7. Reflecting on My Narrative

          Writing a paper on a story from my life is one of the most fun assignments I have ever had to do in my writing scholastic career. That is half because it is so easy to write about a story that I know better than anyone else, and half because I'm just the sort of person who likes to tell stories. I knew the basic format for writing a narrative because in the sixth grade I decided that if Stephanie Meyer could become a famous author, surely I could too. I researched all I could about how to write in this style and started my book which one got to about three short chapters. When I go back to read those chapters now I laugh at how good I thought it was at the time. So since the format wasn't a real stumbling block for me, I kind of just thought of a story that was important to me from my past and let my fingers write whatever they felt like. I really enjoy writing narratives in general. While I sometimes complain about writing papers for my classes, if they were all narratives I would gladly do every single one. The only thing I would change about the experience I had would be to pick a shorter story. I felt like mine went on for a while, but I also felt like I couldn't leave anything I had put in there out. All in all, I really liked writing this narrative essay.

6. Through the Eyes of a Little Girl

I sat on the cold steel bleacher bench next to my mommy and my little seven year-old body jumped up and down in anticipation. I just couldn’t hold still. It had to be only thirty degrees outside, but I couldn’t feel it; I was too excited. This was it. Jane, my hero, the big sister I had never had, was about to walk out on stage and she was going to wow the judges so much that they would give her the crown right on he spot. She had done awesome so far in the competition; there was no way she could not win!

My mommy smiled down at me, chuckling a little at my uncontrollable excitement. “Mommy, you think Jane’s going to win, right? She’s going to win for sure!” My comment only made her smile grow bigger.

“And now, contestant number six, Jane Smith!” I yelped and quickly turned my attention back to the stage. As I watched, Jane stepped out onto the stage with a slightly nervous smile that grew more confident and more gorgeous the longer she was on stage. But as her smile grew, mine slowly but surely slipped off my face, until no trace of it remained.

            With wide and confused eyes I turned to my mommy, “Mommy, why is she wearing that dress?” My mommy hesitated to turn to me, but when she did she had no answer for me. Jane looked absolutely beautiful, like I knew she would, but her lovely, midnight blue evening gown, that seemed to sparkle and fit her wonderfully, did not have sleeves. I was seven. I didn’t know much, but I knew that Jane was one of the Laurels who had come to my Primary class and told all of us all about the importance of modesty. I knew that I never seen her in anything immodest before, and I knew that until that moment I had always wanted to be just like her when I grew up.

The competition ended. Jane didn’t win. Mommy was going to take me up to congratulate her, but it was getting colder by the minute and I told her I wanted to go home.

The next day at church I saw her and she smiled and held out her arms for me to jump into, just like usual. I knew I should have beamed and run into her arms, but I just couldn’t. “Jane I saw you in the competition last night.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Oh! I didn’t know you came! Did you like it?”

I nodded, but then said, “Why did you wear that dress? It was immodest.”

She stood there for a few moments in alarm not knowing what to say. “Oh, uh, I guess, I didn’t know that you would be there. I didn’t know that anyone would care.”

She looked at me with a sort of hopeless expression.

Wham!

I’m knocked out of my memory and off of the chair I was sitting on by two adorable sets of little arms. “Ouff!”

            “Kira!!! Spin me! Spin me!”

            “No Kiwwaa! Spin me!!!”

I sit up, smiling despite the slight bump I have on my head now.  I never should have spun them the first time I came over here, but that first day I was so lost and overwhelmed I would have tried anything. Now that’s all they wanted me to do for the full three hours I spend with them every other week! “Okay fine, but only a few more times!”

            “Yay!” They both leap away to the more spacious living room with their arms in the air and huge smiles on their faces. I stay there sitting on the carpeted floor for just another few seconds dreading the state I know I’ll be in in about fifteen minutes, but I get up anyway knowing if I don’t get in there soon they’ll just come running back in to tackle me again.

            “I’m going first!” Katie says running up to me.

            “No Kaywwie you aaaalways go first!” Lena says with a pout on her face. I love that little girl but she is always such a drama queen.

