Weighty Matter; or, Laura Writes a College Essay

For this week's check point, I thought I'd share my Common App essay that was completed (and submitted to two other schools, shhhh...) this weekend.  Not my typical blog fodder, but, in my opinion, still some good stuff.

To give you a little background, I picked the essay prompt to "describe a place where you feel most content, what you do there, and what it means to you."  I picked the Theatre Department, and more specifically, the hallway of lockers that is the entryway to the auditorium area.

This happened there one time.  Those are, in fact, life-size dolls.

So, here we are.  Laura applies to college and attempts to actually take something seriously, part 1/1:

I'm what most people, including myself, would refer to as a "Theatre Kid."  I've been involved in theatre for almost my whole school career in some way, shape or form.  I am an eight star Honor Thespian and I am spending my senior year as president of “Rising Stars”, the Carmel High School drama club, but to me theatre is so much more than my accomplishments. Coming into Carmel High School is a daunting experience.  There are clubs, organizations, and activities shoved in your face like potato salad at a family reunion.  It’s not hard to be confused and overwhelmed.  It’s not hard to be without a direction.  Finding my niche in the theatre department gave me that.  It gave me the chance to believe in myself more than I ever had before.

There’s a certain hallway in my school where all the theatre kids converge.  You can walk through the open, airport-like lobby down the slightly slanted wheelchair ramp into an area of the school obviously much older, where paint chips away to reveal what used to be a mural.  On the other side of the hallway from this relic of the 1970’s resides a strip of lockers, all with similar laminated papers toting achievements taped to their blue facades.  Many of these proudly accumulated signs belong to members of the “Ambassadors” show choir, like myself, and contain pictures of well-coiffed, bright, enthusiastic individuals in sparkly dresses and perfectly aligned ties.  Even more announce that the locker belongs to a “GKOM”, or Greyhound Kick-Off Mentor - upperclassmen in charge of making freshman at the school of over 4,500 feel welcome.  Though none of the lockers, much like their well-rounded inhabitants, are exactly alike, they almost all have one thing in common – a small, rectangular sign that says “This Locker Belongs To…” followed by the name and role of the student decorated carefully in Magic Marker for whatever the most recent play or musical might have been.

The owners of these locker signs are my friends, and that little strip of hallway with terrible cell phone service is where I have discovered I belong.  It was in this piece of hallway that I found out freshman year that I was going to perform on the auditorium stage.  As a sophomore, I practiced a dance as a rapping reindeer with the other girls in my choir.  It’s in this piece of hallway I found out as a Junior that I didn’t get the lead role in the fall play, and learned in that way to cope with disappointment.  It’s in that hallway that I now, as a senior with stacks of college mail on my desk at home, make plans for sushi or gas station slushies with my friends.   All of us are past cast mates and all of us know in the back of our minds that in a few months we may never see each other together again.

Not only have I found my social circle in the clump of jumping, hugging weirdos that inhabit this space in the “E Building” within the entire 265,000 square feet of learning that is Carmel High School, I’ve found what I want to do for the rest of my life.  I’m very fortunate to have grown up in a family that supports me through all of my endeavors, but in the Theatre and Film Department I found a different kind of family.  My support group of teachers and friends has believed in me through whatever I’ve done, though sometimes I haven’t quite lived up to expectation.  However, with the combined support of my “house” family and my “hallway” family, I’ve learned that it’s alright to mess up; you just have to keep going.  Because of the little strip of hallway where my friends conglomerate, I have the confidence to continue with the lessons and passions all those locker signs represent. 

Stuff like this also happens in the Theatre Department.

Truly Moving Pictures

I have exciting news!

The movie I co-made with Gus Leagre was chosen as an Honorable Mention in The Heartland Film Festival High School Competition!  Check it out below, and consider coming to screenings of other fabulous, touching films at Heartland this year.  Follow the link to check out their site - their program is amazing.

Here we go.  Thanks to Matt McDonald (look him up at James Winston Band on Facebook) and Leo Biette (Carmel High School's Speaker of the House and true modern Renaissance gentleman).

