Were you that kid in elementary school who had a hard time waiting your turn to go up on the swing set? Were you that kid who refused to eat your vegetables, even though you were most likely to get dessert if you did?
Were you that kid who just wanted everything yesterday? As a young adult born in the 1990s and raised as a millennial, I am not surprised to see kids wanting things right this instant, if not sooner. And as somebody on the autism spectrum, I admit to feeling as though I am more entitled to such rewards — regardless of whether I legitimately deserve them.
But in a society in which nearly all middle-class Americans are offered a shower of opportunities to shine in the spotlight — even if they just breezed their way through school — there has to be some sort of boundary.
As an English and communications student at the University of Florida, I am extremely grateful to be in the heart of the Gator Nation. However, my initial educational goal was to attend a top fine-arts program in musical theater with hopes of performing on Broadway — and hopefully doing so debt free, despite the $240,000 price tag.
Even at a performing-arts high school, I did not feel confident in my work. My singing and acting were fine — although I wish I’d selected better monologues — but my dance abilities were never up to par. I knew I would be rejected but became overconfident to avoid looking like a fool holding up a letter reading “Dear Mr. McKibbin, We are sorry to say that we cannot offer you a space in Carnegie Mellon’s BFA program.”
I’d be perfectly happy with my verdict if many of my peers were in the same boat. Unfortunately, every one of my friends in musical theater got accepted somewhere: Point Park University, Boston Conservatory, Elon University, Tisch School of the Arts or Emerson College. If I were to read another “Got into [insert BFA program here]” status on Facebook, I would throw my laptop onto the pavement from my second-story bedroom.
But does it really make a difference?
Does it really matter if I got into Carnegie Mellon University’s drama program — one famous for producing stars like Billy Porter, Josh Gad, Patina Miller, Christian Borle, Judith Light and Cherry Jones? Honestly, it’s not like I was rejected from its computer science program. Unlike computer science, where you need to have good credentials in order to get a job, theater is a real crapshoot.
There are people who have talent who never finished or even attended college or acting school. Just look at Sutton Foster, LaChanze, Anne Hathaway and Kelsey Grammer. And if that’s the case, it looks like where you go to school doesn’t seem to make a difference. It’s all about timing, luck and talent.
So quite frankly, even if my Broadway debut doesn’t come when I finish my undergraduate degree, I won’t mind. It’s not my turn yet. I had to wait a long time for my turn before. I couldn’t talk until I was three. I wasn’t toilet trained until I was five. I never took Algebra I before my freshman year of high school, when everybody in my class took the same course in seventh or eighth grade.
I’m used to being behind my peers. Do I like it? Hell no! I’m just used to it. But until I get my turn, I can just suck it up, take more acting classes, sing in choir, take more dance lessons and audition for as many shows as my schedule allows. When the time is right, maybe I can reapply to Carnegie Mellon.
Or better yet, maybe I can just move to New York and see what happens from there. There’s no deadline, which means I should wait my turn. If we didn’t have to wait our turns on the swing set as children, we might not have enjoyed the experience as much and may have moped in the sandbox instead.
David McKibbin is a UF English freshman. A version of this column ran on page 7 on 1/7/2014 under the headline "On timing: It’s not my turn yet"
