MS Fitness Card

Top 10: The Star of the Show

The polished wooden stage is swept with luscious velvet curtains. The teeming crowd is practically jumping out of their cushioned seats in excitement. They have been waiting for this production for a long time. Everything is dark, like the night, you can't even see your own hand in front of you. Anxiety weaves through each person, as wonder fills the cold air. Who will be the star of the show? A shrieking clap of thunder races across the room, as a blinding yellow light, appears in a large circle at the centre of the stage. The audience is scrambling for a glimpse at the actors, but the spotlight is beamed directly on only one person. Where are the rest of the actors?

You see, the rest of the actors and actresses hide in the shadows, bouncing on their toes with butterflies fluttering in their stomachs. All costumed in their thoughts for this performance, the artists wait for their turn in the glorious spotlight. The performers wait. And wait. And wait. But, their turn to present their stunning act will never come, because of one person, one cruel attention freak.

Yes, I am a performer. I am hiding in the shadows of one human being, just as most of you are. My thoughts remain in an abyss, all ideas to be forgotten, never to be spoken out loud. Every theory, all opinions, even my minuscule suggestions, are all banished to myself because I am forbidden to utter a single word. Why? Because the attention freak has struck, again. The attention freak snatches all of the attention towards him, and won't let anyone else speak at all. The being glues our mouths shut with not tape, but with his mind so that none of our thoughts can be shared with anyone. Magnificent words bubble out of the attention freak's mouth like a waterfall, the words cease to stop pouring out until they have drowned out everyone's voice but his. Wave after wave, his words turn into sentences, and his sentences to turn into paragraphs, and even his paragraphs turn into essays, as the waterfall of words never stops. This is why the performers will always be waiting because the attention freak will never lend the spotlight to anyone else.

We are all meant to be stars of this show. We all want to dance and twirl in front of the crowd, we all want our ideas to shine under the spotlight. But, we are not able to, because the attention freak has stolen the spotlight yet again. He has shut out our thoughts and spoken only his out loud. Enough, I say, enough. We have waited far too long to throw the attention freak off the stage. The time has come for him to step into the shadows. The time has come for us to become the stars of the show.

Blocking the Ugly Princess Assignment

In our drama class, we performed a melodramatic performance. This performance was based on the fairy tale Rapunzel but had twists and turns in the script to make this performance much more funny and interesting! Our class was divided into two groups, one group performed on a thrust stage(a stage with an additional runway platform in the front), and our group performed on a theatre-in-the-round stage(the audience is seated on all 4 sides of the stage). Both groups performed in front of 2nd graders, who later voted for their favourite performance! Below are two videos, one shows the practice performance(in front of our class) and one video shows the live performance(in front of a real audience) for our group. I will be writing a critique comparing our rough version to our final version below. Enjoy!

Live Performance
  

Practice Performance



Our rough version had space for a ton of improvement, both for our group and myself. First, I'm going to critique what I did wrong in my rough performance and what I did to change it. Then, I will be critiquing my group's rough performance. Lastly, I will be critiquing the live performance!

First, of, I did a few things wrong. For my rough performance, when I entered onto the stage, I entered in a playful lively fashion which gave some personality to my character, so everything went very smoothly. I walked around the stage and talked to the second graders smoothly as well, but then when I started getting angry at Rapunzel for keeping the chocolate, I didn't seem very mad at all. And when I was threatening her about how her father had called on a terrible witch to be her guardian, the emotions didn't seem exaggerated enough. Those were the issues I had before returning back to the stage. When the stepfather and I returned to the stage later on in the performance, everything ran perfectly - I looked shocked at the disappearance of Rapunzel who had run off with the prince - but when the witch threatened us for letting Rapunzel escape, I didn't seem frightened at all, in comparison to the stepfather, I barely seemed scared. Therefore my main critique on myself for the rough performance is that I didn't exaggerate my emotions enough.

For our group, there was a bit of critique to be given. Firstly, the whole librarian narrator gig didn't work out at all and muddled up the story, which the blame was on the whole group for not realising the issue with this idea. Secondly, our group hadn't realised that we were not allowed any black-outs during the scene so it was very awkward to place the tower in the middle of the stage during our performance. Lastly, another critique for our group is that we kept on changing our lines around which ended up making a 4-minute performance, 8 minutes long! However, we did nothing to change this for the live performance as we hadn't realised how overtime we had gone.

Our live performance was drastically better than our rough performance. I improved my own performance specifically by seeming quite angry at Rapunzel for keeping the chocolate and used a threatening dangerous voice for when I threatened her about the witch locking her up. I also improved my performance by seeming exaggeratedly scared of the witch. Our group collaboratively enhanced our performance by keeping the witch as the narrator and changing the lines of the narrator we had used in the rough version to fit the witch's personality. We also improved our performance by leaving the tower in the middle of the stage the entire performance and utilizing it for storing props and hiding behind. However, there are still a few things that I would improve on for our final performance. For example, when I said my first line, I hadn't planned the joke correctly. You see, the stepfather was talking about how Rapunzel was extremely ugly, so when it was my turn to speak, I made a joke about how Rapunzel still looked better than the step-father, but the joke was not clear as I didn't give many contexts to it. So, this was one of my mistakes. I also would've improved my acting through looking shocked at the appearance of Rapunzel in the very beginning of the performance. When the step-father stated that Rapunzel was eavesdropping on us, I didn't seem surprised and looked neutral about the fact that Rapunzel had been listening to us the whole time, when I should've been shocked that she was eavesdropping.

This is my critique on myself and my group for both the rough version and live performance.

Open Letter

To all those people who don't do work in group projects,

Please know that you are the cause of my suffering.

