In all honesty, no one really understands what we performers go through. They see us put on our performance one time. They think it’s as easy as 1-2-3. In reality, they don’t see how hard we work to get our lines right and our body motions to go with the lines. Everything must be practiced and done right. In rehearsal we may joke around with each other and play around, but when we hit that stage, everything becomes professional. If we do something wrong, we can criticize ourselves for weeks, even months about what we did wrong. If we do everything right and perfect, we give ourselves so much confidence and assurance that we were nothing less than amazing!
As we stand on that stage under the bright lights, our heart beats fast,our palms start sweating, and it almost feels like we’re under pressure to be perfect.
We performers are always dedicated and determined to make a show amazing and perfect. We stay after school, 2 days a week, until 5:30 in the afternoon practicing and perfecting every little piece of our performance. We want to do and be our best for everyone. As we stand on that stage under the bright lights, our heart beats fast,our palms start sweating, and it almost feels like we’re under pressure to be perfect. We get nervous because all we want is for the audience to enjoy the show, but we also don’t want to mess up. Sure we make mistakes, but that doesn’t mean we have to stop and perfect it. If we’re in rehearsal, that’s fine but on stage, in front of an audience, the show must go on.
Imagine coming to a new country and trying to speak the language they’ve been speaking their entire lives. For foreign exchange students, this is reality.
HHS’s Kathleen Pfannstiel is from Germany. She was taught to speak British English in school, but decided to spend a year in America, where we speak our own version of English. Kathleen, or Kathy, has had to overcome many struggles speaking with people. Her lack of experience in the English language prevents her from understanding other people, and her accent prevents people from understanding her. It took a lot of guts for Kathy to come here and try to communicate with everyone. It’s a lot to handle all at once.
Kathy explains how much confidence it took to bring herself into a new country without any familiar faces. She came here alone, and had to be confident enough to walk down the halls of a school with kids that don’t even speak the language she grew up with. With just a couple months left, Kathy has learned to accept her accent, and decided to be confident in herself as a German exchange student.
Moments of total, world-shaking bliss are not easy to come by. Maybe that’s what makes them feel so life-altering when they strike. And so worth chasing. This hour: stories of striving, grasping, tripping, and falling for happiness, perfection, and ideals.
– Story by Kristin Buehner – Images by Dylan Smith – Edited by Adam Strong
February 29th, 2012
My hands cold on the sides of the porcelain sink. I lean in trying to get a good look. It came down to the question of whether or not I really wanted to know myself. Do I really want to wither away? Can I handle my own eyes looking back at me, sunlight extinguished within them?
I splash water on my face, abandon the mirror, and walk out into the hallway. Our house is big. It has the luxury of being spacious, which also means that it feels empty, another place to not fit into.
The only light available in the entire house is a flickering light from the television screen in the living room. All day and all night that screen is on and it’s the only welcome company for my son.
I sit with him, like I do every day.
Ever since Sammi was a baby, TV static was the only way we could ever get him to calm down. He’d go into these states, an anger that swelled and swarmed up, angry bees inside him, tensing up every muscle in his body. Read more →
The moon is in pieces. Space station Exodus drilled towards the core of the white orb and hit something. Like a gas pocket. But the moon is dead. Something went wrong and now everything is going down the toilet.
[media-credit name=”Image courtesy Joshua Pearson” align=”alignright” width=”400″][/media-credit]I stared long and hard at my basketball, the Nike symbol stared back. “How could something that is a fossilized satellite just fall to pieces?” The answer alluded all reason. I tried to understand the problem the whole world was now faced with. If I take a needle and stick it into my basketball and push into the center nothing should happen. What are the odds of it exploding? My basketball is dead, just like the moon, right? Then why is it in pieces?
I wonder if NASA is having the same trouble as I am. I wonder how bad this is going to affect the world. I’ve read those books about asteroids hitting the moon and stuff, knocking it out of orbit and whatnot. But that’s just out of orbit—this is in pieces—like lots of little pieces.
I looked towards the sky; I could see the moon (or now moons). It looked as if someone was breaking a white dinner plate in slow motion, and now everything was just expanding out into space. If pieces of the moon were expanding in all directions, doesn’t that mean it was expanding towards earth too? Just yesterday I was worrying about getting a girlfriend, and now the moon is in pieces. I never would have thought that when I woke up this morning the whole world was going to be in jeopardy. Things haven’t been all that great in the world lately, but at least we blew up the moon and not ourselves.
He said this was going to happen, that goofy guy on the news channel. He always said that drilling towards the center of something we know almost nothing about was probably a bad idea. “It’s like walking into a cave where you can’t see anything but you can hear a beast inside,,” he’d said. What I don’t think the media or that goofy guy realized, is that the government isn’t afraid of anything. It’s as if they were throwing pebbles at the Washington monument in hopes of bringing it to the ground.
[media-credit name=”Image courtesy Joshua Trottier” align=”aligncenter” width=”560″][/media-credit]I rolled off the curb and forced myself to stand up. Sweat dripped down my face. I readied myself to shoot the ball. I tried to concentrate, but my thoughts made it hard to focus. I bent my knees, and took my shot—jumping as I pushed the ball skyward . Air ball. It didn’t even hit the backboard.
With the feeling of failure in my throat I walked towards the front door. I left the basketball in the neighbor’s bushes where it landed. I sort of stumbled through the front door, walked upstairs to my room, jumped and landed face first into my bed.