Today, we, like myself, either graduated from Brooklyn College or, like others, are celebrating the end of a semester. As I sat in the audience
I arrived to this institution with nothing more than an associate's degree and the knowledge that it's either stay in school or find a job in order to keep my health insurance. My mother was going in and out of the hospital for an ankle injury and, later, cancer, so my mind was elsewhere. Nobody prepared me for anything here so I went in undeclared (dumb move) and figured that I could switch to another, more convenient major by taking random courses and seeing what I liked best.
Then, on August 31st, two days into my first semester, my mother passed away. I was a wreck. I stopped eating. I stopped taking care of myself. I stopped caring, period. I tried my damnedest to push back the pain by diving into my studies. But it wasn't enough. I wanted it all to end. I wanted to give up. I wanted to disappear.
I wanted to stop.
Two semesters in and, after finding help in the counseling center, I realized I was doing more harm to myself than good. And so, I returned to a familiar world: Theatre.
Ever since I made the decision to return to majoring in theatre, I've become more knowledgeable in the field in all aspects of it: History, technical, acting. I soaked in every second of it because I knew that I would never get this chance again (at least, not for a while). This was especially beneficial because I was beginning to see just how unorganized and unprofessional the theatre company I'm with now was... and still is.
But what's most important is the connections I've made with everyone involved in the department: The BAs, the BFAs, the MFAs, the professors (some of whom believed I was a BFA actor), staff members, the whole nine yards. All of you are much more than friends to me. You are my family. You are the people I want and love to be around, where we can joke about the most random things ("You have GOT to be kidding me!"), share personal stories, and just be close with one another. It is a feeling that I so very rarely experience in my career, and it made me remember that it is true: We have no time for enemies in this business. It's why the next time I see someone who acts like a diva, I'm going to tell them to write everything they know on the back of their hand, to see if they really do know everything like the back of their hand.
I am going to cherish the friendships and connection I've made with everyone. You have changed my life for the better.
You all have saved my life.
I wish everyone lots of luck, love, and lollipops in their future endeavors and be prepared for the koala hug I will give you the next time we meet.
Thank you all for everything.
I love you all,
Chris Weiss
(That guy who was always on the floor in the hallway)