A True Crime Christmas Story: How a Lie Shaped My Career

Long before I directed films, I directed a Christmas festival. I spent several formative years of my career as the Assistant Director of Saint Charles Christmas Traditions, where I designed character trading cards, some of which are currently on display at the Foundry Art Centre. Now in its 50th year, the festival runs from Thanksgiving to Christmas and attracts visitors from around the world to historic St. Charles Missouri. It runs rain (snow) or shine and characters from Christmas history wander the cobblestones of Main Street bringing good cheer. It is, and will always be, one of my very favorite jobs and I am certain that it changed my life in ways too numerous to calculate.

In 2004, Christmas Traditions was my first-ever audition. I was seventeen, and incredibly nervous. I really had no idea what I was auditioning for, just that it paid. In my brief time exploring local auditions post-highschool I had already learned that pay was rare. At the time I very much aspired to be a "working actor."

During my audition, I lied. A lot. I remember the three staff members sitting across from me and one, rather sternly, asking how I felt about the cold. "I love it!" I lied. He asked again, noting that many people lie and later realize the festival is outdoors in freezing temperatures. This was news to me, and as someone who gets cold in the middle of a St. Louis July, I made a bold declaration and layered on the lies just as I would later layer on my fleece underwear.

I was cast as the "Flower Girl" ala Eliza Doolittle. Initially, I was thrilled but after opening day I wanted to quit. I was cold and tired, and playing a character on the street for 8 hours was a surprising amount of work. I debated showing up for day 2. Call it stubbornness, a desire to live up to the lie I’d told, or a Christmas miracle - but I returned. By December 24th I was completely in love with the festival.

At the close of the season, the cast was asked to fill out comment cards about how the event could be improved. I resisted the urge to ask for more cider flavors in the break room and instead offered to help. I mentioned that I was a decent graphic designer and, this time, I was telling the truth.

It wasn't long before I was assisting with the festival's marketing materials. We designed the pamphlets and character trading cards over the summer before auditions in the fall. I played the Flower Girl one more year before realizing my strengths were better served behind the scenes. My eyes were opened to the world of directing thanks to Randall & Liana Kopchak.

Wandering the cobblestone streets as the Flower Girl gave me the confidence to talk to anyone. But it also taught me to appreciate how hard it is to embody a character and helped me recognize that talent and commitment in others.

In 2006 I joined the staff on the other side of the audition table. This time, I skeptically asked how people felt about the cold. I was fortunate to be there for the introduction of new and instantly beloved characters like the Sugarplum Fairy, Jack Frost, the Snow Queen, and the Christmas Angel. I spent seven years making merry, designing trading cards, managing talent, and adjusting my full-time work around a gig that brought me - and thousands of visitors - true Christmas joy.

By 2011, most of our jolly staff had moved on to new endeavors, but we share a Christmas bond that will never be broken - a stake of holly through our hearts, as Randall and Ebenezer would attest.

The skills I honed on Main Street eventually led me to meet my future husband. In fact, Bob Cratchit himself later married us. There were tough managerial lessons learned, like when to make the call to close early (hint: it’s before the blizzard gets so bad that you run off the road twice on your way home) or that not everyone honors a signed contract. But mostly, I learned beautiful lessons about hard work, collaboration, and recognizing potential in others - lessons that have shaped me into the wife, business owner, and director I am today.

Christmas Traditions instilled in me a love for St. Louis’ amazing local talent and, believe it or not, a love for the cold. Okay, that’s still a lie. I don’t love the cold, but I did learn that not even the cold can stop me from making merry, and a little discomfort will never stop me from trying something new. It’s in those moments when you nervously step forward to audition or raise your hand to help that you discover what you're made of and ultimately change your life in ways you may never fully understand.

The festival will continue for another 50 years, and my contributions might be remembered as little more than a few cards on a wall, but it will forever be a treasured part of my Christmas past, present, and future.

Happy 50th, Ctrads.