Keys Kids Key West

Welcome to our 2011-2012 Season

We would like to share two letters from students who have been in Keys Kids Productions, Alex Miller, and Victoria Brasko:

I walk onto a glistening wooden stage. My heart is pounding louder and twice as fast as the
drum next to me. There’s enough sweat pouring from my hands to fill a small aquarium, and some of it is dripping to the floor. That must be why the stage looks so shiny. Various
instruments start playing a whimsical tune and my heart rate accelerates. Then I’m told
by a large, hairy fellow to run onto the stage. Once there, I’m met by a very tall man with
a hook for a hand, but that’s not the cause of my fear. In fact, I’d much rather go back
to the large, hairy fellow. The man on stage acknowledges me and then turns his attention to a sea of silhouettes. He starts singing along to the music as I fumble through a set of poses with similar looking people around me. After things quiet down, the man addresses the silhouettes with a speech. Then he asks my fellow dancers and I a question. We shake our heads. The man pulls out a gun with his good hand and aims it at my chest. I hear a “bang” from
somewhere in the distance as I fall to the floor with an awkward stumble.
Everything goes black, and I run towards my large, hairy friend.

I was twelve years old when I had my first and last encounter with the stage. It was
a local theater company’s, Keys Kids, production of Peter Pan. I starred as a pirate that was shot
by Captain Hook, but a pirate nonetheless. When I was first shoved into the world of theater by my
sister, I decided I’d audition for John Darling, the younger brother of Wendy. I arrived at the
auditorium, read a few scenes, and sang my best to the three or four contemplative directors that
were there. From their unanimous nodding, I could tell they liked me. But then, a realization struck
me: I could sing and dance perfectly for these few adults in the room, but could I address hundreds
of people the same way? The directors asked me which part I would prefer, and I told them I wanted
nothing more than a pirate.

Since the Peter Pan play, I’ve never had the audacity to speak or do anything outgoing in front of
a large group of people. I could be reciting a speech to my 8th grade class on why I’d make a good
President of Student Council, and all of a sudden I would gain a speech impediment. Or I could be
presenting a project on Pride and Prejudice to my AP Literature class, and forget the entire novel.
This timid personality of mine has also cursed my social life. Although many attractive women are
drawn to me by my dastardly good looks, they are repelled once they see what I’m like in a crowd of
people. Wherever I go, I’m followed by this ghost of what could have been, but what I couldn’t do.
I am, indeed, a lost boy.

This trend of shyness directed my life through high school until I decided to do something about it.
Track was starting up, and even though it wasn’t as crowded or as confrontational as a play, it was
a step in the right direction. Running in front of a group of spectators might not break my spell of
timidity, but it certainly would weaken it. I started running after school and was ready to start the
season when I caught news of the upcoming annual play: Charlie Brown. The news brought back the old
Peter Pan memories, but not a thought crossed my mind about auditioning for this play. I was walking
to the school’s running track one day when Mr. Murray, the theater director, walked up to me.
Surprisingly, he told me about the upcoming production and thought I should try out for the part of
Linus. The offer caught me off guard, but I was set on doing track and avoiding anything that had
to do with the stage. I declined the director’s offer and continued to the track. The thought of
doing another play racked my brain for days, until the chance to audition was finally over.

Days passed by, and I heard nothing of the Charlie Brown play. Intrigued, I went to Mr. Murray’s
room to see who received the main parts. I crept up to his door, making sure he wouldn’t come out
and see what I was doing, as he tapped me on the shoulder. For some reason, he thought I wanted
to audition, so he rushed me into his room before I could even utter a “no.” What happened next
still confuses me, because auditions were completely over. But, while I was still in a daze,
Mr. Murray stifled a song and a few lines from a script out of me. I received a “call-back”
the next day. The following days consisted of multiple talks with the director on why I couldn’t
do the play, but he insisted I make room in my busy schedule. After more and more debating, he
changed the schedule of the practices to allow me to do both track and theater. Astounded and
slightly excited, I accepted, and told him I’d do the play if I received a part.

The Keys Kids production of Charlie Brown is in a few months, starring yours truly as Charlie.
I’ll be acting and singing my heart out every day after school, right after track practice is over.
As clichéd as it sounds, ever since I received the lead role, I’ve felt as if my Peter Pan curse
has broken. I’m not a lost boy anymore. Now, I’m more like a Tinkerbell, but without wings, and much
more masculine.
Alex Miller – Graduate of KWHS Class of 2011

Hello Mrs. Revelin,
It has been a long time. I’m not sure if you remember me or not but my name is Victoria Brasko. I
lived in Key West for some time and was very active in the Key’s Kids productions. I am writing to
let you know that I am currently pursuing a life of music. I attend Shepherd University for music
education. You inspired me so much when I was younger that music is a part of my daily life and
activities. But when I moved away, I could never find a program as strong as the Key’s Kids to
keep on pursuing musical theater so I took up classical music on the clarinet. My goal is to one
day is to move to New York and play in the pit on Broadway before I settling in on a teaching career.
I’m so happy that the Key’s Kids are still going strong and you are still involved. It was nice
talking to you.
Victoria Brasko – Letter received September. 11, 2011

Thank You for making all things possible!
Nora Revelin, Executive Director & Cameron Murray, Artistic Director