The following Career Dispatches essay was written by musical theater actor Michael James Scott, who can currently be seen starring as Genie on Broadway in Disney’s “Aladdin.”
“You’re special—and if you don’t believe in the thing you have that is special and unique to you and only you, then no one else will and you’ll never fly.” I was sitting in an empty theater onstage in Paris with the legendary Ben Vereen when I heard these words. I didn’t believe them, and there was no way I could actually understand them at that time. But ultimately, these words changed my life and would help me tremendously later in my career.
Things really got started for me when my parents moved us out of Baltimore, Maryland. Not wanting their boys to become another Biddle Street statistic, they moved to Orlando, Florida, after my aunt ended up there when she got out of the military. I was 6 years old. Orlando was the land of theme parks, child actors, ’90s boy bands, and lots of chain restaurants. And I loved it.
My choir teacher (whom I call one of my “Earth angels”) saw something in me and convinced my parents to let her introduce me to this crazy exciting world of show business. I think as a child, there seemed like no boundaries. I was authentically myself, and the confidence of this little chubby chocolate kid who just wanted to perform for any and everybody really shined through. I think that was a major reason why I was a working child actor. Little did that little boy know, though, that he would need that feeling again later in life after feeling like he had lost himself.
READ: Broadway’s New Aladdin on Finding the Humanity in a Universally-Known Role
Once I was introduced to theater, I absolutely fell in love. There is nothing like the thrill of being onstage with a live audience in front of me. My path took me to the prestigious performing arts program at Dr. Phillips High School, where I found my tribe: theater nerds! I think back at my high school theater nerd family, and I remember thinking we’d be friends forever. And though I’m still very close to many of them, it was a really big blow when unlike the rest of my peers, I was not accepted to one of the major theater conservatory programs I applied to. Of course, at the time, it was the worst possible news! But it was a powerful lesson for me: Everyone’s path is different. Ultimately, I ended up exactly where I needed to be for college; it was there at Webster University in St. Louis, Missouri, that I was able to confront the issues I had with my body, with the doubt I had in myself, and to learn to fight to make my own way. I had felt like I lost myself and all the insecurities were a lot to deal with.
In the midst of this haze, I booked an incredibly scary job while in college. It was standing by for Vereen in the musical “Fosse”—and in Paris of all places! This man became a friend, a mentor, and another Earth angel, and it was he who said to me two things that changed it all for me. He said that showbusiness was a part of his life and not his life, and, “If you don’t believe in the thing you have that is special and unique to you and only you, then no one else will and you’ll never fly.”
The switch that happened for me then was unreal. My career started to move forward and things started happening, but still there was something missing. All of this didn’t make sense until much later in life. I think I was playing at this advice and not fully living in it. It was director Casey Nicholaw who thought I could step out of the chorus line to play the role of Genie in Disney’s Broadway show, “Aladdin.” Again, I was filling big shoes—not only because Tony winner James Monroe Iglehart is a size 15 shoe—but also the legacy of Robin Williams. I had a lot of self doubt trying to live up to an icon like him. But there wasn’t much time for that! As soon as I gave myself over to the role, I realized there was something about Genie that seemed tailor-made for the 6-year-old, chubby, chocolate kid that would entertain his family in their living room—the one who had limitless boundaries and was authentically being himself.
This was huge for me; I took it and ran. I started to bring this into auditions and meetings, and as I’m still growing and continuing to figure it all out, I’m seeing success and loving the full circle of coming back to authenticity.
In conclusion, I write this to say there’s an innocence and wonderment that comes with being a kid and remembering that feeling and giving yourself over to it. It’s worth trying to turn your cheek to the insecurities that plague us when we’re adults. Dare to be authentic. Dare to believe in the thing that you have that no one else does. Dare to be special.
Want to hear from more actors on their hard-fought journeys? Catch up on our Career Dispatches here!
