and I feel bad about that. It's nice if what you love to do is what people are begging you to do, but it doesn't always pan out that way.
Recently, it became clear to me that though I enjoy writing and other aspects of theatre, I've let my passion for acting get beaten down by other people's opinions.
So now I have to refocus on that. I'm not entirely sure what that means, but I thought this might be a chance for discussion:
What did you want to be and is that who you ended up being?
Right now, I don't think if someone mentioned me they'd say--"Kevin, the actor."
Maybe that's the goal. That little comma, space, phrase.
Maybe once I get that--I'll be back to who I wanted to be.
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