The Liar

I was a ridiculous liar as a kid. I’m not talking about your garden-variety lies either, the lies I told were grand — designed to make me seem “cooler” or “more accomplished” than my peers. To put them in perspective, here’s a short list of some of my most insane and cringe-worthy falsehoods. Be warned, some of these are pretty bad:

First Game Cover One of my first fake game covers — very terribly photo shopped.
The Nerf Video. I turned off the audio when I showed other kids.

One of the lies I’m most ashamed of now, occurred when I was in elementary school. We would write creative stories, and then read them in front of class. I really enjoyed writing funny fictional pieces, and I had written a few that had been pretty popular. Another one of these rolled around, but I couldn’t think of a good narrative. So I wrote down a funny Christmas-themed story that my best friend had showed me a couple days before, in which Rudolph ends up getting turned into sausage by a lawyer. The story was a huge hit, to the point that my teacher had me read it in front of the other two classes in our grade. I pretty much became known for that story at my elementary school — in fact, a lot of people I grew up with will probably still remember me for that. It was almost completely plagiarized!

Now, let me reassure people who may now be questioning my integrity: I am nothing like this anymore. It took awhile, but by the time I was in high school, this habit was almost entirely eradicated. However, this trait is key in understanding the person I am today. See, the more lies I told, the harder I had to work to make them believable and keep them straight. Another best friend of mine (one of the few that really knew how much I lied) frequently quoted Walter Scott to me in reference to this dilemma:

“O, what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive!”

In my mind, the only way I was going to keep this web of lies intact, was to gain some understanding of all the skills I would have if the lies I told were actually true. So that’s exactly what I did. I spent a significant amount of my free time learning how to program, photo edit, video edit, and use audio software. Ironically, I gained many of the employable skills I have today as a direct result of lying about having them in the first place. The side effect, however, was that I always felt like a poser, even when I started to get good at programming, video editing, etc. I felt that my lies would always overshadow my achievements.

Honesty through Performing

At this point you might be wondering how any of this relates to why I’ve decided to pursue performance. And granted, up until now I have been setting myself up to be a Frank Abagnale type — not necessarily an actor. But bear with me, it’ll make sense soon.

If there was one thing I loved as much as appearing “cool” to my friends, it was music. My mom was a musician growing up, and my dad made sure to expose me to a variety of different concerts and musicals, from the Dave Matthews band to Guys and Dolls. I loved to sing, and one of my favorite past times was plunking out basic songs on my little keyboard. For a long time I believed that live music and performance was one of the purest displays of talent possible — you couldn’t fake vocal ability (I obviously know now that lip-syncing exists), mastery of an instrument, excellent dancing, or mind-blowing acrobatics when you are on stage in front of hundreds, or even thousands of strangers. And I think that this is what made me yearn to be a performer, even before I first sang in front of people I didn’t know. There was something about it that forced me to be honest and vulnerable. I remember competing in my town’s local youth talent competition, Port Orchard Superstar, and being so happy with myself after making it past the first round. It was a small achievement, but it was only possible thanks to actually putting the work in to learn the song, and having the guts to sing it in front of the judges. Now I wasn’t very good, but at the time that didn’t matter to me. I had actually done it! I had performed. And with that, I was on my way.

Video of baby me, terrified to death, performing in the Port Orchard Superstar Semi-Finals.

I didn’t do anything else performance related for a long time. By the time I was 10, I had pretty much decided that I was going to be a programmer. I had been told time and time again that I shouldn’t try to become an actor/musician/singer. It simply wasn’t a safe or stable career. So I put all of my time into getting good with computers instead. Fast forward to middle school, and I was pretty comfortable with a lot of programming languages and software. But this is also when my lying peaked.

I was incredibly stressed from having to manage all the dishonesty that pervaded my life, and being in the thick of puberty, I was more self-conscious than ever too. I felt that I had to keep telling bigger and better lies in order to seem intelligent/fun/etc. and compensate for my lack of social skills. I started obsessing over my looks, spending hours looking at myself in the bathroom. This is also when I dry shaved my legs with my dad’s razor, after a couple comments from friends about how hairy they were (that resulted in a solid month of discomfort). All in all, I was really struggling.

