Running Man

At 1:29 pm; the only thing on Jacob Song’s (12) mind at the end of his AP English Language class at Mt. Carmel every Friday is that he knows he only has 13 minutes before he is late.

Will his teacher let him out early?

All he is focused on is getting to Westview by 1:42 for his fourth-period AP Computer Science class.

He doesn’t have a car, he doesn’t have a scooter or a skateboard or a bike; all he has are his running shoes

Out of the Mt. Carmel gates, through the parking lot and onto Carmel Mt. Road; 11 minutes left.

Down the road, Song arrives at a stop light at the intersection of Carmel Mt. Road and Black Mt. Road. The red light glares at him, holding him back. He counts the seconds passing by on his watch until the light flashes green; nine minutes left.

From the stop light to Sparren Ave, Song runs 0.6 miles.He keeps his focus on getting to Westview on time, repeatedly glancing at his watch; six minutes left.

More than halfway there.

He makes a swift right onto Sparren, rushes to make a left on Elingham St., and another right onto Calderon Rd.; four minutes left.

Crimson Cedar Place comes up and Song knows he will soon have to make a left onto Fallhaven; three minutes left.

Finally, one last left onto Camino Del Sur, and it’s a sprint to the finish.

Into the gates of Westview, he arrives at classroom A104, with one minute to spare.

Sweat beads drip from his forehead, he sees the comfort of his chair waiting for him; Song is panting, but he made it, and just in time..

“I think of [running] as training for soccer,” Song said. “It’s worth it because running [takes up] only a short time and I get to learn a lot here.”

At Mt. Carmel he does not have the opportunity to take AP Computer Science, a class he is really interested in, so every day he comes to Westview for his last class.

However, not every day is like this.

Monday through Thursday Song has lunch, which is followed by an off-role, leaving him 45 minutes to get to class. It is only on Fridays when Song has to worry about getting to class on time.

“It is fun running as fast as I can to get here on time,” he said. “I [don’t] slow down at all; I just kept the same pace and focused on getting here on time.”

For Song, it isn’t just about training or the thrill of getting to class on time, he also gets to learn something he usually would not have the opportunity to. He gets to take advantage of learning about something that truly interests him.

“I was thinking it would be interesting to learn how to program and our school doesn’t offer [ AP Computer Science],” Song said. “My uncle is a programer, and what he does is pretty cool. I’d like to do that too some 

Yesterday I turned 20, like I said I would in the previous post, and this is what greeted me upon my waking.

“Hi there!

So here is the deal. I think you’re awesome and have tried really hard to figure out a way to work with you this season. That’s why I asked for more videos etc. Thing is, because of all the other moving parts and pieces, I haven’t found a way to use you in this summers shows. This is ZERO reflection on how great I think you are (hopefully as demonstrated by how hard I tried to make it work). I really hope you keep in touch and that we get to work together in the future. Best of luck on your job search.”

I’m not sharing this email to showcase compliments I was given, but rather, to clarify a strange and complicated feeling.

I had been in correspondence with this gentleman regarding this job for a little over a week, and things were looking promising. However, I still kept my head out of the clouds reminding myself that in theater casting is completely out of my control and nine times out of a ten I will receive a no.

As I woke up to this email on my birthday, I wasn’t sure what the appropriate reaction was. I glanced over at the kind words and felt so grateful to have been turned down in such an uplifting way. Then I immediately shifted to I’m-totally-fine-I’m-strong-it-doesn’t-matter-to-me-at-all mode.

The truth is, I lost out on a job, and that sucks. But I didn’t allow myself to think that at all because I had to be okay! It was my birthday and today HAD to be perfect.

Turns out, not all birthdays are perfect. Not all days are perfect, and that okay. Now, this wasn’t at all a reflection of the people in my life, they did everything they could to make my day as perfect as it could be. External forces ended up getting the best of me, though. I had class from 9-5:30 that day, which included three midterms, (one of which was for my least favorite teacher ever who made me cry but still gave me an A), no time to eat dinner, rehearsal till ten (where I tried to scarf down a fourth of a bag of sour patch kids), and I had started my period the day before so I was a little emotional and bloated. I felt so sad and on the verge of tears the entire day, but somehow I was okay. This was the biggest oxymoron I’ve ever been faced with.

Later that day I called my dad and as soon as he asked me how my day was, the floodgates opened. I talked at him for about eight minutes, and then my phone died and hung up on him. As soon as I called him back I talked at him a little longer until he managed to stop me when I finally paused for a breath. He said, “Let me talk.”

He ignored everything about the midterms and asshole teacher and sour patch dinner and said, “You’re upset about the job.”

I quickly refuted his statement saying, “No, of course not, I’m fine, it’s not a big deal.”

But he stopped me again and said I needed to acknowledge and accept my feelings. Bottling them up all day is what set me on edge and kept me there for the rest of the day.

How could I not bottle up my feelings though? Yes I was upset about not getting the job, but I felt so selfish for being upset. Here I have a director wanting so badly to cast me and went out of his way to tell me how much he liked me. Here I made it farther than most people do with auditions, farther than I did last year. Here I had proof that I am worthy of being cast and valuable enough to fight for, so how do I have any right to be sad?

