Dare To Be Successful

by John Barrett Hawkins

Dear Mr. Benson: June 1, 1995

  Well, another year has passed and, believe it or not, the girl who was once headed for juvenile hall has actually graduated from high school. I’ve been looking forward to writing this letter, because it’s been an interesting year for me.

  In my last letter I mentioned that I was considering a career as a dancer. Once I was certain that this would be my path, I sat down to map the journey. You advised your students to set audacious goals. Mine’s to be a big star on the Broadway stage. Once I wrote down that objective, I contemplated all of the steps that I’d have to take to get there. At first I was a little confused about exactly what I needed to do, so I referred to my Principles of Grace folder for some ideas and direction. I began by interviewing various people associated with my goals—professional dancers, choreographers, theater directors and producers. I was amazed at how easy it was to get advice from people when you ask questions concerning a subject about which they’re passionate. This gave me lots of good insight with a couple of common themes: Go to college and practice, practice, practice.

  Once I had a clearer picture of what I needed to do, I bought myself an organizer and developed a weekly plan and a daily schedule. I started every day at 5:00 a.m. with a morning practice. First, I’d read the goals that I’d written down, and then I visualized myself on stage. The visualization was easy for me because I enjoy fantasizing about what my life will be like as a star on Broadway. Next, I said a prayer, asking God for the vision and wisdom to let me serve others through my passion for dancing. Then, I’d dance for a full hour before school, clearing my mind of all other thoughts and simply meditating on the motion of my body. This actually helped me focus on my schoolwork, because I needed outstanding grades to get into a top university. After school I worked out with the dance team for an hour and then went straight to a professional dance studio where I took classes and learned many different dance styles. It was an exhausting schedule, but I made sure that I ate right and got eight hours of sleep every night.

  Getting into a top university isn’t easy. There’s a lot of competition. I did everything that I could think of to enhance my chances. I got straight A’s on my report card for the first time, and scored exceptionally high on the SATs. I also persuaded a professional television producer to help me develop a video presentation. It contained material from the dance team, my big scene from the play at the amphitheater and a testimonial where I spoke into the camera about my intentions. I e-mailed the video to the heads of the theater department at twenty different universities, asking for an admissions recommendation. I was delighted to receive twelve written letters of recommendations from university professors. I packaged those letters with my video and applied to the top three performing arts schools. All three accepted me, but the big news is that I was offered a full-ride scholarship at Julliard in New York City, the number-one performing arts school in the country! I’m so excited! I know I’m going to become a big star on Broadway, and I owe it all to you and the Principles of Grace.

  I want you to know that I’ll never forget the time you spent tutoring me after school on Fridays. It must’ve been frustrating to work with a student who had such a bad attitude. I’d get an F on a homework assignment, but instead of treating me as a poor student you’d say, “I expect better from you, Grace. You’re a bright young lady with unlimited potential.” You also taught me how to study and prepare for a test. I didn’t like it at first because I thought it was a waste of time. But then I got an A on one of your Life Science tests and everything changed. I walked on air all the way home that day and promised myself that I’d work hard to become a good student. Now I’m a high school graduate with a college scholarship. I’m beginning to believe that I am that bright young lady you envisioned and that I do have unlimited potential. I want to thank you for helping me realize that.

  With warmest regards,

  Grace Gilmore

  Dear Mr. Benson: July 21, 1996

  My initial year at Julliard has certainly been an adventure. The first few months were difficult. I really missed my family and friends, especially my boyfriend, Joe. He won a football scholarship to UCLA, and since I was moving to New York, we decided to break up. It was so painful. He was my first real boyfriend and I loved him so much. I didn’t think that I’d miss him, but I’ve never been so wrong. We were together every single day for three years. I miss him more than you could ever imagine.

  I brought my Principles of Grace folder to New York and it’s helped me with the transition. For the first few months I focused on cultivating positive energy. I decorated my dorm room in an uplifting way, with posters associated with my goals and photos from home, especially of Joe, even though we are no longer in touch. I found this really cool Website that sends me their Inspirational Quote of the Week, which I read before bedtime and first thing in the morning. I’ve tried to commune with nature as much as possible, but it’s not easy in New York City. I go to Central Park as often as I can. When I watch TV, it’s exclusively comedy, and the laughter does lift my spirits. I also got into the practice of reading biographies about successful performing artists. These books seem to help my confidence when things aren’t going so well.

