The other day I saw a little girl walking past our house to
get to the park, and every time she saw one of the cats that live
around this area she would run up to it and give it a name, even
though most of them were the same cats, appearing in different
places.
It reminded me of when I was nine and my little sister, Ella,
was five and we were staying in Toronto, Canada. Near the hotel
where we were staying was a huge park and every day our nanny,
Pam, would take Ella and me there to see the squirrels. Since she
was only five, Ella had never even heard of squirrels and as we
were from Australia neither of us had seen one before, so we were
fascinated by them. We would stand in a circle of trees, with
bread crumbs scattered on the ground, and all around us the
squirrels would be popping in and out of the branches. Some were
really tame, and came up to us and would eat bread crumbs out of
our hands, and some would even climb up onto Ella and me and stand
on our shoulders and heads, but others were scared, and if we
moved they would scurry quickly back to join their friends in the
trees.
I remember seeing a group of particularly fat ones, and at the
time I was absolutely sure that they were pregnant, but looking
back now I'm pretty sure that they were just overweight. Maybe
from too many foreign tourists visiting! During those visits it
was like a dream. It was then that Ella and I saw some of the
first snow we'd ever seen, and neither of us could believe that
these furry little creatures scampering around us in the snow were
actually real, not part of some wonderful dream that we would soon
wake up from.
But one of the best parts of the park was what the little girl
in our street reminded me of, and that was the naming of the
squirrels. This took place every day and continued until every
squirrel in the park must have had at least ten names. My sister
and I would both go around to every tree and try to name every
squirrel in it, and like the little girl in the street, we named a
lot of them different names. It was a strange and unknown feeling
when I realised that Ella had just named the same squirrel three
different names in a row; this was the first time in my life that
I felt as if I was growing up. I was going to point it out to her
when I thought 'She's just little and she'll be upset if I tell
her, and I'm big, so I can keep this secret all to myself!' I felt
incredibly old and proud of myself all that day, though needless
to say I told my parents that night, which helped me feel more
mature.
By the end of the trip Ella was sure that she knew every
squirrel by name and spent the last day at the park trying to call
them to her. They didn't come, of course, but one time she called
a squirrel, and she hadn't noticed that it was already coming
towards her, so she was certain it was coming because it was
called. I let her get away with that as well, once more feeling
incredibly grown up.
MEMOIR: THE KING AND I
Emily Maslen (11)
Everything was going wrong. I felt like I was a dead body
being decapitated by worms and infested with maggots. I was
drenched right through, my goosebumps had goosebumps. I felt as if
I had had a touch of frost. Frost's delicate icicle fingers had
been laden across my neck. My rude and conceited teacher was too
engrossed with her other pet students to act in my best interests.
As a direct result of this careless act I had been forced to play
chess with the biggest 'nigel' in the class, and a boy at that. If
I wasn't trying to put on a good show for my new teachers there is
no other way on earth I could have coaxed myself into playing this
tedious game with a stranger that I wanted to keep in his present
stranger form.
I had been feeling very alone and I had no one to talk to for
the past week because I was new to the school and all the other
students, mostly the girls, disliked me, or the way I portrayed
myself, totally. I think that they must have felt I was a threat
to their 'close knit' groups.
I was just about to say 'checkmate', when the teacher called
attention and announced that Carinya was going to perform The King
and I. A challenge, a chance to prove to my peers, mentors and
myself that I can do something of value. So that is how it all
started.
I was so nervous and afraid of what people might think. My
teeth were clenched shut, I think probably to prevent them from
chattering. I felt like a three-day-old corpse, as stiff as a
board. I was having second thoughts. I still wanted to prove my
point but I also wanted to crawl up in a corner and cry. I
wondered if I could hide and maybe the teachers would totally
forget my very presence. Unfortunately, the time had come and it
was too late.
'Emily Maslen?' Mrs Newman stood at the door looking around
for me.
'I'm here', I said sheepishly.
This, in my whole eleven years of existence, would have to
take the cake as the most nervous time of my life.
I stood up slowly and shakily, as though I had been sitting
there on that chair for the past eleven years. I picked up my pace
and basically ran into the large echoing room that I was to
audition in. There on three chairs sat three slim delightful and
encouraging looking ladies. They were rather abrupt with me, which
only increased my apprehension. To look at, these women would have
been easy going but they had obviously had a long hard day and
their only wish in life at present was to be out of their present
situation.
'What's your song?' the first one said, expressionless.
A feeling of nothing came over me. What was my song? The one
time in life I didn't want a mental block was now and this was the
one time I got it.
'Away in a Manger', I answered.
In unison, all the ladies picked up their pens, scrawled down
the name and stared at me. Their eyes were fixed.
I began to sing. I was a bit shaky at first but once I got
focused I was all right. I sang my little heart out. I know for a
fact that my intonation was absolutely shocking but let's just
blame it on the nerves.
That was it. All that worry for absolutely nothing. I was
dismissed and they basically said, 'Don't call me, I'll call you.'
So that put me in a nice and lethargic mood. All my plans had been
totally ruined. Oh well, the rest of my life seemed to be sinking,
so why not my career on the stage too?
Two weeks later ...
'Class, some of you have been chosen to be in The King and I.
Your names will be on the library window at recess if you would
all like to go and have a look.'
I basically knew that there was no way that I would get in but
I thought I would go check it out anyway, just in case. Naturally,
I didn't get in. Just as I was slumping off, one of my newly-found
friends called back to me, 'Em, you got a call back. They want you
for a second audition.' That was it. I went back, the same
nerve-racking process, and I got in. Practice starts.