A Strange Man's Van

One time, I got in a van with a strange man.

 It looked a lot like this!

Don’t worry, I had a good reason. Here’s the story.

I went camping every summer as a kid with my cousins. And I mean all of my cousins. Like my dad’s brothers’ kids, and then my dad’s cousins kids. Total, there was about 20 of us at the height of summer camping.

It was a lot like this.  Except less diversity.

It was way cool. We did crafts and stuff.

Lots of these bad boys.

Well, one year when I was about 4, I wasn’t allowed to do the same craft as the older kids, and naturally that made me angry. How dare they think I was incapable of stringing beads in a specific, predetermined pattern!

In retrospect, I probably was incapable, but I digress.

Anyway, I went off to the bathroom house thingy and got lost. Which should be an indicator, if anything, of how adept I would have been at semi-advanced crafting. On my way back to the campsite, which was not nearly as far as I thought it was, a nice guy in a big van thingy with his teenage son asked if I needed a ride somewhere.

This would be a good moment to interject that, as a 4 year old, I was probably like 2 feet tall and was probably very conspicuous walking by myself.

So, since the campsite was still decently far away (like 800 feet!) and it was hot, I jumped in the van. I directed the van driving guy to “the camper with the green boat cover…see the bead thingies? Yeah! With all the kids!” He kindly let me out of his vehicle.

My Aunt Sandy, who saw all of this, was not pleased, and gave the guy a pretty good verbal lashing. At the time, I thought this was completely rude. He was being so nice!

I mean, he offered me so much candy!

Alright, let’s bring this story back around. I vaguely remember this story. I said I was 4, but I very well could have been 2. It’s one of those stories from your childhood that you think back on and go “did that really happen?”, and for the purpose of this blog post, it did happen.

So, what does this mean to me now?

I choose to look at this as a lesson in “don’t judge a book by it’s cover.” Because of my limited memory of the situation and my naivety at the time, the van driving guy could have had ill intentions that I didn’t realize that prompted my aunt’s verbal lashings. However, if the story was truly as I remembered, I got out of the van and was well on my way before any adult said anything. Because of bad outcomes in other situations, my aunt chose to stereotype this guy, who very well could have been doing a super nice thing.

 This goes along with my “philosophy” that everyone deserves a chance to explain their story before someone makes judgments.

Cause it’d be really nice to not have to consider the whole stranger danger thing every time a guy in a van offers me a ride, cause I really hate walking.

Why I Want to Hug Amy Poehler

Amy Poehler is a goddess.

Just look at her.

She even looked good in the 90's.

NO one looked good in the 90’s.  The only beautiful people were on Seinfeld as Jerry’s various girlfriends (there were at least 45).

But Amy Poehler.  She remains as a shining beacon of light and hope and humor.

Poehler started her career as a member of The Second City improv troupe in Chicago.  She then went on to be a part of the Upright Citizens Brigade in New York before being cast to Saturday Night Live in 2001.  All of this, and she was 30.  And hilarious.

Just watch:

As well as her extensive comedy career, Poehler is known for roles on Mean Girls, Blades of Glory, Arrested Development, and most recently starring as Councilwoman Leslie Knope in Parks and Recreation.

I am obsessed.

Not only has her career been one that I would drown a bag of puppies to have, Amy Poehler is responsible for one of my favorite Pinterest finds (more on Pinterest later).

This is that picture.

How empowering is that?  In a world full of people saying that teenage girls, and women in general, need to be skinny and curvy and smart but demure and just generally self-contradictory, it’s nice to see a woman so successful say it’s fine to be silly, and you should feel good doing so.  I just want to give her a big thank you hug for making this okay.

This statement has contributed to the way I personally view my life.  “Looking silly” doesn’t bother anyone else, and doing what you love no matter the opinions others may have is what is truly important.  I have found that it is much more fruitful to put myself out there and look a little bit dumb and have a blast than it is to sit back and say “I *could* have done that.”  It is my personal belief that, in that way, success is defined by the individual.

And if this is success, I’m okay with that too.