Upon my arrival at UT, I immediately noticed the way people carried themselves. As I made my way down Speedway, I silently gawked at their confidence and admired the way they would move with ease. Everyone seemed so sure of themselves, and there I was, awkwardly walking around the school I had begged to get into. However, no matter how hard I tried to mimic their demeanor, I felt like I was stepping into a world that already had its rhythm, and I was a beat behind.
That sense of being out of sync made me pay closer attention to the people around me. Among my numerous observations, I noticed the way theater students moved with a kind of confidence that seemed almost effortless, but could it be rehearsed? The world of theater strives for precision, but did they leave room for awkward imperfections?
Somewhere along my train of thought, I began to question what confidence truly meant. Perhaps it wasn’t about perfection at all; maybe the stumbles and pauses that align themselves with awkwardness aren’t meant to be hidden, but rather embraced. In a culture where everyone seems sure of themselves, awkwardness may actually be a secret site of authenticity, connection and even creative possibility.
“A lot of arts programs, particularly ones that deal with acting, will try to get you to strive for perfection or this ideal image,” acting sophomore Connor Davis said. “But here at UT … it’s just looked on as part of who you are.”
As I spent more time on campus, my fascination with the theater world grew. I’d occasionally pass by students rehearsing their lines, and each time I would become entranced with their ability to fill their voices with such vivid emotion. Not just that, but I instantly became hypnotized by the way they would use their bodies in such a way that exuded boldness and unapologetic charisma.
I had always associated a level of perfection and certainty with UT, but here lies a group that was unafraid to be seen, even when they weren’t perfect. On stage, mistakes aren’t hidden; they’re transformed. A missed cue becomes a moment of improvisation, a forgotten line turns into a pause filled with meaning.
“We as human beings are inherently messy and inherently not perfect,” Davis said. “And I think that’s what makes human beings so interesting.”
The more I observed, the more I realized how life itself mirrors theater. We’re all performing in some way, testing out versions of ourselves under different spotlights. However, it appears that theater students know something that we have yet to comprehend: confidence isn’t the absence of awkwardness, it’s the ability to stay present within it.
“(We) have the experience of knowing everyone’s human,” said Barbara Chisholm, a lecturer in the Department of Theatre and Dance. “That’s what we forget, (and) we sometimes get so in our head.”
I began to think that maybe we’re the leading roles in our own play, stepping into unfamiliar roles, fumbling through scenes we’re not completely comfortable with. The only difference is, some of us have to accept the unexpected pauses and missed lines that make a performance real.
Instead of viewing awkwardness as a liability, students should consider reclaiming it as a creative lens. Within the grounds of imperfection, we could lean into its authenticity and learn how to navigate its space. Using tools like improvisation and applying them outside of the stage could benefit those struggling to get out of their heads.
Huerta is a government junior from Victoria, Texas.
