Way back in 1994, when I was a bright-eyed and bushy-eyebrowed high school freshman, I tossed aside my successful career in athletics and decided it was time to take my life in a whole new direction. ACTING! To my luck and excitement, I tried out and made the team… crew… squad?! What’s a group of drama people called?! At the burgeoning acting age of 14, I was cast for a one-line role in the 1955 American hit, Inherit the Wind.

Prior to my acting début, I had high aspirations of being in front of the camera. I’m sure my parents can still quote the Pearle Vision commercial that I, for some unknown reason, memorized and “performed” on a daily basis for a good couple years. Say it with me, mom, “I was walking past Pearle or was it Pearle Express?” There’s also the radio commercial we heard on vacation in the 80s that we still say to this day: “Heyyyy, have ya hurd da newwws” (deep southern accent). I can only assume this is the standard childhood behavior of every future Hollywood starlet!

Strange how that 1980s TV commercial is branded into my deepest consciousness, yet I have no clue what my one line was in Inherit the Wind. What I can remember is my character’s name: Ms. Barrister. How do I – a person who fully acknowledges my horrible memory – know my character’s name? Simple. My titular role was that of a jury member, and being that the play is set in 1925, the jury was all men of course. Women’s brains weren’t capable of reasonable analysis and critical decision-making! So, my character was changed from Mr. Barrister to Ms. Barrister. Oh my! Wyoming High School was questioning gender ideology in the 90s! How pre-woke avant-garde!

I may not remember my one line, but what I do remember is that it was funny. I, Ms. Barrister previously known as Mr. Barrister, was the comic relief during a heated trial between religious fundamentalism and intellectual freedom! I alone provided a brief hiatus from the weighted argument of science vs religion for a moment of laughter. I tell you now friends, I felt the high. The haunted halls of Fey Auditorium rang with laughter, and I felt like I was on stage at 30 Rock performing my future SNL skit.

Sadly this play was my acting début AND my finale. As I continued to grow inches taller than my male counterparts, it was clear sports were more inline with my life potential than towering over men of below average height on the silver screen. But, as the fates would have it, there couldn’t have been a better singular play for my acting career.