You couldn't do your part of the project yesterday? Oh, it was because your dog ate your homework, that totally makes sense! And you can't-do your assignment today either because your cat will eat your homework. Nor, will you do your work tomorrow because somehow your sofa will eat your homework! Wow, should I just play along with your lies? There are so many, I'd have to be a professional actress to keep up!

Did you read those twenty emails I sent you last night? As well as the reminders I set on your phone? Did you check your texts? Because despite all of my reminders, you seem to have not done your project. Again. Thank you so much for making me do all of the work! But that's just the sweet person you are at home. Let's not forget the kindness you constantly show in class. You are generous enough to talk to your friends instead of helping me. You are so kind, you want me to do our group project alone so that I can excel as a student and get all the practice I can get! Thank you!

Have I thanked you for signing my work with your name yet? Well, it's highly appreciated. Making me sleep at midnight, sleep deprived, must really make you happy since you do it so often. I just love being grumpy the whole day while you flaunt around happily. The teacher loves you now, I mean who wouldn't with your grades being suddenly perfect? I must've been hallucinating because while I was working in class, it almost seemed like you didn't do any work, I seriously thought that you were slacking off!

Well, that's all for now slackers. I just want to thank you again for causing me to suffer by not doing any work whatsoever. See you again next class!

From,
Everyone you've ever worked with in a group project.

Application Essay

28K

The sloppy muck clings onto my shoes like cement. My hands flail in front of me, grasping onto any branches within my reach. Each step is agony, the brown substance as sticky as glue, suctioning my neon orange sneakers to the ground. Soon the murky mud is splattered all over my shirt and shorts, the splotches reminders of my useless attempts to escape the treacherous grounds. Despair washes over me as my shoe becomes loose from my foot and sinks into the muck. My feet freeze as the cool liquid seeps through my socks and wedges in between my toes. The earthy wet scent wafts up my nose, trampling any dandelion thoughts I have. The sludge squeals, protesting against my movements as I cast my eyes forward and glimpse the vague outlines of my fellow walkers ahead, all of them successfully out of the mud and well on their way completing the 28k walk.

Images cloud my mind. I imagine the children in Cambodia as they hobble to get water from the wells. The realization almost seems laughable; that I am only aware of my privileged life shin deep in muck. I allow my feet to fall still and let my arms flop down beside to me. Taking a deep breath in, I let my mind wander.

Children in Cambodia have to trudge through muck and gritty grass in the scorching heat just to get water. And here I am, sauntering with civilization at my doorstep. The looming silver skyscrapers tower over me, the red and white flag of Singapore waves relentlessly, and I can even make out the medics with their first aid kits strolling ahead. I have already powered through 27 kilometers, I will continue. I motivate myself with thoughts of young children who walk 28 kilometers in Cambodia every day. I drive myself forward, propelling my mind to see the positivity in this walk rather than the negative thoughts that are holding me back. I channel that positive energy into my movements, now seeing the muck has a mere obstacle in the path of a hero's journey.

With renewed energy, I force my aching legs out of the mire. My terror subsides and all I feel is adrenaline, pumping through my blood, urging me to get out of this muck and to continue the walk. I wrench my legs out of the mud and back in, one step at a time, yanking them with increasing enthusiasm with every step. Finally, my soaked sneakers reach the hard, oh so beautiful ground. I stumble forward and begin sprinting towards my fellow walkers, attempting to catch up to them.

My knees are jelly and my feet are swollen, fat like a pumpkin, yet I run like a tornado, swirling past multicolored people and flowing past my friends. I run further and further away from everyone until I have finally made it to the front of the crowd.

160 people are behind me. 10 people are in front of me. 50 more meters till I finish the Walk for Water.

40m. 30m. 20m. 10m. 5m. 1m.

I bolt through the torn finish line, coming in 5th place. Confetti streams from the clouds, dancing over us. The sea of parents screams encouraging words over the shrieking upbeat pop music. My father presents me with a fresh Starbucks iced mocha, my favorite. The sugary chocolate mixed with the frothy milk melts on my tongue, the caffeine much welcomed in my exhausted body. So this is what victory tastes like. Pride swells inside me, warming every single bone in my body. I did it.

Life is tough. It will drag me down. Neglected problems will come back to haunt me and will pummel me till I drop. No matter where I go, there will always be issues I want to escape. There will always be puddles of malicious muck obstructing my path. That will never change. But, I will battle through the mud, just as I did a year ago. My mind will banish thoughts of negativity, driving only ideas of positivity, and my body will be strong enough to push me past my doubts until I have surpassed the obstacle. But, it is my heart that will pull me through. Just as I thought about the penniless children in Cambodia as I endeavored through the mire, I will think about those I can aid as I plow through my obstacles. I will always stride forward, I will wrestle through the choking muck, to my pride.

Note to the Reader

This writing was a stressful piece of work. Beneath this neat tidy work, there were weeks of mess and struggle. From thinking about a small moment, to actually writing, to finally editing it. There were a lot of things that needed to be done. Coming up with an enticing lead was the easy part, but finishing with a memorable ending? That part was definitely the most challenging. How do you end with a non-cliched, meaningful ending? That was the question that I kept asking myself, and sometimes I still do, but in the end, I think that I did a pretty good job patching up a meaningful ending. That was the hard part but the part that I loved was writing with sensory language. I am detailed writer already, so adding sensory language was the easy bit. I loved cooking up similes, metaphors and just writing with tons of details!

I want my reader to be able to see what I experienced. I tried to write as descriptively as I could so that my reader could imagine the emotions I felt and could understand the background I was in. To me, understanding and being able to see your character’s position is extremely important.  However, the message, of course, is the most essential part of the essay. I hope that my reader could understand how I grew as a person. How I learnt that the body, heart and mind have to work together to surpass an obstacle. How I understood that I have to battle through my problems. This is the message I want my reader to notice and my writing to convey.