Overcoming
H(Sav)annah
There it was—literally in black and white: my name. I
scanned the other black scribbles to see who my new family would be for the
next months of my life—they were all Seniors—and I was the only Sophomore. Great, they’re going to love me… Even my
thoughts had a sour taste of sarcasm. I desperately scanned once more pleading
with the paper to have a least one more familiar name, but when the crisp,
mid-December breeze reminded me of the lateness of the evening as Jack Frost
was clearly “nipping at [my] nose” I was brought back to what my new reality
was. No matter how many times I would check my name wouldn’t change so I skated
my way over the slick cement to the heated oasis of my family’s average Utah
mini-van.
“Well, I’m Hannah
Ferguson!” I excitedly shared, not realizing the true honor it was.
“Hey hey!!” Dad beamed at me as if I had already won my
first Tony Award, “Don’t you know how great that is?!”
“Kinda, I mean I’m the only sophomore in the cast so
that’s really cool. I just don’t really know who Hannah is!” I was on the verge
of sounding ungrateful so I quickly added, “But I’m so excited to find out! Do
you know who Hannah is?”
“Oh I dunno, only the leading role practically!” He
continued to beam as if he could see me collecting my awards now.
The leading role? As a sophomore? The
Only sophomore? OH no… The seniors are going to have my head for this… My
thoughts of worry and dread must have shown so much I might as well have been a
clown with the giant frown of its face.
“That’s just great,” I mumbled hoping my father’s
superman hearing was deactivated for the night.
“What was that? Do you not think this is great?!” clearly
it was active.
“Dad, of course I’m excited! I’m just the only Sophomore and it’s only a cast of
six. They’re going to hate me!” my true fear was out and my dad clearly did not
appreciate its child-like attitude.
“Did you not work hard? Did you give it your all? Do you
have the talent to perform this role?” All of this questions rang true as I
remembered the hours spent to searching, rehearsing, and performing those mere
30 seconds of words and 16 bars of music.
“Yes, but—“
“No but’s!” My father interrupted, “You are going to do
this and you’re gonna rock it! I know it. Now, let’s go tell your mom.”
Mom was just as thrilled as dad was and with her warm
embrace I could feel the chill of my fear wash away like spring’s thawing of
winter. I could do this, they’re right I
have worked hard. I’ve worked so hard for this! My excitement started to
grow as leaned on the potential my parents saw shining through me. After all, I
had just received a leading role as a Sophomore I must have been somewhat
talented.
. . .
"STOP!
Try it again!" This had been going on for hours, Mr. Randall looked at me
as if I had destroyed his most prized possession a thousand times.
"People. We open in two weeks, I can't let this cast perform if Ms. Hess
cannot portray this correctly then Megan will have to perform in both casts.”
No!
This was my role, I
thought as the blaring lights highlighted my blush more than I was comfortable
with I
can do this, I just need more time... ha more time, I've got two weeks. Rehearsals had followed the same pattern for
what felt like years, aging me, and my confidence was wearing thin. Each run I
would progressively receive cutting notes—more than anyone else in the two
casts. I knew my lines more than I knew what I was mastering in math, my songs
more than I knew my childhood best friend, but those were not what was holding
my progression back. It was my youth—who knew being 16 would be such a bad
thing I thought as I left rehearsal every night.
"Mr.
Randall, I can do this! Just tell me what more you want, I don't know what you
want!" My pleading voice struck something in him, and I wasn't sure if I
liked it.
"I
need you to be 72 not 16. We've talked about Hannah, you know her.
Now, be her.
When you walk on that stage do you know what I see? I see Savannah Hess, not
Hannah Ferguson, and if I see Savannah one more time then Megan will be playing
both casts. Do you understand?" With his beady blue eyes piercing into my
already weak self-esteem I did understand.
"Yes,
I understand." with my voice cracking I knew I was heading into a
dangerous road, "You'll never see Savannah again, I promise. May I excuse
myself for a moment?" With his approval I ran off the newly painted scene
and to the only place I knew Mr. Randall wouldn't find me: the seminary
building across the street.
I
had often found refuge in this warm, red brick building, but the real refuge
was in the giant arms of my dad. As I entered his office the tears were already
past my cheeks and down my neck. My green eyes glistened with sadness as I sat
in the best seat in the world, next to my papa.
"Vannah!
What's wrong? I thought you were at rehearsal." His voice was knowing as
he inquired why I was clearly not where I was meant to be.
"Dad,
I can't do this anymore. He wants me to be 72 when I'm only 16! I don't know
how to be old!" I often vented to my dad but this was a whole new load I
was carrying.
"Oh
sweet girl" my dad's soothing tone enveloped me as his arms wrapped around
me, "you don't have to know how to be old, you just need to know how to be
Hannah. How are you going to be Hannah?"
"I
don't know what you mean!" I sniffled as the tears continued to travel
down my soaking face, "She's a grouch and I don't know how to be a
grouch!"
"You're
missing the point!" a new sharpness entered into his voice, "What's
her story, why is she a grouch?!"
"...
She's hurt." a new realization entered into my heart. The tears stopped
and a new warmth filled my heart. I kissed my dad’s shiny head and off I went.
As I entered the stage
the once blaring lights took a new tone as I walked into the world of Hannah;
they weren't lights anymore- they were the sun. And I was home.
"Ah!
There she is! Welcome back Savannah" Mr. Randall seemed surprised that I
had returned.
“You're
wrong Mr. Randall. I'm Hannah, Hannah Ferguson." and rehearsal continued.
This is me as Hannah Ferguson
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