I am an actor.

Performing has always been an important part of my life, and when I… I am an actor.

Performing has always been an important part of my life, and when I graduate from Pitt, I intend to pursue a career on the stage. Whenever I bring up my future life in show biz, I know that some of my horrified family members envision me freezing in New York City, living in a cardboard box and hanging out with drug dealers and prostitutes.

“Acting is fun,” they say. “But what are you really going to do?” I’m sure that most other artistic students with dreams of fame have also had to listen to a distraught family member begging them to consider a career in law, medicine or business – all sensible paths that will safely steer them away from the sex and rock ‘n’ roll of the performing arts.

But even though I had staunchly defended my career choice for many years, I still had a nagging doubt in the back of my mind. Could I really expect to make it in show business?

My reservations about a career in acting dissolved this summer when I traveled to Oxford to study with the British American Drama Academy.

Surrounded by daunting gothic architecture and impeccably kept English gardens, I learned about Shakespeare, physical comedy and vocal production. My days were spent in class with some of Britain’s finest actors and directors. My nights were spent figuring out iambic pentameter and memorizing lines. My friends and I formed a kind of support group for each other. The muse of theater had entranced us all, and we were determined to find a career doing what we loved.

During the course of the program, successful actors and directors were brought in to give us their views on acting. Some of them told us the same warnings we had been told repeatedly: “Acting is hard work,” and, “If you could picture yourself doing anything else, then don’t act.” Other guests, like Jeremy Irons and Alan Rickman, inspired us.

Both Irons and Rickman had started out in careers other than acting. Rickman had majored in studio arts before he found theater. He got a job as a stage manager while trying to break into the business. He still remembers having to rush around and pour tea for the actors whenever they got off stage. It was hard to imagine this man, famous for playing the cool and intimidating Professor Snape in the “Harry Potter” movies, ever pouring anybody’s tea.

Irons also found theater accidentally. Irons had originally planned on a career in social work. He applied for a job in a theater because it had sounded like a fun thing to do. He often had to clean people’s houses in order to make money while he was working toward his dream career. While Rickman gave us stories about the artistic joys of theater and told us to discipline ourselves, Irons was more casual.

“Good acting technique,” he said, “is like the panty line coming out of the top of a very tight pair of women’s jeans. You know she’s wearing knickers, but you don’t need to see them.” Irons gained many more fans that day as he joked about some of his roles in embarrassingly bad films, his motorcycle and women’s underwear.

While my teachers may have had different ideas on acting technique, they all seemed to agree on the same thing: Young people should follow their loves and passions. Deborah Warner, an award-winning British director, seemed to sum it up the best for us. “If you love acting, then act. Don’t wait for a job, just do it. Create theater and you will be fulfilled.”

If we’re doing what we love, then how can we fail?