            “Katie, how about we let Lena go first this time. Ok?” Knowing Katie to be the more diplomatic one since she is older by two years, I know she’ll have no problem with this.

            “Okay.” She backs up to sit on the couch and wait while Lena comes squealing towards me, practically jumping on me with happiness. I firmly grab her tiny little forearms slowly begin to turn in a circle. As I start to turn faster and faster Lena lets her little body hang limp so that the centripetal force pulls against her until she is pretty much parallel to the ground. Her little peals of laughter make me smile. I stop after a few moments even though it feels like forever. If I want to keep this up and not fall over puking from dizziness I am going to have to make each girl’s “turn” rather short.

            After three turns each I can barely see straight. I flop on the hard wooden floor with a groan, but the little angels will have none of that. “Kiwwa! Again! Again!” Lena yells as she jumps on me and I pretend her light body knocks the wind out of me. Katie soon joins her and I just lay there letting them “overpower” me.

I am saved by the sound of the garage door opening though. Their heads whip up and they run screaming towards the laundry room. I slowly get up and start to gather my things. I’m hopping on one foot trying to get my shoes one when Kim walks into the room, one girl clinging to each leg. “Hey! How’d it go?”

“It went great! They were perfect, like usual.”

“And Willy?”

“He’s asleep in his crib, surprisingly enough. How was the Ward Adult Date Night?”

She shakes her head a little and smiles even more. “Oh, you know. Those little old ladies are so cute.” I chuckle knowing exactly how cute the eccentric old ladies that go to my church are.

“Did you eat all of my food, Standring?” a deeper voice calls out.

I grin as Jared joins his wife in the hall. “Almost, but I left just a little bit, just for you.”

He grins as well and bumps my shoulder as he continues on to the kitchen. Kim just laughs.

“So, I’ll just get your money and let you drive home then! I know you probably have a ton of homework.”

            I laugh. “Yeah, well for once I’m not half as stressed about my calculus homework as I am about tomorrow.”

            She gasps. “Oh, that’s right! Your Junior Miss competition is tomorrow isn’t it?”

            I nod. For the past few months I, and a few of my other fellow high school juniors, had been practicing night and day for this big day. It was a scholarship competition where judges from out of the area were going to judge us on talent, fitness, intellect, self-expression, and an individual interview. Both the winner of every section and the girls who did best in all the areas combined would be awarded scholarship money for college. I entered the competition just for fun, but now that it was just tomorrow, I was freaking out!

            “Well then, you better get home! You’re going to have a long day!”

            “Yeah. We get picked up a 8:00 AM tomorrow and spend the whole day getting ready”

            Kim sighs and smiles like the adorable sweet lady she is. “Well, I know you’ll do great.”

            “Thanks. I hope so.”

******************************************************************************

            The next day passes in a blur and before I know it, it’s the last portion of the competition. So far, my freaking out has been totally justified. I accidentally ran off stage too early in the Fitness portion, my mic hadn’t worked properly for my talent, and while my interview hadn’t been a total disaster, my usual confidence when speaking to a large group had mysteriously disappeared. I take a deep breath and a moment to gather my senses before grabbing my floor length dress to change for the Self-Expression portion.

I really like my dress. It’s blue with a poufy ball gown type of skirt and it has silver sequins literally everywhere. It is a completely shoulderless dress, but it came with a simple matching little jacket that my mom spruced up with even more sequins. The first time I wore it all the girls said I looked like Cinderella. I had laughed at them, half because that was silly considering my very dark brown hair, and half because I had always wished I were a princess when I was little.

After running to the bathroom and throwing on the dress I realize I have left the jacket out in the gym we are using as “backstage.” I walk out and over to my table to search for it and just when I’ve found it I feel a cold hand on my shoulder.

“Wow! Kira you look beautiful!” I smile at Eve, a girl that is really hard to get along with, but I have always been nice to.

“Thanks.” I reply simply.

“No, but Kira really. You look so good with your dress just how it is right now. You should just not wear the jacket.” A few of the other girls around agree with her, telling me how beautiful I look and that the jacket just detracts from the dress.

