Blog: My Mom Saw Me In a Beard

Needless to say, I’ve had some diverse roles throughout my time in theater at East. I’m no damsel in distress, but I’ve gotten to have quite the variety of characters and experiences under my belt. Children shows, existentialism, psychotic exploration, realism, commedia del arte, musicals and Shakespeare: regardless of the style, my parents have supported me through every performance offering to help me memorize lines, making sure I eat dinner, seeing the show, and, especially on homework-heavy weeknights, reminding me to get to bed at a reasonable hour.

Last night, the Advanced Rep Theater show, “Nickel and Dimed,” Joan Holden’s adaptation of Barbara Ehrenreich’s “Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting by in America,” premiered. My mom, after a full day of work and a high-speed trek through rush hour traffic, was seated in the far house right seat of the eleventh row, quietly watching the show or laughing where appropriate.

When I’m onstage or backstage, in spite of my sometimes exciting, sometimes small, sometimes mildly embarrassing parts, my parents have never missed a show and never failed to tell me how great I was, how everything pulled together so well and how much she loved it.

I always have fun onstage–because I know my mom will be having fun in the audience. If it convinces you, my mom thought the show was awesome.