At the time, it didn't occur to me that the practices were
really important. They were tedious and at times very boring. We
spent a lot of our time in a room learning the songs. This was
meant to be serious, but to many of us it was a time to try to
make the teacher go insane. It was hard to concentrate while
thinking about being outside at lunch or playing with my new
friends. After about three weeks, we gave up on trying to make the
teacher go insane and decided to try our best to learn, as the
time of the performance was drawing near.
And so the practices intensified - we all practised our lines,
lyrics and movements. A movie was formed in my brain of all the
scenes from start to finish. I replayed it while I was awake and
while I was sleeping, longing for transformation. My every dream I
had ever dreamt had now become part of one big endless story
somehow related to The King and I. All I wanted was to become one
of the Siamese people in real life, not just in my fantasies.
There were times when I wished it was all over but there were
just as many highlights. The fear, excitement, laughter and pain.
So many memories I had built up over the time. At this time I
realised I had to swallow my pride because I was in it for more
than I had initially realised. For the first time at Carinya, I
felt wanted and like my life really mattered. Fellow actors and
myself were starting to become idols. Each of us thought that
someone else had an ideal life. I couldn't help liking being
praised and praising others; I gave myself up to it. The songs
repeated in my brain. They gave me a lift when I needed it. I sat
up for hours on end learning my lines. It made everything feel
more worthwhile, like I should never give up on anything I ever
set my mind to. This is one of life's major messages that I feel
that we all need to figure out sooner or later. The thing is that
we all have to figure it out for ourselves, it's not just
something we can be told. Over and over people can say things, but
until you can accept it and give it a try it is useless. In just
two months, it felt like I had changed lives and, in turn, those I
had learnt to respect had changed mine. I was once a humble
schoolgirl, now a Siamese princess.
I woke up bright and early ready for a day of 'lights, camera,
action!' The dress rehearsal. We got to try out our costumes,
figure out what makeup we would be wearing and make this musical
come alive. It had come together. From the time when Anna had got
on the boat to when the King died we were no longer schoolchildren
from Australia, but rich Siamese children of the crown.
We ran through the whole musical without stopping and if
someone made a mistake, as people say, 'the show must go on'. The
dress rehearsal in itself was a time to kick back and relax. It
took me just this one dress rehearsal to realise that you can
learn from your mistakes. It took a long time to get used to the
bright lights and the broad and overbearing stage. After hours on
end of costume changes, noise and laughter we were ready. We had
to be.
We joined a queue for everything. Clothes first. The
principals had a few people working on them. Artists perfecting
their works. We, on the other hand, were put on a type of
production line. Shirts on, sarongs were wrapped around us, pinned
up and then accessories added. Next room. Hair. Out comes the gel.
Our heads were plastered with it and then coated with black
hairspray. Next makeup. Our makeup was thick. Fortunately, our
makeup artists knew what they were doing and could give us quick
transformations into our ethnic backgrounds.
Opening night. The overture started. I sat in front of the
wide screen television and watched, as the scene was set. I
watched as my sister played her heart out on the flute. The rest
of the orchestra was playing flawlessly but my attentions were
focused on her. How quickly things can change. The curtains opened
and my sister no longer intrigued me, but rather, my focus
switched to the question of what my first line was.
Everything was dark. The sound of voices filled the
auditorium. As we moved to our positions, the people around me
were all a blur. They were meaningless faces, which just kept on
yelling at me. I then realised that they weren't yelling at me but
rather it was all a mirage. I was inside yelling at myself, having
an insignificant debate with the brains behind my emotions that
had led me to my fate. The main topic was why did I ever care
about fitting in? The inevitable result ... I'm only human.
Now I've got what I wanted. Friends and respect. Being in this
musical didn't seem all that important any more but I had come
this far and I could not give up. Besides, I would be letting down
all the people who worked so hard to make this event happen.
This debate that had me so engrossed had made me not realise
the time that had passed and before I knew it the overture had
finished, the curtains were opened, lights came up and the first
song had already begun.
The first note was perfect; the first line was said correctly.
I listened to what was said, and waited for my cues. Everything
was done precisely. Finally, all the hard work was paying
off.
After two and a half hours it was all over. We had worked for
nearly a year, and for what? Not much at first glance, but go in
deeper and you'll find a lot. I had learnt so many lessons.
This production couldn't have happened without a lot of people
pulling their weight. Sound and lighting, backstage, dressing room
crew, makeup and hair, orchestra, us actors, and the brains behind
it all, the directors. There were many 'thank yous' to be made and
every person involved has left an impression on me. These messages
will stay with me forever.
When the curtains closed for the final time the first thoughts
that went through my mind were that for months on end my only wish
was for it all to be over. But now all I wanted was for it to keep
going. The King and I had been a recurring bad dream. Every time I
closed my eyes all I could see was Anna sitting there in her
graceful white gown singing 'Getting to Know You' with all of her
surrogate children. She held us in the palm of her hand. Her
talent and kindness intrigued us.
Unfortunately, sometimes enough is enough and being pushed to
the limits with duties and expectations both to myself, mentors
and peers makes that which I lived for and loved into the very
thing that I hated most. One of the biggest truths in life is that
success is a dying concept, it's killing us. Wanting something so
badly that all the fun is taken out of us will only ruin those
chances of success.
This musical, up to this stage in my life, has been the most
outstanding thing I have achieved. The most important thing that I
learnt from this experience was that I need to love others and
myself unconditionally. Liking someone for their talents or looks
is shallow and will in time show true colours. Life is deeper and
we need to find that.