Momma tells me she knew the minute I started talking that I was a natural-born performer. Having a large family and lots of people around guaranteed I always had an audience. There’s just something about getting a response from other people that I’ve always loved. I would come bounding into the room twirling and shaking my hips. Once I captured someone’s attention, I just let my imagination take over and performed whatever antics came to mind. As the baby, just about everyone humored me. I loved to sing too, and as I got older, I created variety skits that showcased all of my meager talents. By the time Britney’s first single was released, I was dreaming about becoming an actress. Momma and Daddy agreed to send me to voice and dance lessons, got me headshots, and supported me. The dream of being a performer was always mine, and in no way did I feel my parents were living vicariously through me. I practiced diligently and relished receiving accolades from everyone. Singing was only part of what I loved about performing. My sister’s voice was throaty and strong, while mine was fluid and controlled. People said we were different but equally as talented. But my true love was acting.
As Britney’s fame grew, it caused a lot of strain on the family. Britney’s career took her far from home and oftentimes Momma traveled with her. I could tell Momma was disconcerted by Daddy’s unreliability, and she exhausted herself keeping everything afloat. The periods of neglect and disregard for Momma’s needs led to frustration. I think so much energy was directed to keeping my sister’s career moving that my parents neglected to pay attention to each other. Momma’s anger and disappointment escalated as demands on her time increased. I was the only kid still at home, but I wasn’t the only one who noticed. We all felt the stress. Britney finally said, “Momma, if you leave Daddy, I will buy you a house.” That promise came just at the right time. For as long as Momma could, she tried to carry on with how we lived our lives. In Louisiana, she was determined to maintain her Southern ways, which included inviting friends and neighbors in and chatting with friendly folks. But Britney’s fame changed all that. People started to drive by or walked around the property. Over time there were more and more bizarre incidents of strangers approaching the house. Some people would come up to the windows and peek inside just to get a glimpse of Britney’s bedroom. It happened at all hours. The illusion of safety ended one night when a man pulled up in a white van just outside our house. I yelled, “Momma, there’s someone parked outside and watching the house.” We had no idea how long he had been out there or what his intentions were, but we weren’t taking any chances. The scene was creepy. Momma and I locked ourselves in the bathroom and called Rob, one of Britney’s security staff, who stayed on the phone with us until the police arrived. Soon after, we were living in a new house that provided a more secure environment for me and Momma. For added safety we got two pedigreed German shepherds that were actually from Germany. We flew out to California to meet the dogs, Roby and Ory, to make sure we were all compatible. They were the best, most loyal dogs, and I think they would have killed to protect us.
Daddy didn’t live with us in the new house, but he’d show up whenever he wanted, and Momma carried on as she always had and let him in. For Momma, leaving Daddy was one thing. Staying away was a completely different story. She would justify his visits by saying, “Jamie Lynn. He’s still your father.” Their dynamic added to my own complex feelings about him. I just couldn’t rely on him to be the dad I needed. Observing how my parents said one thing but did something else undermined my ability to trust them.
Perhaps my love of playing characters stems from a desire to abandon my stressors and escape to other worlds. Anytime I quieted my thoughts to take on another persona, I felt transformed. The freeing sensation only added to my enjoyment. I improved my talent by infusing fun into everything I created. The hours I spent developing characters helped me form a clearer view of my future. I always sought out ways to get in front of an audience. School plays, church performances, and even local auditions served as my training ground. I took whatever parts I could get. I played one of the orphans in Annie, performed in many church productions, and added singing to my dance recitals. Creative outlets were limited in my small town, and I was forced to manufacture my own opportunities. Momma was opposed to me competing in our school’s beauty pageant, claiming she didn’t want me to be a part of anything that has girls solely judged on looks. I shot some print ads and auditioned for a few commercials. I shot national commercials for Clorox and Pepsi. The dream necessitated that I do anything that provided an outlet for my creativity and added to my résumé.
