If not gathered by now, I'm very active in my school's theatre department and despite my penchant for writing, I prefer to act. A while back I auditioned for my school's One Act play (a competitive play we take to different schools and get graded on, so on so forth). Alas, I was not cast, and while the rejection obliterated my fragile teenage ago, I consider myself as having gotten over it at the time of writing. It was still a moment of failure, however. I attempted something with a goal in mind, and did not acheive it, so therefore I *did* fail (even with low stakes and a lot of cushion).
A few weeks later, my state's Thespian Festival rolled around and I travelled to my state's capital to perform the events I had signed up for (playwriting and duo scene acting, respectively), as well as act in a company-wide optional short play that was hosted in conjunction with my states forensics association and EdTA. My nerves during the weekend? Through the roof, as you could likely surmise. Despite the fun I was having at workshops, in the exhibition hall, and seeing plays, this malignant force of despair followed me around every corner, through every room, and with every step. The fear of failure.
The end of Saturday crept up on me, and to my surprise (and delight) I acheived a superior rating (the highest) on all three of my events! It was a high point for me, and I did blow my voice out from how hard I celebrated. It's nice (and dare I argue neccessary) to receive positive external feedback, especially following a low point of insecurity and feelings of not belonging. It's nice to feel confident and wanted, especially in an environment that's basically the only reason you go to school and keep up your grades day-to-day.
I performed in a production of Hamlet (as the Ghost if you were curious, though you probably weren't) for my high school (relatively) recently, and one of the things you realize during rehearsal is, "WOW, none of these kids have any idea what they're saying." Which makes sense, obviously, because you're asking a bunch of high schoolers to have a grasp on 400 year old material that they've likely never bothered to even try and understand before. However, it's still totally possible if the actors are smart- and eventually you realize that Shakespeare isn't actually that hard to understand, and instead people just make a big deal about it because they're intimidated and scared that if they bother to learn it, that they won't understand it.
It's also because people *read* Shakespeare, not perform it, or see it performed. It's like handing someone a copy of a speech and asking them to analyze it well enough to write an essay about it, and then run it through 400 years of malleable and always shifting language. It's difficult to understand when it's just the script, and I can say from expirience that reading Romeo and Juliet was far less enjoyable than seeing it on a stage.
As well, Shakespeare writes stories, not museum pieces. The thing that helped me most when memorizing lines for Hamlet was treating the play like a really long gossip session (which it basically is). "And then his step-dad killed his dad? Then married his mom? And his dads ghost shows up and tells him to kill his uncle? and his mom is mad at him, and holy shit his girlfriend is dead??? and why is hamlet kind of a frat boy? and hOLY SHIT EVERYONE'S DEAD- poor horatio :(" And then it hits; wow, this guy was really good at his job, and all of the hype around Shakespeare is totally justified.