Multiple Genres: Analyzing How Playwrights Develop Characters Through Dialogue And Staging (TEKS.ELA.6.8.C) Practice Test

Backstage, faint murmurs from the audience. A single work light glows. Mia clutches a crumpled note, then smooths it with trembling hands. She paces three short steps, stops, inhales, and straightens her shoulders. Mia (whispering to herself): Okay. You've practiced. You can do this. She checks the stage entrance, then steps back, pressing a hand to her chest. Mia (soft but firm): They don't need perfect. They need honest. She folds the note, tucks it in her pocket. Mia (louder now): I'm going to tell them what I'll do—listen, organize, show up. She nods once, plants her feet. Stage Manager (offstage): Two minutes! Mia startles, then smiles nervously. Mia (steadying): Thank you. She rolls her shoulders, loosens her jaw, and lifts her chin. Mia (to herself): I'm new, but I care—and that counts. She steps toward the curtain, pauses to take one last breath, then steps through the opening as the light brightens.

A school auditorium. A lone mic stands center stage. The curtain is half open. Jamal shuffles out, gripping a wad of index cards. He avoids eye contact, scanning the floor; his foot taps a jittery rhythm. Jamal (forced cheer): Hey, uh, good evening! If I forget my lines, it's part of the dance. He makes a tiny, awkward twirl, then laughs too quickly. He clears his throat, cards shaking. Jamal (quieter): So… this piece means a lot to me. He glances up, then down again. Jamal (jokey): And to my cards, who have supported me through many tough times. He holds them up like a tiny audience, gives a shy wave. He takes a breath, plants his feet wider, and lowers his shoulders. Jamal (steadier): I'll try again. Thank you for listening. He looks to the back row briefly, then fixes his gaze above the audience's heads.