The entire family was soon involved in the business of Britney’s career. Bryan discovered that practical, hands-on learning was easier than classroom instruction. He was taken under the wing of Britney’s management team to learn the basics of brokering deals and managing people. This led into the touring years, where the family traveled with Britney in support. It was the best way for us to stay close as a family. I was still so young and really enjoyed when we were all together. Although I preferred being home in Kentwood, touring with my sister provided a built-in audience for my own performances. Momma always encouraged me to bring a friend for part of the long-haul tours. We would spend time developing mini performances and characters, filling the hours of free time refining our act. The crew for the shows was massive, and everyone granted me their attention whenever I went into character or did an impersonation. They said, “Jamie Lynn, you’re a natural!” During preparations for the show, I ran around backstage and hung out. Watching Britney perform was inspiring. Sometimes I’d watch from the side stage or sit in the audience. How she managed to capture the attention of thirty thousand people at once on a nightly basis baffled me. She always experienced an adrenaline spike, followed by exhaustion when she was done. But her smile of gratification remained. At times it was unsettling how drained she was after a show, especially as the tour reached its fourth or fifth month. Between her schedule, rehearsals, and performances, I could see how profoundly the exhaustion was affecting her.
After the long day of setup, staging, and performing, the buses were loaded up to go to the next stop. This was my time to shine. With my sister’s encouragement, sometimes with a friend, I would jump into character and entertain everyone on the bus. Britney would throw out suggestions and everyone would urge me to do more. These one- and two-man shows were the basis of the characters I eventually brought to television. Occasionally, someone recorded these informal performances, and I loved to watch them over and over again. Momma and Britney provided so much encouragement that I developed the confidence to dream bigger.
Watching my sister own the stage, being Britney, taught me something about myself. I realized I was more interested in the chameleonlike effect of becoming someone else and creating a character so different from myself. Still, eliciting a response from an audience, no matter how I did it, always thrilled me, and I loved comedy. Comedic timing is like having rhythm. I aspired to become a great comedic actor after spending hours watching actors like Drew Barrymore, Tina Fey, Jimmy Fallon, and just about everyone on SNL.
For a couple of years my life went back and forth between living in Kentwood and traveling on my sister’s tours. Each time I returned home to Louisiana, I resumed my typical kid existence and kept working on my acting and performing. I just kept at it. Then I got a lucky break. A production assistant from Nickelodeon watched a video of me performing my characters in some behind-the-scenes footage from my sister’s tour. Whatever she saw prompted a meeting with my team, and I was asked to audition to join the cast of the Nickelodeon sketch comedy show All That. I was sent sides, which were short skits I would perform live in front of a team of producers. This was before the era when high-resolution videos or phone recordings were used to seek talent. They also requested I come prepared with one of my own character skits. I chose Louise McGillicutty, a character I’d created while on tour with my sister. Louise, who was later renamed Thelma Stump, was a combination of my great-granny Lexie and Rob, one of Britney’s security guards.
I went into the studios to an audition room, where several executives observed and made the final decision on hiring me. I was so nervous, but as soon as I got into character, the pure fun of it took over. They would throw lines at me, and I would ad-lib in a way that showcased my abilities. Once I was finished, they said, “We’ll be in touch soon.” I went home and waited for the call. It didn’t take more than a couple of days. Hearing I was hired was one of the coolest moments in my life. I was so excited. This was the kid version of Saturday Night Live, a show that is basically responsible for my love of sketch comedy. All That had been on hiatus for a little over a year, and I was going to be part of a new cast.
By the time the contracts were signed and the cast was assembled, I had just turned eleven. All That had a long summer shoot in LA. When we started shooting, Mom and I flew out to California with my dog Izzy and stayed in the home Britney shared with Justin Timberlake in Hollywood. The area had a great vibe, but I was so busy working I barely had time to enjoy it. When filming, time evaporates quickly. As the sister of a newly minted pop icon, and with my own growing fame, security had to be considered whenever I went out and about. In light of Britney’s media coverage, the paparazzi were always in hot pursuit of a Spears story. Occasionally, I went out anonymously. But as much as I loved it, all of my friends back home were moving on with their own lives and having experiences I wasn’t a part of, and at times I was conflicted. My efforts to showcase my talent were paying off, and yet a part of me still yearned to be home. With all the travel and work, my love of being home, a peaceful place where I could relax, continued to be my preference. We would shuttle back and forth between California and Louisiana as much as the schedule would allow. Unfortunately, the constant travel and demands on my time made it impossible to care for Izzy, and I had to give her away. Sometimes I would get to take care of one of Britney’s dogs when I was missing having one of my own.