And here’s where theater really enters my life for good. When I was fifteen I performed in my first musical ever. It was “Into the Woods Jr”, and I was cast as Rapunzel’s Prince and the Wolf. This was through a wonderful young actors summer program in Alaska called STAR (Summer Theatre Arts Rendezvous), so I was guaranteed a part — but having grown up watching the 1989 original Broadway cast of Into the Woods on VHS, I was ecstatic to be playing one of my favorite roles. I came back home after the first day of rehearsals, and I was hooked. I had never been in an environment that was so accepting, and yet so inspiring. The cast of that show was truly a team; everyone welcomed me into the theater with open arms. They motivated me to do my absolute best, without ever making me feel bad about myself. I never felt like I had to lie about something, or put on a facade in order to feel like a part of the group. I was just myself. And that was enough. If I ever succeed in theater, I will have STAR to thank for giving me my start!

Coming of Age on Stage

It may sound dramatic (wink) but that first musical really was the catalyst that turned me into the person I am today. After that first performance I didn’t go a single year without doing some kind of show. Being a part of a production was always the highlight of my year. I was happiest when I was rehearsing, and I felt good about the work I was doing. There was no deceit behind performance, just hard work and an urge to put on the best show possible. The first time I thought “I might want to do this the rest of my life” was when I was cast in Seven Brides for Seven Brothers as Gideon my junior year of high school. I almost didn’t audition. On my way home, I just happened to pass the open theater door and see an audition notice, and in a very uncharacteristic display of risk taking, I walked in. It was one of the best decisions of my life. I met some of my dearest friends to this day in that musical. I can say without a doubt, that the course of my life completely changed the day I entered that theater. A depression that I had been fighting for the past two years was slowly but surely conquered thanks to the overwhelming love that came from every single member of that cast. I met someone who would become a critical part of my life over the next two years. I became a part of a family.

First Game Cover Our awesome poster for the show by Ari Trejo!

I should mention that this is also when I started to experience real success in computer science. I was excelling in my AP Computer Science class, I was getting freelance jobs outside of my dad for the first time, I formed a team and competed in a programming competition at the Microsoft campus, and I got my first job as an assistant technology instructor with a company in Seattle. Yet despite this, I never felt as fulfilled as I did being around my cast mates, singing in front of an audience, or even just rehearsing in general. That’s why I really dived into my high school’s artistic scene my senior year. I joined the Acting Ensemble, Chamber Choir, Jazz Choir, was cast as the lead in the school musical, and performed in community theater productions for the first time. I became known as something of a theater kid myself, which honestly felt pretty good. The Acting Ensemble that year became another branch of my growing family, and the choir introduced me to a side of music that I had never been aware of before. But most important of all, every experience I had with these people made me feel like I was worth something. Not just because of my talent, my ability with computers, or even my devilishly handsome looks (joking), but because I was a good person. That’s something technology rarely has to offer.

First Game Cover Acting Ensemble 2017 (now affectionately referred to as Ancientsemble)

A key part of rehearsals is being able to make mistakes in front of directors and cast mates, and being able to own those mistakes. Mistakes are how you learn. Anyone who has spent significant time in a choir, or even an ensemble, will tell you that it’s better to sing a wrong note loud than to not sing anything. If the director hears something wrong, they can correct you, but you won’t get any help if you hide that you are struggling. The odd realization I came to after graduating was that somewhere along the way I had stopped lying to people about who I was. That isn’t to say that all my problems were solved. But theater made me realize that it’s OK to be my imperfect self. I had started to sing out my imperfections, rather than hiding behind falsehoods I designed to glorify myself. And boy did it feel good.

The Downfall

Unfortunately, things got a lot worse for me very quickly. I still didn’t believe I could really go after a life on stage after graduating high school. So I went to UW-Tacoma as a pre-science major, with the goal of completing my bachelors in Computer Science. I moved away from home, and started providing for myself as much as I could. And shit hit the fan for me real fast.

First Game Cover Presenting code for a gene analysis project I did for my Bioinformatics certification at UW-T.

