Snuggling in between the sheets in my parents bed, my sister and I would huddle together to watch the red carpet. I would point my finger at the screen and ask my father who all these people were, mesmerized by their beautiful gowns and prestige. My mother would throw a comment or two at the gowns, then get bored two minutes into the show.
It never mattered who was hosting or what movies were being honored, I only cared about one thing. It may sound silly to you, but it was the most important thing in the world for a child with big hopes and dreams. I would sit patently through the commercials, through the corny jokes and the long performances for the… wait for it… the best actress’ acceptance speech.
After four long hours of award show this little girl sits and waits for one lucky woman to receive her Oscar. The acceptance speech is a two minute ramble about how honored she feels and how to thank the Academy, her family, and possible pet dog Larry. Why should a child like myself care?
It is very simple. I wanted to be her.
I admired the talents that these award winning actors and actresses possessed, I loved the art and the passion that the entertainment industry brought to others. I so badly wanted to slap on a new face and wow the audience, turn on a few laughs and bow before the curtains.
This was my dream, but I never acted upon it. Even as a young elementary schooler I knew the difficulties that came with such a life style. Still, I would stay up late at night to practice my acceptance speech. I would create my own monologues and pretend the world knew my name.
I do not regret pursuing a career in education, teaching is something I have wanted to do for as long as I can remember. Yet, I wonder how different life would have been as an aspiring actress. I wonder if I am talented enough, beautiful enough.
I still watch the Oscars ever year. I still envy the dresses and wait patiently for that last speech. I want to see who she will thank and if she will cry. I still pretend she is me, and I am her.
I have not totally given up hope. I think about my book, and if it will take off one day. I think about it becoming a major motion picture. I imagine myself playing a minor character and letting my acting career take off from there.
I shoot high, but I have no choice. I won’t be satisfied with anything less. There is time, there is opportunities. I am hopeful.