For Conway

As I move through the years I tend to forget what tripped me up or inspired me in the stage before the one I find myself in now. I have been asked to recall my thoughts and struggles as a 12, 13 and 14 year-old and it has been such a challenge! I spoke at Conway Middle School’s FCA (Fellowship of Christian Athletes) this morning and at Conway’s Awards Ceremony tonight. I attended both functions as a student (when Outkast was beyond trendy, Hilary Duff first starting singing and Usher taught us what it meant to burn) and I am honored to be back. I have been trying to think and act like I did in middle school in order to reconnect with this pivotal age group. Sometimes my biggest fears seem to have happened–have I truly forgotten what it was like to be in middle school? For the sake of those in middle school now, I will try to remember what fed me then and what has made me into who I am today.

To the wonderful Conway Middle schoolers reading this–hello. I am truly honored to have met each of you today and I hope my words encourage you and your journey to find yourself and your career in the colorful years ahead. This post is for you. To my fellow Shark, Leopard and Wolfpack team members, well, we know what teams are the best ones. 

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Let me start out with this: Middle school is a crucial time in your life.

Are grades important? Absolutely. But this is also a time that I look back on as having learned the most about relationships, social cues and leadership strengths in myself and others. Middle school is filled with a seemingly endless series of tests measuring how cool you can be and how cool others think you are. Are your shoes Tory Burch flats or cheaper Payless knock-offs? Mine were always, and still are, the knock-offs.

Brands in middle school are a huge deal. I get that. But why? It’s because people are trying so hard to define themselves that many people can only do it through the clothes they wear. Let me challenge you to be different.

I decided early on that the only way to break away from the chains and predictability in middle school was to question what “normal” was and to dream.

I desperately wanted to be in the in-crowd (and I still remember each of the girl’s names who were in it) but it just wasn’t working for me. I tried to sit with them one day and was told I couldn’t because I “didn’t have a freckle on my left ear.” Seriously. I cursed God for a while for not giving me a freckle on that ear and then I realized I have more to give to this world than a skin dot on the side of my face. So I started blazing my own trail. If I couldn’t be on their team then I was going to make them wish they were on mine. I had to be confident in myself and I had to be nice to everyone if things were going to change. I was fed-up with the cattiness and I realized that if I wanted more for myself then I needed to start acting that way.

But I couldn’t be nice to other people if I wasn’t comfortable with myself. I started dreaming of who I would be once I escaped middle school but realized that I had to start now. If I wanted to be a journalist or if I wanted to be a politician then I had to start as a 12 year-old. The serious middle school athletes already had college in mind, so why couldn’t I? I wanted to be remembered for something great but I knew greatness meant nothing if I didn’t love people well. So I started changing the way I saw the in-crowd and started challenging what was considered “normal”. I started dreaming under that big oak tree by the sixth grade area.

I became friends with most of my teachers and took it upon myself to ask about their children and to visit them in between classes. I started saying hello to the janitors who cleaned the bathrooms and to the kids who struggled with speaking English. No one was below a simple “hello” and every person deserved my respect. In the process, I learned that girls are mean and boys are stupid. It’s when I learned that treating everyone with dignity and respect was difficult but the only path to take. I learned to laugh at myself after others had laughed at me. It’s where I learned that rejection can either fuel you or shrink you.

I went out for any sports team at Conway that peaked my interest. I wanted to try volleyball so I showed up and gave it a shot. During tryouts, I punched the ball so hard it landed in the rafters and never came down. I wasn’t asked back for the second round. So I went out for the track team. I had worked hard for it and was thrilled when I found out I made then team (then I found out everyone made the team. ha!). I also tried out for my church’s music group. I received an email the next week that literally said, “We believe God has better plans for you”. The girls and guys in the in-group weren’t trying new things. They were too afraid. I never wanted fear of failure to stop me from trying–from dreaming.