I wasn’t bad at school. I got a 4.0 my first quarter, and actually really enjoyed myself in my music appreciation class. I learned a lot, made a Wikipedia page, and developed a Java program that made random MIDI compositions from text input. However, things were deteriorating for me emotionally and physically. After my first quarter I was really starting to feel the stress of a full course load, two jobs, and rehearsal. At first I thought that I could solve this by taking the acting component out of my life, in order to give me more time in the evenings. But that didn’t solve anything, and I just found myself craving to perform more. Moreover, I had just been diagnosed with type one diabetes, but was not on any insulin and was starting to rapidly lose weight because of my unregulated glucose levels. I was getting up at 2am to go to work, going to classes right after, and spending my evenings doing homework. It wasn’t sustainable. I eventually switched jobs and got my health under control, but I think the damage — both to my relationship at the time and to my own motivation — was too deep. I managed to get through another two quarters, I moved out of the apartment I was staying in, and moved in with my dad who was now living in Eastern Washington. Soon after I got dumped, dropped out of the community college I was going to, fell into a deep depression, and just got pretty confused about life.

First Game Cover Edwin Drood at Mid-Columbia Musical Theatre

The decision I made when I was 10 to become a programmer had never been shaken until now. Suddenly I didn’t know what I wanted to do. Looking back, computers had always been a way to make money. I enjoyed programming as a hobby, sure, but the work was monotonous. I liked teaching technology, but I realized it wasn’t something that I wanted to do for the rest of my life. So what now? I didn’t know the answer, but I figured moping around my dad’s house wouldn’t do me any good. Over the course of the following 6 months I took on another two jobs, started doing musicals with a local company, and through that company met my wonderful and gorgeous girlfriend. Being a thespian herself, she asked me if I would be interested in auditioning for Leavenworth Summer Theater and possibly getting paid to perform over the summer. Having been to Leavenworth a few times before, I couldn’t imagine anything better than getting paid to act there for three months. So I said yes, we both got in, and I embarked on what was the most enlightening summer of my life.

Making the Decision

First Game Cover My girlfriend and I backstage in Sound of Music 2019

There’s something special about living and breathing theater every day for three months. The amount of talent I experienced in Leavenworth was unrivaled to any production I had been a part of before. There was amazing operatic voices, hilarious acting, and beautiful dancing (shout out to my awesome housemates and dancing QUEENS, Anna and Dayle!). I rehearsed everyday for 8+ hours with these people, all towards the common goal of pumping out three exceptional shows by the end of the month. By the time all three shows were open, I felt as if I had known some of my cast mates for years. No, I didn’t make a ton of money. I definitely would have made way more if I had stayed at my job in the Tri Cities all summer. But I learned a hell of a lot. I learned that theater motivates me to stay fit (doing 6 shows a week isn’t easy if you aren’t). I learned that I don’t hate dancing. I learned how valuable a good attitude and a friendly disposition can be in a team setting. I learned how important hard work is too. I learned a thousand things. But most importantly, I learned that I can’t live without this. And that’s when I knew that I had to go for this dream of a theatrical career. I’d live to regret it if I didn’t.

First Game Cover The zany high school cast of Joseph doing a collective dab because it’s 2017.

In writing this post, I have looked back and reevaluated the past 20 years of my life on this earth. Five years ago, I decided to make theater a part of my world, and I haven’t been able to let go since. Most of my friends come from the arts community now, my profile pictures are almost always from a theatrical experience, 80% of the music I listen to are cast albums, and my fondest memories are from shows. Time and time again, I’ve been able to meet a team of 20+ strangers who become family after just a couple of months. And I’m simply a better person now, because what I learn on stage and in rehearsal does translate to the rest of my life. To anybody who might be in a similar position as me, there is one piece of advice that I heard a lot while making this decision over the summer: Can you imagine doing anything else and being just as happy? For me, at least, the answer is ultimately no. I’m way behind a lot of people. Sure, I have a tolerable voice, but I’ve got a long ways to go in developing my acting and dancing. But I know that won’t matter in the end. Because I’m more motivated than ever. I’m OK with making a complete fool of myself while I catch up. I’m going to work harder than anyone else, fail, pick myself back up, and probably fail again. I welcome the struggle. For the first time in my life I feel truly unstoppable.

Broadway here I come.