I was the Virgin Mary in the Christmas pageant, in Grade 2. Really, no sh**. They figured I was perfect for the part - I had that long blonde hippy hair, all the way past my waist, which my teacher thought looked ‘angelic.’
It’s a good thing I have pictures to prove it, 'cuz no one would ever believe I played that part without lightning striking 
So, what part did you have in your grade school play(s)?
I was the Big Bad Wolf in Little Red Riding Hood. The first of many a wolf I would play in my acting career.
I was the only one who fit the costume because I’ve always been at least a foot taller than all my peers. Plus, as my closest friends can attest… I am evil.
<tucks hair back behind his horns and smiles>
Lessee. My most memorable grade school performance was the time I played Barnaby Tucker in “Hello Dolly” in the fifth grade. The performance was captured on videotape, unfortunately. I will have to have all copies of this tape destroyed if I ever want to run for President or if I become a famous musician (the folks at VH-1 seem to have a knack for digging up this kind of stuff).
The best part of the performance was when an obviously pre-pubescant THespos had to hit a high E-flat. Not a problem back then, but it would be a heck of a feat today.
I wrote and directed a Christmas play when I was in the fifth grade. I managed to incorporate snow, Santa, elves, along with the whole religious aspect. I did it just because I wanted to and the teacher allowed me to run the show. We performed it for the other 5th grade classes - 4 performances in all. I vaguely recalled standing in the middle of it all watching the reaction of the audience - guess I shoulda stood in the back of the classroom, huh?
That was my first and last dramatic production. The world will never know what talent lies dormant within me…
I played my accordion in a skit for Senior Follies in high school, but that wasn’t exactly a play.
Grade 3 - “A Christmas Carol” (mini-musical) Ghost of Christmas Present - and I remember my lines:
"Today you are a great success/ Money is your crime…
…la da da…something.
(also Page-turner for the music teacher when I wasn’t on stage)
In 3rd grade, I played TOC to Sheryl R.'s TIC, the big and little hands (respectively) of a clock, in our Christmas play. I still remember our big speaking part following Santa’s landing on the roof:
TIC: What
TOC: is
TIC: all
TOC: the
TIC: noise
TOC: and
TIC: clat-
TOC: ter?
Still lodged in my brain 27 years later.
First, I trod the boards as The Great and Powerful OZ! Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain!!
Then I was Uncle Jessie in “Homer Price and the Doughnut Machine”, which garnered rave reviews from Miss Reedy’s third grade class.
Then, in one what will surely be remembered as one of the darkest days in the history of The Stage, my debut as “The Breads and Cereals Group” was tragically upstaged by Dougie Snodgrass vomiting in his paper mache’ Wedge of Cheese costume.
Does 7th grade count?
If so, I may have been the greatest Linus Van Pelt in the history of You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown!
I was in a bunch of school plays, but I have two favorites.
In HS I played Curly in “Oklahoma”, and also played Ado Annie’s father in the same production, but on another night. I remembered how cool it was seeing the opening scene of Chuck Connors in “The Rifleman” on TV re-runs, when he flipped his shotgun to load it. I added that to my own performance as Ado Annie’s father, and almost cracked myself in the face on stage.
In 6th grade, I was a writer and actor for a play put on by our French class - “L’Esprit de Paris”, or “The Poltergeist of Paris”. While waiting for a line, I was seated in a cafe holding a menu. I became so amazed at the outrageous prices written on the prop menu that I completely forgot my line. Crap, was I embarrassed, since I wrote the stupid lines. I managed to ad-lib by standing up in mock outrage and doing a pratt fall.
I was paddington bear in fourth grade. don’t really remember any of my lines, but I’m sure some of them involved orange marmalade.
In fourth grade, I was “Small Voice” in the Earth Day play. That’s how I got the bug…haven’t had as big a part since. (I was the representative small voice for all of us–so it was actually a pretty big part.) “But what can I do? I’m just one Small Voice!” Thank you, Ms. Pace…I loved every minute of it.