I turn and look in the mirror. They are right. I have never really considered myself a pretty person, but seeing myself, right now in this beautiful sleeveless dress, I look stunning. I smile and am about to drop the jacket back on the table and agree with them, when my gaze travels from the bottom of my dress up, and settle on my eyes. Only a few milliseconds pass, but it feels like a million years as I stare at my reflection and her eyes challenge me saying, Really? My grip on my jacket tightens just as it is about to fall from my fingers.

“Thanks guys. But I’m still gonna wear it.”

They all grin as though they understand, when really they think I’m crazy and drift back over to their own tables. I take a deep breath and put on the jacket. When I turn around and look up I see my best friend Gabby looking at me. She smiles a real smile. She may not hold the same standards of modesty as I do, but she understands and supports me. We all line up and head out for the last portion of the competition.

I don’t win, although I do get Third Runner-up, which means I get $300, and Gabby gets First Runner-up. It doesn’t matter, the whole process has been so much fun. Everyone’s families are on the stage congratulating their daughters. I glance over my shoulder and see Eve sulking in the back. I know it’s horrible of me, but I smirk just a little. She was so certain she was going to win everything and was rather rude about broadcasting her opinion.

“Kiwwa!”

My head whips back around and I see Kim right there in front of me hold the hands of both of her little daughters. They break away from their mom and rush over to come hug me. I smile and hug them back.

“I didn’t know you guys were coming!”

Kim smiles back at me. “Well, the girls wanted to come see you. You did great by the way! And Kira,” she leans in closer and her voice lowers just a bit, “Thank you. Thank you so much, for being modest.” Both of our gazes glance over to a girl across the stage for a moment. She is also a member of our church, but her beautiful evening gown does not have any sleeves.

I look back down at the darling girls in front of me. I look at little six-year old Katie and for a second I see a little seven-year old girl with dark brown hair looking back at me instead. Instead of seeing a big smile and bright eyes, I see a confused expression and hurt eyes. I look back up as Kim hugs me and as I burrow my head into her shoulder, my eyes fill with grateful tears.

Words of Wisdom From the Wise #9

"Be who you are, and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind." - Bernard M. Baruch

Words of Wisdom From the Wise #8

"I wish every day could be Halloween. We could all wear masks all the time. Then we could walk around and get to know each other before we got to see what we looked like under the masks." - R.J. Palacio, Wonder 

Words of Wisdom From the Wise #7

"Just because one's personal problem is less traumatic than another’s doesn't mean they’re required to hurt less." - J.A. Redmerski

5. Look Sis. Steadman, No Hands!

I'll be honest, I don't really like writing long papers, but then again who does? So being told I'd have to write a 10 pages research paper in my Writing 150 class gave me absolutely no joy at all. Even worse, the prompt we were given seemed so ambiguous that I thought I would never be able to come up with a topic to write about. Our section is very Family History oriented and so we were told to pick a family story we liked and write about an issue that somehow connected to that story. So after much pondering and stress on my part I decided on a story......type thing. My Grandma is Mexican, yet she denies if every time I bring it up. I wanted to know why. But that wasn't really a good enough topic, SO NOW WHAT? Well, eventually I did some more research and found out about a few reasons someone in her position might not want to identify as Mexican. I still felt pretty hopeless about it all but I was moving forward. After much more toil and labor, I actually came to enjoy learning about all of this history. I guess all it takes is a little breeze and a running start to take off and fly.

If you read my paper. I know what you'd say.

"Kira, your paper is talking about how Family History can be bad? Do you really believe that?"

"No, actually I don't. I love Family History and I think everyone can benefit from knowing about their roots. But, as weird as it sounds, sometimes I write the best when I'm writing from the opposite side of an argument I would usually be on. When I'm writing about something I absolutely don't believe in, I don't know, it just works I guess?"

"Well, why does any of this even matter?"

"It seems like it may be a small thing, but in reality I think this is a bigger deal than anyone realizes. I'm not even going to go into the psychological aspect of it all, because I can't explain or understand it very well myself. For some people, who their ancestors are defines their entire being. If they try their absolute hardest to ignore where they come from, or if they try to make connections where they can, they life is essentially run by their past. and if we allow our past to control us like that, we really ought to know what it is."

"Well it seems to me that..."