Written by Annie Kee, theatre education graduate student at Emerson College and author of the blog, [clever title] .

I would never call myself a faithful person. In fact, I’ve lived long enough and changed enough that I’m beginning to realize most things in life are not constant and few things are to be strongly believed as true or real or even dependable. My relationship with theatre, which is longer than any relationship I’ve ever had, barring those with my family, defies my sad, little, isolative theory.

I spent the first fourteen years of my life in Brooklyn, NY, where I grew up in and around theatres. It’s become part of family lore, at least to me, that seeing The Secret Garden on Broadway, with its young heroine, at about eight years old was the catalyst to me realizing, Hey! I could do that. Little Daisy Eagan, just 11, went on to win that year’s Best Actress in a Musical Tony Award. Let’s just say, I was pretty excited to follow in her footsteps one day.

I spent parts of my childhood feeling very lonely and isolated. My household life was tumultuous, and I often played the role of “good little girl.” I didn’t want my parents to worry about me, and I never wanted to draw attention to myself. I had it taken care of. Everything was fine. My homework is done. I can make myself dinner. Nobody be alarmed.

The most influential moments in my life happened when I was in the care of young adult mentors, be it in dance class or at summer camp, where I was able to express myself as a young girl and feel the safety of my young adult peers. I realize, today, how imperative this was in saving my life. Or at least in shaping it. Getting away from home and doing something creative in a safe place reminded me that I was an individual. That I could make connections. That I had something to say and people to listen.

Eighteen years later, I have carved out the beginnings of a career for myself, as a mentor of children. I have witnessed the true power of theatre, especially for young girls, who tap into skills and confidence and maturity they didn’t think they had.

Two years ago, I was the co-director of a children’s production of Alice in Wonderland at a small theatre in Central Coast California. We had a cast of fifteen students, ages 8-17 years old. It was these students who really shaped my experience of working so closely with children. The final performance, our young lead, a 14-year-old girl, made an incredibly moving speech about how important it had been for her and all her castmates to have me and my co-director as safe places to go, to cry on our shoulders and to help them shape themselves. I realized these young women had been changed because of their time with me.

Currently, I’m student-teaching at an urban high school near downtown Boston. The school’s Winter Arts Showcase was this Thursday, and, though I was on my feet for seven hours that day and confused most of the time because we’d never had a tech run, though this school is poor and we work in a large assembly hall and the stage lights are run through the breaker box, I was still struck by the constants of theatre. It’s always magical. It’s always an immediate experience for the audience. It’s always an opportunity for the cast to band together. To make something out of nothing.

In this case, it was also the opportunity for a young woman to share a story based on true events. The pieces presented that day were short plays-in-progress written and directed by the advanced theatre class. Her story painted the picture of an overworked woman who runs into a man on the street who triggers her memory of a sexual assault. Most of the piece is a monologue, with the act of assault happening in subtly suggestive shadow behind her. It is a short play about healing and strength. The young woman’s sister played the shadow-memory-version of the lead character.

I was so impressed and moved by this young woman’s strength and bravery. And proud, too, that this field I’ve decided to devote my life to will always be a forum where young women will be able to express themselves.

Where we all can learn to have faith in ourselves.

Annie is currently a graduate student at Emerson College, where she is studying Theatre Education. Annie is only recently beginning to claim the title Teaching Artist. Her blog, [clever title], at www.takeelah.blogspot.com is a personal, mostly autobiographical, blog where she attempts to sort out answers to lots of questions.