By Mark Andrew Beach

When I started college as a freshman in the fall of 1977, I declared a major in music and dance. I was all in. I took two dance classes, earned a spot on the college ballroom dance team, landed a chair in the symphony orchestra, and even joined a school rock band that regularly played at campus dances on the weekends. As if that weren’t enough, I also took piano classes. I loved it all. I was on my way to becoming a performer—the next Gene Kelly or Fred Astaire.

I loved the movies then, and I still love them now. Sure, Clint Eastwood and Harrison Ford were some of my big-screen heroes, but I knew my calling wasn’t to be the tough guy—I was going to be part of the next wave of song-and-dance men.

College life was going great, performance-wise. But slowly, a sense of fear started creeping in. My instructors often warned us: unless we hit it big in show business, we’d be lucky to end up sleeping under a park bench in Beverly Hills or Central Park. That hit me hard. I knew I wanted a family one day, and I’d have the responsibility of providing for them. So, the louder voice in my head said: “Be practical.” Eventually, I changed my major to business and accounting.

Now, some of you might think, “So what?” But here’s something I find fascinating—and a little ironic.

I’m a fourth-generation businessman/accountant. My dad, grandfather, and great-grandfather were all in finance. In hindsight, it makes sense why I gravitated toward accounting. But here’s the twist: each of those men were also performers in their own right—talented ones—and each of them gave it up for a “marketable skill.” That part gets to me. It's a bittersweet legacy.

I’ve had a successful career in finance and accounting—one any mother would be proud of—but I’ve often wondered, with a lump in my throat, what might have happened if I’d stayed true to the dream.

What if just one teacher, one mentor, had pulled me aside and said, “Kid, showbiz is tough. But what business isn’t? Let me show you how to make a real living doing what you love. Let me show you the business of show business.” What if someone had truly invested in seeing me succeed?

Would I have stuck it out? Maybe. Would I have ended up under a park bench, broke and forgotten? I doubt it. Instead, I made a different choice—one I’ve questioned off and on for over 30 years, even though life still led me, in its own ironic way, into the business of show business. I eventually became a finance executive for The Walt Disney Company.

And for one unforgettable day, I even got to be “Goofy” at Disneyland.

Since then, I’ve channeled my love for performance into public speaking, teaching, and leading workshops. It scratches the itch for applause. But truth be told, nothing gets my heart racing quite like Jimmy Cagney tap-dancing his way through Yankee Doodle Dandy.

So what’s my point?

Stay true to your dreams. Don't let fear—or anyone else—convince you to give them up. And in the words of Winston Churchill:

"Never give up. Never give up. Never, never give up."