  This year I also worked on eliminating negative energy. Addressing my egocentric behavior was easy, because everyone here at the school is so talented. Unfortunately, most of them are also really full of themselves. I’ve tried to let go of the need to judge others, but I find it hard to be around people who think they’re better than me. Maybe that’s because most of them are better dancers than I am. I didn’t anticipate that. At my high school I was considered to be the best dancer, but here I’m not even in contention. I auditioned for several different parts in school productions and wasn’t selected for any of them. Avoiding people who cause me stress is also difficult. I have a really mean professor who seems to be nasty to everyone. I send him a silent prayer whenever I see him, but I don’t believe it’s working. Do you think that some people are just plain evil? I’ve also avoided the party scene which is really big here. This has made me a kind of goody-two-shoes outcast, but I don’t care. I’m not going to compromise my values just to fit in.

  I spend most of my time trying to “nurture my gifts,” as you used to say. I practice dancing by myself in front of a mirror for hours every day. I really love doing this, exploring my potential as a dancer, expressing my creativity and devising a style all my own. Whatever emotion I’m feeling can be communicated through the motion of my body. It’s such an ethereal feeling. When it’s flowing effortlessly, I feel transported to another world. All of my earthly concerns disappear, and I really do become one with my purpose. It’s such a high, physically and emotionally. Afterward, I always feel this incredible sense of relaxation and serenity.

  When I was in your class you once said, “There’s something very special that you were born to do. If you follow your heart, Grace, you can accomplish anything you set your mind to.” I want you to know that statement has had an enormous impact on me. You believed in me, and that belief continues to be a great source of inspiration that I can draw on whenever I’m feeling down. So, thanks again, Mr. Benson, for believing in me and for being a guiding light in my life.

 

  Warmest regards,

  Grace Gilmore

  Dear Mr. Benson: June 16, 2000

  Let me begin with an apology for not writing for the past four years. I had set the precedent of sending you a letter at the end of each school year and should’ve kept up with that practice. The truth is that it was easy to write when things were going good in my life, but when I didn’t quickly achieve my goal of becoming a Broadway star, I felt like I had let you down. I really believe in all of the things that you taught us, but I just didn’t foresee it being so difficult.

  I’m pleased to report
that I graduated from college with a degree in academic excellence. However, my aspiration of setting the New York theater world on fire just hasn’t happened. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea; I’ve not given up on my dream and I’m still trying. I’m just not experiencing any success, and no matter how hard I try, I’m not the type of person who can detach from the outcome. The vision I have of being a professional dancer is etched into my brain. I simply can’t imagine any other occupation.

  Of course, my life’s not all bad—just my career. During my college years I developed a support team that consisted of six people who’re all pursuing various performing arts vocations. We used the Principles of Grace syllabus as our starting point, and I’ve enjoyed sharing what things I learned from you with my new friends. We meet once a week and support one another in our ongoing quests. A couple of people from the group have recently enjoyed some success, and it’s rewarding to be a part of it; although, I admit that I experienced some jealousy. I know that I’m supposed to eliminate negative emotions, and I try, but it’s not always easy.

  One of the things I did during my second year of college was to seek out an influential mentor. I wrote letters to all of the top Broadway choreographers offering to do anything—even mop the stage—in exchange for an opportunity to learn more about my craft. One of them, a man named Thomas Jones, accepted my offer. I’ve been working for him for three and a half years as a “special assistant,” but it seems like the only thing I ever do is mop and wax the stages. He allows me to audition for every show he’s involved in, but the directors always seem to have some reason for choosing another girl. I know that I shouldn’t complain, because Mr. Jones also allows me to rehearse with the cast. By doing so I’ve learned much and met some fascinating people. It just hasn’t been what I’d hoped for. I’m a bit disillusioned about the concept of a mentor relationship.

  I continue to be very persistent. I’ve auditioned for sixty-five different roles and have not landed one. You’d think that I’d get the hint, but I’m not giving up. So, I lead the life of the proverbial starving artist. I live in a shoebox-sized apartment with six other women, and I never have any money. Financial security is a foreign concept to me. I’m sure that at some point I will consider other types of work, but I have to keep trying for at least another year or so.

