About twelve years ago, my father took me to see a production of Cinderella at DreamWrights. I was a small, awkward child, I’ll admit, but after seeing the live performance with its hilarity, its sincerity, its magic, I was enraptured. I auditioned for The Best Christmas Pageant Ever and managed to land a role. Success! I was excited beyond belief. I, the reticent child, would be a part of a stage performance!
Over the years, I and my acting ability grew. Though I never landed a “lead role,” Diane’s wise words always clung to my skin: “There are no small parts, only small actors.” Everyone was important. Everyone played a role. Without each actor, the show would not be the same. It couldn’t be executed without everyone’s effort. Every performance was a collaborative effort, and the cast was more than a team of actors: it was a group of friends, a close-knit family.
Under Diane’s warm and wise counsel, I never had a negative experience while within the walls of the old building. Though there were ghost stories about the building, and the rickety elevator was viewed as a death trap (which was problematic at times, as a group of young children, myself included, once got stuck on it), DreamWrights never disappointed me. I could live there, nestled in with the ball gowns and suits, the enormous puppets and the animal outfits.
I have, unfortunately, not been able to participate in anything DreamWrights-related for the past year and a half due to my college endeavors, but I still hold DreamWrights in a very special place in my heart. I cherish my memories and my happiness that blossomed there, on-stage and behind the black curtains. I have played minor roles, like little Nancy in The Best Christmas Pageant Ever and I have played larger roles, like the Duchess in Alice in Wonderland. I have worked with props and I have worked as a stage manager. I have laughed backstage through tight lips and clasped fingers as the show carries on, and I have cried with people of all ages at the strike parties. I have nothing but fond thoughts of DreamWrights, and I deeply regret not participating in the theater as much as I could have in the past.
DreamWrights, holder of my heart, nurturer of my strength, friend of my soul, you are a beacon. You foster hope, love, resilience, endurance, well-roundedness, but above all, you foster fun.
Though I have not been involved in DreamWrights since Alice in Wonderland, I would like to thank everyone who has ever participated, who currently is participating, and who will ever participate in a DreamWrights production, be it on-stage, behind the scenes, out front, upstairs, or in the kitchen. Diane called DreamWrights a “big fun machine,” and as usual, I could never say it any better than that.
Keep thriving, DreamWrights. I hope to see you in action till the end of days.