Tell me about someone who was a true teacher for you.

Syd was my high school theater teacher, and she played favorites. Oh boy, did she play favorites. It was a good introduction into the theater world---it's all about who you know---and it was a lesson I learned quickly. I also learned that if I went to class, kept auditioning, and tried to apply what she was teaching us, sooner or later it would pay off and she would cast me in a play. It didn't work for everyone, though. Syd still had her favorites.

Syd taught me everything I know about auditioning and performing and theater: Don't audition with a song from the show, but sing something in the same style; don't come dressed in costume; always have a resume; always be prepared to sing a second song if requested (and I was, once); always, always, ALWAYS come on time to rehearsals; as soon as something is blocked, it should be memorized; rehearsal lasts until you're done; the second night of a show is always the hardest; never touch the props unless they are yours; your call time is five minutes before your call time; it's okay to have fun while working really hard; and the director is always right, but can be open to suggestion.

Syd also taught me about stories. She told us, "There are no small parts, only small actors. Every character has a story to tell." We were there to tell a story, every one of us. It didn't matter if you were Onlooker #3 or Jean Valjean, you were still important because you were part of the story. Every show I did with her meant something more than just the choreography or costumes or music. She taught us that the power of stories is in how they can change your life.

Syd died a year after I graduated from high school. It was a blood clot after some surgery, and just like that she was gone. She was brilliant; she knew theater; she loved her students; she was tyrannical; she was lazy; she played favorites; she played jokes on us; she was our mother, our director, our boss, our friend, our teacher.