My shooting schedule for the show created more havoc in our family. Britney and Bryan were absorbed in their own projects, which provided Momma the time to be with me in California. I think over the years my parents developed a power struggle that intensified as my sister, and then I, became successful. Our foray into the entertainment world thrust my parents into roles they had to learn in real time. As we became working performers, there wasn’t a class or seminar series for Momma and Daddy. The lines of parenting were blurred by the demands of our jobs, and decisions had to be made for both my sister and me. This took a toll on their relationship. We went from a humble Louisiana family to world notoriety in a matter of months. It became painfully obvious that my parents’ marriage was failing, and I couldn’t do anything to make it right. I knew things were bad between them, but at least I escaped the embarrassment of them being divorced. I feared the changes a divorce would bring. I was mostly concerned with how things were going to change day to day. As a young girl, I didn’t want to split weekends, sacrifice time with friends, or change my life. Momma hoped that it would change her relationship with Daddy and our new home would provide a more stable environment.
In the end, all of the drama and the divorce were a waste anyway. Britney’s house gesture was in vain. After we moved, Daddy still showed up whenever he wanted, and Momma simply let it happen. All that for nothing. Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for his drinking to take hold and erode the fragile nature of our relationship. The expectation that Daddy would continue to love me and be what I needed dissolved over time.
This was a difficult period in my life. I came to resent the very man I wanted to adore. The years of yearning for Dad to love me as I needed slowly turned to disdain. I always wanted to have Dad in my life, but never knowing if he was drinking caused me profound anxiety. Much of that anxiety was a result of Momma not doing what she should have done to protect me when he was on a bender. Daddy’s behavior and Momma’s enabling denied me essential moments of my life. We stopped communicating, and yet, and much to my dismay, he would show up in our apartment in California or on set. During the months I lived in Kentwood, he’d come to my basketball games. Whether he was drinking or not, I couldn’t trust what condition he may have been in. At times, I suggested to my mom to not tell Daddy about my games. Tormented, I repeatedly asked that he not come to my events. Just the idea that he would appear was enough to cause me distress. It was so much more than just the embarrassment his actions may have caused; the anxiety interfered with my focus, and I couldn’t foster the talent I felt was in me.
The holidays were particularly difficult times for my family. We would all be together, but there was an underlying tension that affected everyone. Momma did all she could to suppress the uneasiness. She would spend hours filling the house with her cooking and trying to create a festive atmosphere. We learned to pretend that everything was just fine. Invariably every holiday ended up the same. Daddy would get to a point where he couldn’t “deal with all of it,” and leave. It always tore me apart, and I knew I would feel the sting of that pain for many years. I remember saying to myself, “I will not do this to my children.” I never had a good Christmas until my first one with my daughter Maddie.
My work on All That was my saving grace. Although I loved the consistency daily life in Louisiana provided—school, activities, and friends—my work guaranteed that I traveled to California for the summers to film. Performing was liberating in many ways, and allowed me to focus on something other than my family struggles. As my siblings and I continued to work and create, Daddy finally sought out the help he needed and attended a rehab in California. At the time, this helped me settle into my work and enjoy my experience.
Each time, I arrived to shoot a new season full of anticipation and excitement. But as a fickle preteen, I also experienced bouts of melancholy and a yearning for home. I became adept at hiding these feelings and focused on my work. The Spears family trait of masking emotions to get through the days was deeply engrained in my psyche.
