留美必读：《不负少年强》英文版 之 On, Off, and Behind the Stage

The heavy influence of theatre art has been entwined in my growth since a very young age. Performing Peking opera and Chinese dialogue comedy enhanced my strengths as an actor. Since the second grade, I was a star comedy performer at my elementary school. Everything in my performing life looked so positive and enjoyable that I decided to carry on acting when I moved to the United States. However, as soon as I arrived I faced an enormous challenge.

As I went over the elective list before school began, carrying my passion as an actor, one item caught my eye. “Yes, there is an opportunity where I can continue my acting!” I said to myself. The first semester of that year my elective was theatre arts.

The first day of class, I found my way to the Performance Art Center through the complex tunnels. I pulled open the door, and a huge spacious room came into sight. Lights of different sizes and shapes hung down from the ceiling, rows and rows of chairs lined the floor. Everything faced one direction - the stage. Several people sat on the stage all dressed in suits and ties. Some of them looked so mature that I could not tell the difference between the students and teachers. But when I looked off the stage everything became clear. I found two bearded men sitting in the very front row. Later, I found out they were Mr. A and Mr. K. One was talking to one of the students on stage, the other was looking at the checklist in his hands. He turned around and found me.“Ah, you must be Lincoln,” he said, “come, come on stage. I think we have everyone now. ” I walked up and sat on stage, and that was probably the only thing I understood the whole class period.

My poor English skills prevented me from understanding what the teachers said. It was like a foggy dream. Everything they said was gone in the next moment. In the blink of an eye, the semester ended and the time for the fall musical was upon us. I would have auditioned to perform in it. However, I knew that I could not have made it because of my language deficiencies. Yet, acting was one of my life passions and I would not give it up. So if I couldn’t go on stage, I would go behind the stage.

For the first fall musical in my life,I joined the back stage crew. I moved chairs and tables on and off the stage, and watched the actors preparing their lines and putting on their costumes. It seemed like my acting dream was so far away. Unlike the actors, the back stage crew did not go out for the final bow. No one would know or care about the back stage crew. Amidst the sadness, I told myself that this was my first step in achieving my glory on stage again. I didn't have the English skills, but I would hang on to performance arts. I would start back stage and learn about directing, making the set, and lighting. Learning about these things would not just make me a better crew member, it could help me achieve my ultimate goal of becoming a better actor.

As the two productions of the first year went by, I learned a lot from the back stage team. I thought that I was prepared to join one of the performances. That day in eighth grade, I stood tall and straight, and took huge strides towards the Performance Art Center for my first audition. Grabbing the handles with a proud grip, I pulled the doors wide open with a big smile, and made a dramatic entrance. I don’t know what I expected. Applause? Cheers? Or maybe flowers? All I do know was that I received none of those things. Instead, I stood in the doorway for two seconds as a breeze of awkwardness blew by. The teachers and most of the prospects were present in the spacious room. I tiptoed into the room without anyone noticing.

At that moment, two prospects walked onto the stage. They both grabbed scripts that were completely new to them. One actor stepped up onto the stage confidently, but stood shivering on stage when he saw the unfamiliar script. He held the script tightly with his shaking hands, slowly raising it to the level of his eye, he whispered the lines. “Could you speak louder please?” The teacher asked politely.

“Yes, yes of course.” He replied and then proceeded to whisper the lines slightly louder.

“Since when did reading the script become that difficult?” I mumbled to myself. I snuck to the second row and quietly found myself a seat. I thought to myself, “I haven’t read any lines for a while now. What if I’m not as familiar with reading out loud anymore? Bingo! I can observe how the others read and then I can refresh my memory. Yes! That’s such a good idea. If I can observe and learn from…” I carried on with my thoughts happily. I imagined how great I would do on stage and how much I would impress the teachers.

Followed by a round of applause the two prospects walked off stage.

The teacher checked his list, “And next up we have Lincoln Wang.”

“Wait what? I haven’t had the chance to observe another student yet!” I couldn't delay any further, even though I had only witnessed one person shivering on stage whispering his lines. “I should have come here on time and prepared!” I fumed. “But what can regret change?” I walked up onto the stage shivering, but when I turned to look down at the audience, like a beam of hope, my memories were awakened. I remembered my old acting days, speaking in front of my whole school, and performing a talk show to a thousand people while absolutely no one understood anything I said. I had been through worse. Confidence was what mattered.

I walked onto the stage shivering, but unlike the other guy, when I stood on stage I stood confidently. I gave myself a pep talk, “It doesn’t matter if I can’t read consistently. It doesn’t matter if I meet unfamiliar vocabulary, and it doesn’t matter if I have no idea what I just said. Just say it. Say it with confidence.” I read my lines louder than I ever had before, applying careful inflection to my tone. I read with feeling without repeating fumbled sentences, even when my pronunciation was not so clear. I didn’t skip the vocabulary I didn't know, instead, I tried to guess the sounds. Slowly but steadily, I finished reading the script, and received applause from the audience. The teachers nodded at my skills.

The result, as you can imagine, was very desirable. I was assigned a character who only appeared for half a scene in the entire production. Well, at least I made it into the play. It was my opportunity to prove my worthiness as a talented actor! Even if I only had one line, I’d make it perfect. Good thing I had seven. Just as our theatre arts teacher always said, “There are no small characters, only small actors.”

Keeping the importance of preparation in mind, I began breaking down my character: A female maid¹ who was being interrogated by a police officer. She was timid and shy. “She’d be very scared of course! I shall say my lines nervously then.” I thought. The first day of rehearsal arrived. I had most of my lines memorized, and all of my actions planned out. As soon as I began speaking, Mr. A raised his head from the script and looked at me, his eyes flashing. When rehearsal was finished, he walked up to me, “You did very well today, keep the good work up.” I responded with four words, “Thank you. I will.” The official performance went smoothly. Afterwards, I received praises from my friends.

I always make the best out of my duty whatever it is. Even though I only had seven lines with three minutes on stage, I managed to make my small character big. I expressed her timidity thoroughly and displayed her nervousness to the extent that the audience believed everything was real. They told me I was really into my character, and they actually thought I was a maid. These genuine phrases encouraged me. I felt that I became the actor who I was again.