Please pardon my picaresque musings, but an introduction wouldn’t be complete without some anecdotal humor. Since we briefly discussed our technology interests in class last week, I decided to use this space to talk about the development of my other academic interests.

I was born and raised in southern California. At that point in my life I had never been to New York City nor did I know anyone from the east coast, two facts that made it all the more unusual when I decided to spend several months of Kindergarten speaking with a New York accent. I do not remember the incident myself, but my mother maintains that my public school teacher, who had over forty years of teaching experience, thought it best for me to see a therapist. Since I was the third of four children and had always tended towards the dramatic, my mother insisted that it was a phase and would pass. The New York accent passed, my flare for the dramatic did not.

While growing up (and indeed, even to this day), my mother and grandmother actively consumed MGM movie musicals. Although not particularly enthralled by Judy Garland’s journey over the rainbow or Gene Kelly’s tap dance in the rain, my father was a musician and occasionally surprised us with a chorus by Lerner and Loewe or, even more unexpectedly, all four verses of Rado, Ragni, and MacDermot’s “Hair.” Since neither of my older siblings expressed any interest in musical performance, the responsibility fell on my six-and-a-half year old shoulders. And I like to believe that I rose to the occasion. I cherished music, and I adored performing—or, at the very least, I proudly carried the banner for middle children everywhere and adored being the center of attention. Yet despite my childhood dreams to make it big on Broadway and ensure my parents’ favoritism, my career in musical theatre peaked at the age of twelve when I played the Artful Dodger.

Upon entering high school two years later, I decided to get more “serious” about theatre, opting to establish myself in drama instead of choir. (Besides, my voice changed in junior high, and I never fully recovered.) Although I had success as an actor, I was never satisfied with my theatrical education, repeatedly challenging my instructor and her unrelenting insistence on class time being used to play improv games. Wanting my artistic opinions to be heard, I cultivated interests in both directing and scenic design early in my senior year, and since I wasn’t about to receive any satisfying instruction in my high school drama class, I applied to undergraduate theatre programs.

For the majority of my academic studies, both undergraduate and graduate alike, my own theatrical interests were heavily influenced by my mentors and advisors. I was quick to latch onto the passions of academics whom I admired, just as I had been quick to latch onto my parents’ passion for musical performances. Amongst my four undergraduate mentors in theatre and English departments, three were self-identified Shakespeareans and two were musical theatre enthusiasts. Perhaps it’s little wonder then that for several years I believed that I too wanted to be a Shakespearean scholar—as if I had something more to contribute to four hundred years of Shakespearean scholarship.

Now at the precipice of my academic career, my decision to pursue academic fields other than my long-time interests perhaps surprises me more than anyone else. My views on scholarship have grown, and I no longer believe that interest is the only factor that should attract a scholar to her or his work. Scholarship should contribute qualitatively to a discussion, and although my interests in Shakespeare and musical theatre persist, presently I do not feel as though my contribution to such fields would be anything beyond quantitative. If I want to produce worthwhile scholarship—and I do—I need to work in areas that don’t just pique my interest but that also challenge my artistic understanding of the theatrical medium.

Because my interest is in the theatrical experience, I want to pursue scholarship that confronts contemporary theatre practices and how practitioners continue to develop the art form. Over the last two years, I have become particularly engrossed by theatres of disability, specifically deaf theatre and the theatrical company Deaf West. Since I do not yet sign, my interest in such theatrical experiences is perhaps a bit Artaudian, yet I can’t deny my fascination with theatrical languages and the depth of the emotional expression contained within such performances. At this particular time, disability studies are taking off, and deaf performance has been largely ignored. But hopefully that will change before long.