I was an observant and empathetic kiddo. I gleaned quickly who the smartest kids were. These were the kids sent to “Enrichment” classes once a week. I was not placed into their group. Even then, I’m not sure why I felt such shame over being perfectly normal.
Editor's Note: Joey Parsons is co-host of the thebigda Podcast, where she and Dan Abbate explore authenticity, creativity, personal growth, and the often messy journey of becoming who we're meant to be.
Many of us spend our lives chasing achievement, approval, and certainty. Along the way, we often trade creativity for compliance and authenticity for acceptance. Looking back, I realize one lesson from first grade stayed with me far longer than anyone could have imagined. It wasn't a lesson about reading or math. It was a lesson about coloring inside the lines.
The Day I Learned to Stay Inside the Lines
On the first day of first grade, we were all asked to draw a self portrait. A bucket of brand new crayons was placed at the center of the table, and I snapped up a purple and yellow. I drew myself wide-smiled happy, holding a yellow daisy, my face so big, it surpassed the boundaries of the page.
Our masterpieces were collected, filed away, and forgotten. On to assessing our reading and math skills. We were divided into groups.
I was an observant and empathetic kiddo. I gleaned quickly who the smartest kids were. These were the kids sent to “Enrichment” classes once a week. I was not placed into their group. Even then, I’m not sure why I felt such shame over being perfectly normal.
While my parents encouraged me to do my best, I had no one cracking a whip at home. I had the good fortune to be born into a family that simply wanted me to be happy. I excelled at anything artistic and creative, crafty and musical. And I worked hard to move myself up, reading group, by reading group, till I was just below the smartest kids.
When Fear Becomes a Motivator
Still, I felt a lot of panic. Constantly. There were… expectations within my class. My first grade teacher would isolate and admonish Bobby Dogherty whenever he colored outside the lines. Which was always. Little Miss Observant here instantly gleaned that stepping outside of expectations meant solitude and disappointment. Too many wrong answers on a math test meant drilling during recess instead of playing with friends or during an art lesson, the sternest punishment of all.
I worked hard to keep up because I was afraid of being left behind and alone.
How We Learn to Shrink Ourselves
On the last day of first grade, we were asked to again draw a self portrait, this time with a bucket of well-worn-throughout-the-year crayons. We were given our first day portraits to compare and contrast and see how much we’d grown and developed our skills.
My completed portraits side by side were indeed different as could be. My first day, giant smiling purple face compared to… lines more precise, colors carefully chosen. I’d methodically drawn my whole person, in the center third of the page. Blank white threatening to consume me from all sides.
It was indeed, more skillful.
But… I’d made myself so small. Where was the joy of that first-day portrait? The abandon? The joie de vivre?
Fear of being punished or ridiculed for coloring outside of the lines kept me IN line. In order to belong, it felt safer to play by the rules. Lately, I’ve thought a lot about those first-day, last-day self-portraits. Within the span of one school year, I’d learned how to perfectly box myself in. I’ve been doing it ever since.
The Hidden Cost of Being an Overachiever
As a pretty typical overachiever, I checked all the boxes. I took all the dance classes, all the acting classes. Straight A’s and B’s. I attended mind-blowing summer theater camps. I got my BFA and went straight on to earn my MFA. I moved to one of the cultural centers of the world and pounded the pavement for decades. I’ve cultivated a good reputation.
Success Doesn't Always Come From Following the Rules
However, I’m starting to wonder where I might be now had I not adhered to everything I’ve been told about proper etiquette in this industry. What if I hadn’t stayed within the confines of what the industry says is correct?
I’ve taken countless pay-for-play casting director classes. I have always behooved advice bestowed by industry professionals. The advice was rarely about coloring outside the lines and often had an overtone of “just don’t do anything to piss off the casting director.” Yet so many of the success stories I hear about have to do with someone stepping outside the lines and refusing to be ignored. What if the very strategy that has “protected” me is now limiting me?
That question extends beyond acting.
How many of us are living inside boxes we created years ago? How many opportunities have we quietly talked ourselves out of because they didn't fit the script? How many parts of ourselves have we edited down to become more acceptable, more polished, more predictable?
These are the kinds of conversations we often explore on thebigda : podcast —the tension between who we are and who we think we're supposed to be.
This piece is part of Clotine’s ongoing exploration of work, identity, and ownership in a changing creative economy.
Finding My Way Back to the Giant Purple First-Grader
Covid times shifted in person casting to self-tapes and we’re never going back. I don’t enjoy watching myself on tape and yet having to become my own director, cinematographer, and editor have released me some from the headiness that comes with my approach to acting.
A bigger picture has emerged as I’ve been forced to watch my own submissions the last several years. I’m technically proficient. Quality. Solid. I serve roles well. But now that I’m auditioning alongside hundreds of self-tapes rather than twenty in person appointments, how can I make an otherwise “let’s-just-move-this-story-along” detective into something a little more surprising? Rather than trying to fit into the confines of every other detective I’ve seen on every other procedural, how can I make this one unique?
I’m not talking about making wildly inappropriate choices or shock value. I just want more of my sweet first-day-of-first-grade giant purple self to enter the picture. Maybe messier. But certainly grander…
Continue the Conversation
At Clotine, we're fascinated by people who choose authenticity over approval, curiosity over convention, and growth over comfort.
If this story resonated with you, you may also enjoy listening to thebigda : podcast
What parts of your life have been carefully colored inside the lines—and what might happen if you gave yourself permission to draw a little bigger?