What my dad made me realize was two fold:

1-    Be kind to your feelings. I always thought this and I always say this to other people, but like I’ve said, taking your own advice seems to be the hardest thing to do. EVER. My dad reminded me that I need to feel my feelings, that I need to let myself be a little pissed off and cry a little about it, but it couldn’t extend longer than 24 hours because then it just becomes sulking and self-pity. Too often we are told how we are supposed to feel and when we’re supposed to have our feelings. When in reality, our feelings don’t care one bit when and how they come out, they just want to be felt.

2-    We’re allowed to be happy and sad at the same time, and often that is the case. In January I got to work with the great Andrew Lippa for a couple of days on a performance. He had many life lessons to talk to us about, and what he had to say was gold. He really impressed upon us how important it was for us to understand that we can be both happy and sad at the same time, and how healthy that can be. These emotions go hand in hand, and they’re neither better nor worse than one another. They are simply emotions that demand to be acknowledges.

Here I had the most perfect example of both of these lessons, and I finally let them sink in. I cried in the Kroger parking lot about the job and then reflected on how lucky I was. I have the most amazing people in my life, I have experienced some incredible things, and this was the first birthday I ever felt a little sad. Every year I get a bit nostalgic about getting older, but I have never had a reason to feel truly sad on my birthday, not even this birthday. I am more than thankful for that.

When all is said and done, listening to my parents is the best thing I could ever do for myself. They know what they’re talking about. I’m a lucky girl.

3.4.15

I turn twenty tomorrow. I know it’s not that old to some people, but it’s going to be the oldest I’ve ever been.

Each birthday, I tend to get rather nostalgic, and this year I happened to be reading some old columns I had written for my high school newspaper. It’s crazy that many of the things I wrote about then still pertains to my life today. And strange enough, very first column I ever wrote stuck with me the most.

“I’m in no hurry.”

The words rang in my ears as I tapped my foot and repeatedly checked my watch. I had a can of dry roasted almonds in my left hand and some orbit peppermint gum in my right.

 The man in front of me had a cart full of groceries and when he looked behind him, he saw a frantic girl who appeared to be pressed for time, so he said; “You can go in front of me”—

 When I didn’t respond, he continued by saying;

 “I’m in no hurry.”

 At first, I was taken aback. Why had he offered me this?

Right away, I realized I was tapping my foot and glancing at my watch every 10 seconds.

Then I began to think; Where am I going after this? Why am I so frantic? Am I in a hurry? Should I be? Was my impatience that obvious?

The gentleman gazed back at me with a slight smile on his face. He was older and appeared to be in no hurry at all.

I graciously accepted his offer and went on my way, but as I left and drove home, his words replayed themselves in my thoughts.

“I’m in no hurry.”

 Looking back at my week, I realized I was acting as if I were in a hurry every day. I would fidget my way through the lines at Starbucks, I would anticipate the end of my shift at work, I would carelessly push the speed limits while going places. Never once was I late for anything, though.

Time after time I was seeking instant gratification, I was frustrated with having to wait for anything, I was constantly needing to be doing something.

My week was a blur of rushed memories.

  “I’m in no hurry.” 

The words clouded my thoughts as I sat immobile in the parking lot. I soon realized it wasn’t just that week, I had been rushing through so many things in my life. 

 I rushed through anything school-related. I rushed through the time I spent with my friends, I rushed through family dinners.

I was letting each day sprint on as I failed to appreciate what the day brought me. Memories, happiness; my childhood.

“I’m in no hurry.”

With every day I raced to get to the end of, I let slip away one more piece of my childhood that I had left to cherish.

My entire life I knew what the next year would bring. First preschool then kindergarten, then on to first grade, then second and so on. Now it is senior year, 12^th grade, and the thought of where I will be next year, who I will be next year, and what I will be doing next year is terrifying because I can’t answer these questions.

Not only can I not answer these them, but as each day passes, next year approaches. My ambiguous future is creeping up behind me and all I want to do is go back to preschool where nap time was routine.

I’m in no hurry

I’m in no hurry to get to the front of the line. I’m in no hurry to finish the day. I’m in no hurry to grow up.

What I really need to do is appreciate each day as it comes. I need to appreciate the friends I surround myself with. I need to appreciate the time I have with my family. I need to appreciate my time as a kid.

“I’m in no hurry.”

The kind man who said those words to me had no idea what inner dialogue he had provoked in me, but it was something I needed to hear.

 I need to calm down, take a deep breath and remember that

“I’m in no hurry.”

I eventually arrived at my destination; my home.

I walked in and saw my family in the living room, so I joined them.

I opened my can of dry roasted almonds and smiled as I savored the time with my family;

 “I’m in no hurry.”

Taking advice from myself is definitely the hardest thing to do, and I still have yet to master the art of doing so, but it’s a battle that I am willing to work at every day. I may never master it, but I will never stop trying to be a better me.