Since then, I’ve been (all in high school) “Tourist,” “Girl Who Shrieks at Mouse,” and “Mad Scientist.” My biggest part since was in a freaky little play about a small farming community who sacrifices someone each year to ensure the health of the apple crop. I was “Aunt Martha”.
Wow, I hope no one taped THAT play.
First grade. I was the Little Dog at the End of the Line in “The Big Turnip.”
And at summer camp I was one of the Seven Dwarves—Itchy, or Scratchy, or Drooly; I can’t remember.
I was the lead in the sixth-grade play (he said, shining his fingernails on his shirt). “The Prince Who Wouldn’t Talk.” Except I did talk when nobody was around. Sang even. Can’t remember the plot now. But I think my mom still has the costume. (Not much use for purple, satin, sequined bloomers for a guy, post-play.)
I distinctly remember being overjoyed at getting the extremely cool part of Squanto in the second-grade Thanksgiving finger-puppet play.
I opened and closed the curtains. I think its the only theatrical talent I have.
In fifth grade, I was the one dancing around in a sombrero singing, “Ay, Don Gato!”
Sadly, those are the only lyrics that I recall.
I AM fairly sure that I was wearing more than a sombrero, however. But I remember only the sombrero because at the end we were supposed to whip them off and shout, “Ole!”. But my sombrero strap got hung up on my glasses and there I stood with my glasses halfway off my face, trying like mad not to pull them the rest of the way off, and my “Ole!” was cut off at “O!”. Alas, I was not meant for the stage.
I was the little crippled boy in our lower-grades (1st-6th grades – 2-room schoolhouse) production of the Littlest Angel in Mineral, Ca. The littlest angel gave me his wings because I could not walk and I was grateful. I didn’t like being in the play. I wanted a he-man, John Wayne kind of part and I had to play some sissy-boy cripple (7-year-olds are not very PC).
Later in the program, I sang the second verse of Silent Night. I was chosen to sing this tune because I had (at the time) perfect pitch – something my teacher discovered only a few days before the program. I managed to croak out the first line or two, then looked at the audience. My mind wen’t blank. I stood there with that deer-in-the-headlights look while the pianist gamely continued playing. After about 10 seconds, I announced “I forget the rest of the words.” and walked off the stage. I wasn’t old enough to appreciate the laugh that got, but I remember it everytime I see the scene with the little kids putting on their Christmas pageant in Going My Way.
~~Baloo
I was a snowflake, a witch and an alien.
La dee da.
<sniff> I don’t want to talk about it… OK, OK, maybe it’s better to get it off my chest. In grade school, Kathy and Andy always got the leads! It wasn’t fair!! I got stuck in the chorus. Every time. I could have been a great actress if it wasn’t for stupid Kathy and her perfect hair and her perfect teeth and … and …
Sorry, I believe the OP touched a small nerve there. <takes a deep breath>
OK. I’m better now.
<walks away muttering under her breath - “bitch”>
I was the narrator in the 3rd grade for our play “The Bean Man.”
Then, my big break- Toto the dog in the “Wizard of OZ.” No lines, but I was onstage the entire play. That was 4thh grade.
Then in 5th grade, Jack Dawkins, the Artful Dodger himself, in “Oliver!” So what if I was a girl? I was the only 10 year old who could pull off an English accent and memorize the long songs!
Later years brought better parts, until…
<sniff> I don’t want to talk about it… OK, OK, maybe it’s better to get it off my chest. In grade school, Kathy and Andy always got the leads! It wasn’t fair!! I got stuck in the chorus. Every time. I could have been a great actress if it wasn’t for stupid Kathy and her perfect hair and her perfect teeth and … and …
Sorry, I believe the OP touched a small nerve there. <takes a deep breath>
OK. I’m better now.
<walks away muttering under her breath - “bitch”>