If my life for the past three weeks were the series of the phrases I heard most frequently… If my life for the past three weeks were the series of the phrases I heard most frequently during that time period, it would sound like this:

“Maria, I can’t find my cane.”

“Have you seen a brown jacket?”

“I need microphone tape!”

“Zip me up, zip me up.”

“OK, Maria, cue the band.”

“Move, move, move.”

“I want some water.”

“I need microphone tape!”

“Help me, help me, please.”

“Curtain!”

“Where’s the table?”

“I need microphone tape!”

At times I feel like Cinderella, hiding in the shadowy ashes, laboring away without much appreciation or regard so that others can be glamorously admired and adored. No one is supposed to hear me. I’m not supposed to verbally respond to most of the requests, commands, demands or questions that I receive. I’m just supposed to get whatever needs to be done accomplished — without complaint or any indication of a negative attitude.

When everything around me seems to be whirling around in a frantic, tornado-style debauchery, I have to remain calm.

Once in a while, someone says “thank you” or “good job.” But mostly, I am passed by as people rush off to their next important task. I am left to pick up the unintentional mess they left behind.

I’m no one’s mother. I’m no maid either. I am the assistant stage manger for Kuntu Repertory Theatre’s production of “Jelly’s Last Jam.”

Since the stage manager also has to run the lights from the back of the theater, I remain backstage with the 21-member cast, eight-piece band, two or three costume dressers, and the very talented designer and two stagehands.

The roughly two-and-a-half hour performance requires an enormous set, quick and difficult scene changes and more than 60 props. If it weren’t for those infrequent visits to the gym, I might not be able to move a piano, tables and chairs, an 8-by-5-foot picture frame and a bar on and off stage in the allocated four to eight seconds I am given for each transition. Of course, I have help, but it’s frankly not enough, and the responsibility is primarily mine.

Ever since I met Kuntu’s artistic director, Vernell Lillie, I have wanted to work with the theatre company. I believe in the impact Kuntu can make — and has made — through its intent to examine Africana life from a sociopolitical-historical perspective and to combine the salient features of theatre.

Founded in 1972 for the purpose of presenting the works of Rob Penny, artist-in-residence and professor in the Africana Studies department before his passing in 2003, Kuntu took on an ambitious goal this season: four productions of Broadway musicals.

So I should have known when I showed up for the second week of rehearsal that I was in for a test of my patience and very character.

Carissa Dollar posted “A Handbook for Stage Managers” on her Geocities Web site after her experience in the position. She writes, “There is no single definition or job description for the tasks performed by the person who accepts the title of stage manager for any theatrical production.” So, the individual who accepts this position must be as flexible as the job description itself.

According to Actor’s Equity Association (AEA), the union of both professional actors and stage managers, the stage manager calls all rehearsals before or after opening. Stage managers also assume active responsibility for the form and discipline of rehearsal and performance and are the executive instruments in the technical running of each performance. Thank goodness, as assistant, I had less of a role in the real technical duties.

But I am not exempt from other responsibilities, such as maintaining the artistic intentions of the director and producer after opening and keeping any records necessary to inform the producer of cast members’ attendance.

I consider myself a decent person. There are those moments when my temper flares, and my inner child gives way to the demanding jerk that lurks within me. But, generally speaking, I thought I was a nice girl, much like any a good guy would find next door and hope to date for a week or two. Being the assistant stage manager has forced me to rethink my perceived self-image, as any worthwhile experience should.

It is such a humbling experience.

While the actors are applauded and the director praised, I blend in with the scenery that I am consequently responsible for managing. It really puts life into perspective and quickly removes any pedestal I might have been inclined to put myself on as a graduating senior.

I’ve always been a supporter of performing arts. My first love is dance, and that appreciation has spread to musical theatre and musical performances of all kinds and drama. And it wasn’t until I worked backstage that I really understood how much work goes into putting on a show.

Sure, I knew all about the long hours that performers put into rehearsals, but I had no clue about the drama that goes on behind the scenes.

Still, I wouldn’t give up the experience. It’s been trying and tumultuous at times, but I wouldn’t end my college experience any other way.