Days on the set of All That were fun, but the experience also served as a master class in comedy. Oddly enough, when I arrived on set for the first week, I was shy, almost intimidated. The reality of performing on a nationally broadcast show was settling in. For my first appearance, my one job was to come down a slide dressed as an elf and giggle. The director said, “Action,” and I froze. I couldn’t do it. Momma stood at the side stage and gave me a look that said, After all of the work you did to get here… now this? But the cast was nurturing and encouraging, and within minutes I calmed my nerves and pulled it off. Later, when we shot the opening sequence for the show, the cast made me feel like one of the team. Within weeks I settled in and found my footing.
We were an ensemble cast, which diminished the level of pressure I might have otherwise felt. My castmates and I shared the responsibility of ensuring the show’s success. Honestly, it was the most fun I have ever experienced performing. Weekly we would create characters and reuse ones the audience loved. I learned to get out of my comfort zone by playing characters who felt foreign to me. The show always had a guest star cameo or a musical performer. Justin Timberlake, former cast member Nick Cannon, and even my sister made cameos. The list of musicians included just about every popular band or singer in the nineties—Destiny’s Child, LL Cool J, Usher, the Spice Girls, and the Backstreet Boys. We had an elaborate greenroom that appeared on-screen for the viewers, where the cast and guests would hang out. All That was a four-camera-shot show, which allowed for us to rehearse Monday through Wednesday and shoot live on Thursday and Friday. The week would start with a table read, where writers would take notes and make changes. After the meeting, rehearsals would start. If I wasn’t rehearsing, I’d have costume fittings, hair and makeup sessions to help create the characters I’d be playing. By the time we started filming, we were all pumped up to get into costume and perform in front of the live audience. The level of adrenaline was palpable on those days. As an ensemble, not everyone is in every skit. When we weren’t on-screen, the cast hung out in the greenroom with the guest performers. We’d get to see everyone perform, meet the musicians, and have fun.
The writers would create characters and often ask us for input. Sometimes I would act out a written concept and be asked to add my own spin to it. I loved when the writers took a liking to a particular character I’d created, like Thelma Stump, and wrote her into the show. Becoming an active part of the process was validating and encouraged me to create more characters. Some of my favorite skits from the show include “Thelma Stump,” “Trashin’ Fashion,” and “Know Your Stars.” “Know Your Stars” was when one of the All That stars sat on a chair center stage and a voice-over would share falsehoods about them. My favorite time was when I got snippy with the voice-over and hurt his feelings. Of course, I apologized, and he resumed spouting silly lies no one would ever believe.
During the early 2000s, when All That was shot, Nickelodeon had requirements about continuity—no changes to our appearance were allowed. During a shoot, I lost one of my front teeth. I couldn’t have a tooth in one shot and a gap in the next. Someone said, “We’ve got to get a flipper”—an attachable temporary tooth. By the next morning I was back on set with my flipper in place and finished the scene.
All That had a huge fan base. Our show slid into SNICK House, the Saturday night block created by Nickelodeon to attract mid- to older teens. The block was hosted by former All That castmate Nick Cannon. A few times I took part in On-Air Dare, Nickelodeon’s version of Fear Factor that aired during SNICK. I had to attempt to drink five gallons of blue cheese dressing, be doused in eggs, and eat “earwax tacos,” all in the name of entertainment. A fun fact about On-Air Dare is that some of the substances used in the challenges are not what they appeared to be. If you’ve seen the blue cheese dressing challenge, it was diluted for easier consumption. The eggs on set were actually peaches. Even the infamous slime is made of vanilla pudding and food coloring. Producers needed to ensure the safety of the cast by avoiding the use of allergenic foods and materials. Sometimes they would have two stars from different shows compete against each other to draw a larger audience. The executives at Nickelodeon did a great job of weaving their performers into various programs and bringing new faces into their programming. The producers of All That were determined to diversify Nickelodeon and showcase talents from a cast that had different experiences and backgrounds. The show received a number of awards, and several cast members went on to star in their own television shows. After spending a few seasons on the show, I felt a growing confidence in my abilities as an actress and began to think about what might come next. Producer and writer Dan Schneider, who’d created All That, recognized my talent. He went on to develop many other projects and ultimately was the driving force behind my opportunity to get a starring role in my next job.