TalentEd
1999 TALENTED MEMOIR COMPETITION
 
Senior
 
Winner
Alexandra Hirst (13), Balgowlah, NSW [Queenwood School]
 
Highly Commended
Samuel Atkins (13), Point Clare, NSW [Green Point Christian School]
Kimberly Ong (17), Cherrybrook, NSW [Brigidine College, St Ives]
Kate Reeves (13), Clifton Gardens, NSW [Queenwood School]
 
Junior
 
Winner
Emily Maslen (11), Tamworth, NSW [Carinya Christian School]
 
Highly Commended
Elizabeth Cousemacker (11), Douglas Park, NSW [Camden South Public]
David Lam (11), Wattle Park, SA [Pembroke]
Jade Schroers (12), Catherine Field, NSW [PLC Sydney]
Gabrielle Weller (12), Strathfield, NSW [PLC Sydney]
 

 

MEMOIR: SQUIRRELS

 
Alex Hirst (13)
 
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. 

©TalentEd is located at the School of Education,
University of New England, Armidale, Australia. 

This page updated: 23 January 2006
Webmaker: Howard Smith. hsmith4@une.edu.au