Winnie Ellison

Winnie Ellison – March 6, 2016 6:32 AM

The Dream Sentinel gave our play five out of five stars. There were lines around the building every single night for our entire run. Every night for four straight months, we performed to sold out, standing room only crowds. I was just happy to be part of such an incredible cast. When I auditioned, I never thought I’d make it to a callback. Being a part of the production was the furthest thing from my mind. When I came to the first rehearsal and met the other ladies, I swear I almost fainted. I was running lines with Sandra Hoppings and Nina Simmons and Jen Bendle. I’m only 26 years old and fresh out of drama school and being directed by Kim Alonzo. It was a career peak at the beginning of my professional life. An entire play casted with and directed by women of color was unheard of at the time and I was a part of that history.

I remember one of the performance nights I was pulled aside by a stage manager who said someone wanted to see me. At this point, the show was two months into its run and already an international hit. We had everyone who is anyone do anything they can to come see a show. It was nothing to look out into the crowd before you took the stage and see someone so famous, you would have thought they weren’t actually real life humans. I was used to seeing those people at this point. I didn’t even get star struck anymore. It’s amazing how quickly you can get spoiled by something you thought was only a dream a few weeks before.

Anyway, the stage manager pulls me aside and says someone wants to speak with me before the show. I’m in my serious actor mood and tell the stage manager that I don’t want to be bothered. If they want to see me, they can wait until I change after the performance like the other VIPs. I’m embarrassed to tell you that was my response but it was. I was feeling myself.

Thankfully, the stage manager doesn’t blink an eye when I try to wave her off and she says “No, you’re gonna wanna meet this person.”

I say that I can care less who it is but she insists so finally I give in and say “Fine, bring them to my room. They have 5 minutes.”

The stage manager chuckles and walks away and as soon as she exits the room, in walks The Oracle in all her regal glory. She must have been standing right outside the door and I’m absolutely sure she heard everything but she was so gracious that she didn’t show it. I swear the lights flickered as she came in and everything felt warm and tingly. I opened my mouth to apologize for making her wait and tried to throw my stage manager under the bus for not telling me it was her waiting but she cut me off with a delicate finger in the air.

“Hush. I’m proud of the girl,” she said.

I’m proud of the girl. Can you believe that? I was being a brat and she stops my apologizing to say she was proud of me. I almost broke down in tears. She sat down next to me and held my hand and told me she couldn’t stay for the show but she wanted me to know that I was doing something noble. She said she wanted to be an actress when she was younger and she looked up to Jen Bendle just like me. She told me to break a leg and then got up to leave. The whole thing must have last two minutes tops. I don’t think I even said anything, I was so floored.

That night, I had the worst performance I had throughout the entire run. I couldn’t get out of my own head and I couldn’t stop think about the Oracle. But it was worth it. I was apart of a special moment in Pangea theatre history and that was great. But having an audience with the Oracle is my proudest memory of the entire thing. Nothing comes close.