Courtesy Julia Diamond Julia Diamond (COL ’02) demonstrating one of her other artistic talents.

We all think that when that last class lets out or that last paper is handed in there should be bells ringing or fireworks overhead because we are now free after four years of intense schedules and commitments and all-nighters. Free! Yes!

But what does that mean? Free from what? And it is really worth celebrating? I myself am an activity junkie. Yes, my name is Julia and I am a junkie. I am going to miss in some twisted way my world of Dominos at 3 a.m., work calls in the Black Box (one of our theaters, for those who never made it to see a play in their time here) to finish a set so a show can go up, 30 hours of rehearsal a week and those zombie run-ins in front of the library with people best described as acquaintances when you are both up to your ears in work. Georgetown, for all its many flaws, has afforded me the greatest sense of purpose I have ever known, and although I will find new, hopefully better paying, purposes beyond this place, I want to take this opportunity to appreciate my time here and its magic.

During my first week at Georgetown I had a fever of 102 degrees for three days, and I was confined to my cinderblocks in Village C. I think I missed the first meeting of every club on campus. No Southern Society for me, although I think I made their e-mail list, but then, who didn’t? When I emerged, however, there was a fortuitous purple flier in the lobby for auditions for a play called “Moonchildren” performed by Nomadic Theatre. Not recognizing the title but intrigued by the poster, I decided to give it a shot, not thinking that I would get cast. Well, I ended up with the role of “Lucky,” the harmless chain-smoking psycho who lived upstairs. It was lucky indeed because I found, in that twist of fate, my family for the next four years. I only had seven lines, but I was already a part of something. I sometimes wonder what my life at Georgetown would have been like without theater.

I have worked on 13 plays at Georgetown. I have acted, stage-managed, set-designed, produced, done lighting, directed and served as executive producer of Nomadic Theatre. I don’t think that I have found a job in the theater that I wouldn’t do again if asked. I have spent entire weekends in Black Box without seeing the sun. While watching actors shine under the lights, I have seen plays come together overnight and then come alive in front of Georgetown audiences.

On the flip side, I have seen rows of empty chairs neglected by a campus of people who would rather go to Champs. Over the years I have heard endless discussions about what Nomadic Theatre, Mask & Bauble and Players meant to so many others when they were here. Recently, I have heard countless debates about the changes that are going on in the arts at this school and wondered if they would ever happen. I am a part of what sometimes seems to be a hidden and forgotten microcosm in the vastness of this institution and I cherish that membership for it has, in many ways, defined me and my life here.

I am eternally grateful to all the people who have been a part of these years. From those who worked on “Moonchildren” with me (and every show after) and showed me the way, to the casts and crews of the many shows I was involved in, to the magical crazy people who made my directing experiences some of greatest in my life, and to the audiences who supported our endeavors, there are so many people who have contributed to the world which has brought me so much. To my friends who tolerated neglect and crabbiness, put up missing fliers in the cafeteria for me freshman year when I was doing three shows at once, and made so many things here memorable. I thank you all. And a special thanks to my mother, father, Linda and my brothers for applauding me every step of the way. Et pour Lou-Lou parce que tu es venu et je t’aime. J’arrive bientot.

I am done here, fireworks or not, and next year I will be teaching in France and working in theater because, well, it’s got me. I have Georgetown to thank for that. I only hope that the theater groups on campus will persevere no matter what may change. So to all readers, please support the arts at Georgetown. They are more than just plays or concerts, they are the crowning achievement for some of us who devote ourselves wholly to the craft and want to see it flourish here. Thank you.

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