Our first ever Youth Theatre talent show!
School’s nearly over and the summer holidays are just around the corner for our youth theatre members. We’ve been having our end of term showcases and our last session parties! Despite the packed schedule, some of our youth theatre have still found the time to take part in our first ever youth theatre talent show!
It was a sweltering hot day on the Courtyard Lounge and 10 talented young people were getting ready to perform. We had singers, musicians and writers all getting up on stage to impress our judges. Their eyes were firmly on 1st prize, a £25 gift voucher. There was a lot to play for!
Our judges were 2 people with a lot of experience at The Courtyard – head of the board Bruce Freeman and Participation Manager Ellen Dorsett. They were both excited to see what our young people could offer, and were a bit daunted about having to judge!
Things got off to a great start, with 2 members of our youth board introducing the acts. It quickly became clear this would be very close to judge! We had amazing musicians, and some truly breath-taking singers. Each act was met with huge applause and it was great to see so many young people supporting each other.
Eventually it was time for our judges to make their decision. What was great was that so many different talents were rewarded. In the top 3, we had blindfolded piano playing, a creative writing piece, but the winner was the brilliant Annie Hartland who gave a very powerful singing performance that transported our judges straight to the West End.
Winners
1st Place – Annie Hartland, singing
2nd Place – Rhodri Davies, writing
3rd Place – Sara Badina, piano (blindfolded!)
The whole event was run by our brilliant youth board and we can’t wait to start organising the next one. So, do you have a special talent you want to show off? Well, make sure to sing up! Keep an eye out for future talent shows!
Read Rhodri’s creative writing piece!
I Am Twiggy
I woke up like normal, with Mum opening the bedroom door—also known as the utility room, but don’t let that fool you. It’s my room. She always wakes me up for a walk. She thinks it’s to tire me out, but I know the truth: it’s the best part of her day. She just doesn’t admit it. She clipped on my old, scruffy lead and off we went. We crossed through the hole in the hedge into the orchard, which is also known as Twiggy’s kingdom. And then—bam! A rabbit. I saw it dash from under the apple tree, a blur of ears and panic. I tugged at the lead, trying to look casual. Maybe Mum hadn’t seen it. She hadn’t. She unclicked the buckle. I was free. I bolted. My back legs nearly overtook my front. I was a blur. A shadow. A force of nature. The rabbit zipped under a bush and I screeched to a halt. Nope. Not going in there. Not after what happened last time with the brambles. Still, I’d almost caught it. One day, I would. I just knew it.
After the chase, it was bath time. Apparently, I was as muddy as the orchard floor. Mum lifted me into the dog bath, and I made sure to give her my best betrayed look. She didn’t care. She was already making my breakfast. While I ate, she went to check on the enemy next door… the chickens. I don’t trust them. I’ve seen the way they look at me—judgy. And they’re always clucking secrets. I don’t know what they’re planning, but one day I’ll find out. Mum came back holding two eggs. Where do they keep getting them? Magic? After breakfast, I did what I do every morning: I sat in the best winter sunbeam and watched the sunrise.v Orange, pink, pale blue. Honestly, I was wrong earlier—this might be the best part of the day. I thought I knew how my days went. I thought I understood the routine. But then came the next day. No one opened my door. I heard strange noises upstairs. Suitcases thumping. People walking too fast. Suspicious. I scratched at the door. Was it walk time? Breakfast? What was going on?
Then—bam—door swung open and I was being scooped into my travel cage and packed into the boot of the car. This could only mean one thing…
Holiday.
France? Dubai? Mauritius? Please not Cornwall again. I love sheep, but they never love me back. Mum turned and said: “Who’s ready for… Scotland!”
Scotland in winter?! I’d seen it on TV. It’s just snow. But I wagged my tail anyway. I’m nothing if not loyal.
I must’ve fallen asleep, because when I opened my eyes, everything was white. Blinding, fluffy snow in every direction. Mum opened the boot and unlatched my cage. I leapt out, stretched my legs, and dashed into the nearest snowdrift. It was freezing. I loved it. But when I turned around…
No car. No Mum. No suitcases. Just snow. I turned in circles. My paws sank into the cold. I barked once. Twice. Nothing. They were gone. I was lost. I could’ve panicked. I could’ve curled up and cried like that time I got stuck in the recycling bin. But I didn’t. Because I am Twiggy. I sniffed the air. Nothing. I sniffed again. A faint trace—Mum’s shampoo. I followed it, weaving through snow, slipping on ice, determined as ever. I didn’t find the car. But I did find a sock. It smelled like my little human. A good sign. And then, over the hill… I heard a voice.
“Twiggy?” It was Mum! I charged down the hill, my tail spinning like a helicopter. I launched into her arms. She fell backward, laughing. I covered her in snow and snout-kisses.
She said, “Never do that again.”
I said, “Next time, don’t lose me.”
We were both right.