The final curtain call
An ode to the Motyer-Fancy theatre and drama program at Mt. A
When I first arrived at Mt.A, I thought I knew exactly who I wanted to be. Starting a new chapter is daunting and in the face of that uncertainty, it is natural to search for smaller spaces where you can feel a sense of belonging. Like many first-year students, I placed myself neatly into a category and I expected to remain there until graduation. In trying to simplify my experience, I unknowingly made myself smaller.
I began my time at Mt. A as a member of the women’s varsity volleyball team. Being a Mountie brought me lasting friendships, meaningful memories, and a strong sense of community, while getting to play the sport I loved at a high level. I valued that experience deeply, and look forward to returning to volleyball in the fall. At the same time, I felt there was an unspoken rule attached to being a student-athlete, that came with an expectation of what that identity should look like. It echoed a familiar narrative, where pursuing multiple disciplines is framed initially as a contradiction rather than a possibility. To me, the idea that you had to be one or the other felt quietly reinforced.
That perception shifted in October of my first year, when I attended my first production at the Motyer-Fancy Theatre (MFT): The Wolves by Sarah DeLappe, directed by Valmai Goggin. Until that moment, my understanding of theatre had been rooted in spectacle. Like many others, I expected large-scale productions, heightened emotion, and a sense of escape. The Wolves challenged that entirely. There were no elaborate musical numbers or overt theatricality. Instead, it presented something far more striking, an unapologetically human story. The characters spoke over one another, the staging was unconventional, and the narrative followed a group of teenage girls simply navigating the everyday complexities of their lives. It was a beautiful display of theatre that felt messy, flawed, and deeply real. I saw myself reflected onstage, and that recognition stayed with me.
I went on to become an active audience member, watching productions like An Inspector Calls, 7 Stories, and Drowning Girls. By the end of my second year, I was bursting with curiosity and I found the courage to audition. I knew I did not fit the conventional mold, but that was quickly proven to be irrelevant. I was immediately welcomed into a department that valued perspective, curiosity, and individuality. Over time, I had the opportunity at the MFT to perform for stage in five mainstage productions and write an original one-act play. With each project I came to understand the importance of grounding characters in their humanity. Every character carried fragments of my own experiences, shaped by growth, uncertainty, and change. In portraying others, I gained a clearer understanding of myself.
Throughout this journey, I worked with faculty who both challenged and supported students equally. They created an environment where exploration was encouraged and failure was simply another draft in the process. I was held to a high standard, one that prepared me not only academically but also professionally. Equally important were the peers I had the opportunity to collaborate with. Their generosity and openness fostered a space of trust where we all were able to openly create. As a class, we learned the value of accountability, resilience, and support in both success and failure.
As I prepare to take my final bow, alongside the many accomplished drama students in my class, I encourage current and future Mt.A students to embrace taking up space. University, and life beyond it, does not require you to fit in a specific mold or expectation. The arts, drama in particular, exist to reflect the complexity of real life. A life that embraces contradiction, imperfection, and growth. You can move between disciplines, redefine your interests, or step between spaces that may feel unfamiliar. A door will never close until you choose to close it yourself.