What on earth was I, Tzippy Hartstein, doing at the top of the cast list? Who was I? A faker?
Since my solo in the school’s Melaveh Malkah choir, my confidence shot up to another level. I was so relieved that it had gone well and so grateful to my parents for pushing me to do it.
Knowing that there was a part of school where my true colors could shine was like carrying around a secret treasure in my heart. It was something nobody could take away from me.
The next year, in tenth grade, another huge opportunity presented itself: tryouts for the school play. The papers were hanging everywhere in school. This time I didn’t even have a way out. Auditions were compulsory. Scared, yet somewhat intrigued, I gave the audition everything I had, again blocking out the people in the room with me. It always worked best when I imagined I was in my bedroom, because truth be told, my bedroom was the place of the dramatic arts for me.
I didn’t think I’d get a part in drama. I mean, come on, I was super shy in school, and these parts generally went to the louder, more popular girls.
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