I ran for student government that year and called on all of my friends to help me win. I realized then that the popular “in” group probably wasn’t going to vote anyway. I started campaigning to the goths, the smart kids, the athletes, the first generation immigrants and the book lovers. Through campaigning I built friendships with people all over campus. I made it a point to know as many names as possible. At the end of the campaign, I made friends with the janitors and bathroom keepers to help me take down the flyers. I won that election and I started tasting the results of my dreams. I found great strength and inspiration by simply being nice to the people around me.

I always felt a rush from accomplishing a goal. I would always write it down and stop at nothing until it became a reality. I got a rush of sorts from breaking a stereotype and became obsessed with turning a “no” into a “yes”. I respected authority (and still do) but I hope I always challenge it. I would often (and still) ask myself, “Why can’t I do that?”. Usually it’s just because I haven’t tried yet.

It was still cool to curse, kiss more boys (or girls), stay out late at the mall and show the most skin without breaking the dress code (or breaking it and raising your shoulders so your arms seemed shorter so your shorter shorts could stay shorter). The “cool” kids kissed the hottest people in the class (and in between classes), broke rules and didn’t get caught, had their parents consent to getting them a belly-button ring and seemed to not care about a test but would later boast about getting the highest grade.

I learned the path to popularity wasn’t the only road to travel. Knowing a kid’s name in sixth grade as an eighth grader became more important to me than laughing at that same kid wearing the awkward shorts. By following my own dreams and goals I found people who were desperate to follow theirs but were too afraid to try.

I felt the most cool in middle school when I could say, “Yea, I love this shirt and yes, it’s from Goodwill, not Abercrombie”. Sitting at the lunch table reserved for the group of girls who all look alike doesn’t help you meet new people. It’s hard to get up and sit at another table but I encourage you to push down the “I am going to throw-up now” feeling and do it. I would rather be a freak and stand up for myself and my friends than be cool and say nothing at all. With a sense of social freedom came the ability to act as myself and grow my dreams. If I wanted to do something I would do it because I knew how I felt was not based on how other people viewed me. Following my dreams helped me be myself and there is nothing cooler than that.

When I was your age one girl kept calling me an @$$ (a word that should never be in your vocabulary). I was so mad and angry and told my parents about this mean girl at school. Without skipping a beat my mom said, “Well, if she thinks you are a donkey then make the sounds of a donkey”. The next day when she called me a donkey/mule I started braying (follow the link if you don’t know what that sounds like. It’s not pleasant). Needless to say, she never made fun of me again. Like I said earlier, you have to laugh at yourself sometimes and not be so afraid of what everyone else thinks. Haters gonna hate, am I right?

So who do you want to be when you grow up? What do you dream about? The world is not black and white and some rules are meant to be broken. Starting in middle school is the best place to start. If you go on a family vacation and like where you visit, make it a goal to work there one day. Why not! I always dreamed of having an apartment in a big city in the Middle East and here I am taking a break from packing to write this because it’s actually happening for me now.

I realized, down to my knock-off Payless shoes, that I determine where my life will go. Even with bumps and failures along the way, people would either remember me as someone who judged them or as someone who made them feel important. I realized that I could play the game and be slimy and mean towards other people to get closer to the top of the social ladder or I could lock into my own potential and surround myself with people, music and words that inspired me to press on.

If you want to run for student government, do it. If you want to run track, do it. If you want to say “hi” to the janitor cleaning the bathroom, do it. Listen to your gut and develop a sensitivity to your thoughts. If you don’t do it, then who will? If you want to sing for a living then I suggest you get involved with the FCA band. If you want to write then talk to your language arts teacher after class about how to set up a blog. You literally have your whole life in front of you. You are not old and you have not aged. If you want to do something, now is the time to try. If you fail, let that push you to try harder the next time. The worst thing that can come from failure is you never trying again.

Oh yea, and “be yourself; everyone else is already taken” (Oscar Wilde).

Middle school can be rough. Trust me, I know. But let me promise you something: If you can survive middle school with dignity and a little sense of who you are then conquering the rest of the world won’t seem that hard.