  My life has been harder than I ever imagined it’d be. The constant rejection can be depressing, yet my passion for dancing somehow seems to keep me going. In a very real sense, dancing’s become a part of “who I am.” Whenever I’m feeling down, I go back to Julliard, find an empty studio and practice. Once I start dancing I become fully absorbed in the music and motion of my body. I lose contact with all of the unpleasant things going on in my life and become one with my art. It’s become a form of meditation. My mind doesn’t wander when I’m practicing. I don’t think about anything else. I just do what I love to do. I guess you could say that endless practice is my way of embracing the journey.

  So, there you have it. The life of Grace Gilmore isn’t very exciting. I wanted so much to be able to write and tell you that I’d made it. The things you taught me played such an important role in helping me turn my life around. So please, don’t ever forget that your work’s very important and that you’ll always be my all-time favorite teacher.

  With warm regards,

  Grace Gilmore

  Dear Mr. Benson: May 29, 2001

  The last letter I wrote to you wasn’t very upbeat and I didn’t express much self-confidence. I promise that this one will be much more positive. I’ve learned some important lessons during the last year, regarding loyalty and following my intuitive intelligence that I’m eager to share with you.

  Let me begin with loyalty. In my last letter I mentioned that I was disappointed in my choreographer mentor, Thomas Jones. I’m embarrassed (and pleased) to say that I spoke too soon, because he came through for me in the most incredible way. About six months ago he got a job on a new Broadway play called “Last Dance for Lillian,” and, as usual, he allowed me to audition. I didn’t get the part, but I once again agreed to take a job mopping and waxing the stage. Again, he allowed me to rehearse with the cast and I practiced every dancer’s part on my own time. Then, two days prior to opening night, the actress who was playing Lillian, the female lead, walked out in a contract dispute and the understudy sprained her ankle. Thomas recommended me to the director, and I got the job.

  “Last Dance for Lillian” is a romance, similar to “West Side Story” in that the male and female leads are from rival families and different backgrounds. It’s not a musical in the classic sense, but more of a drama with lots of dancing. When I first read the script, I had one of those inner knowing feelings that you used to tell us to stay attuned for. The role of Lillian just spoke to me. It wasn’t so much that I liked the character but more a pronounced feeling as I read the play. I kept “seeing” myself on stage in the role of Lillian, which in itself was strange, because I never audition for such parts — too many lines to memorize. I think of myself as a dancer not an actress. However, that inner voice was so strong that I decided to study all of the Lillian character’s lines. Because of that preparation, I got the part. I followed my intuitive intelligence, and now I’m the happiest woman on the planet.

  Opening night was a strange combination of excitement and absolute paralyzing fear. My entire adoptive family flew to New York just to see the show. As you might recall, I have seven brothers and sisters. When we arrived at the theater and they saw “Starring Grace Gilmore” on a huge illuminated sign, my family went crazy. Everyone was hugging and kissing me and telling me how proud they were. It was like a dream right up until an hour before the curtain call. Then, I became anxious that I’d forget some of my lines. I started trembling so bad that I couldn’t stand. I asked everyone to leave the dressing room, and I meditated for twenty minutes, visualizing a flawless performance. It must’ve worked, because once the performance started, I was in the zone. I couldn’t believe how well it went. The last scene was a dance solo and I received a standing ovation that seemed to last forever.

  The next day a review in the New York Times said, “Grace Gilmore is the next big thing on Broadway.” Can you believe it? The show ran for six weeks and was sold out every night. Then we were booked for a nationwide tour. We traveled to a different city every week for twenty-five weeks. We did four performances Thursday through Sunday and traveled by bus at the beginning of the week. I love my life so much!

  Now for the best part! When we performed in Los Angeles, a big-time movie producer thought that the show was fantastic and bought the film rights. Now his company is developing a movie script based on the play, and guess who’s going to play Lillian? Me!! I signed the contract yesterday, and they’re paying me three hundred thousand dollars. We start shooting next month.

  Mr. Benson, I’ve said it before and I must say it again: YOU ARE THE GREATEST TEACHER EVER. Thanks to the things I learned from you, I’m living a dream. I can never thank you enough for helping me turn my life around. Keep doing the things you do. Your work’s very important.

 

  With warm regards,

  Grace