I got to thinking about perfection. Why do we strive to make everything so unattainable? Is perfection healthy? Does it motivate us? I don’t really think so. Working hard is important, but at the end of the day, doing just what you could is enough. Do your best. That’s really what counts.

In no way am I a perfectionist. I like things done the way I like them, but I don’t see the need to stress about perfection. Nothing is perfect. And that’s okay. We have to learn that nothing in life will ever be perfect. We can’t always have the perfect job, relationship, body, or grades… to name a few. But who needs perfection? Isn’t life a little more exciting when it’s unpredictable… when it’s about doing our best and leaving it at that? When today, and every other day after that, comes to a close, remember that you did what you could. Don’t stress about what you could’ve done. Just always remember that if you tried your best, you have done everything right. So sleep soundly!

I got to thinking about taking chances. When will it be the right time to take a chance? If not now, when? Should we go after everything we want? Or should we stick to the sidelines and play it safe? We’ve all taken chances. And some of these chances have turned out tremendously, others, not so much. And it’s those times when our chances turn out badly that makes us run. We run away from our dreams; we run away from our mistakes. But we shouldn’t. We should always remember that trying is half the battle. Trying something new is brave. Trying something new is fearless. Whether or not that turns out in our favor, we shouldn’t regret it. We took a chance. That’s all we can really do in this life.

I got to thinking about love today; it is Valentine’s Day, after all. Love is something I hold very dear to my heart. Love is not something I take lightly. When it all comes down to it, love is not just three little words mumbled before bedtime; love is sustained by those simple actions we do for each other every single day. That’s real love. Being able to know that someone is there for you. That’s real love. Someone who’s always on your side truly loves you, even when they can tell you that you’re wrong. Love is the greatest gift God has bestowed upon us, so we shouldn’t take it for granted. To all those lovers out there today, may you find your soul mate. Saint Valentine would want that.

🙂

I got to thinking about growing up. When do we really reach maturity? Should we automatically be mature, having it all figured out by our twenties? Or does it take much longer than that? I’m not really sure when maturity is supposed to sink in, but I’ve always figured it should happen by college. Shouldn’t we be independent (or somewhat independent) by now? So why are many people still completely immature?

This quote from Never Been Kissed always gets me thinking about maturity: “Boys, you know, I’d like to tell you that we grow out of it. But that’s a lie. Some of us will always be rattling cages.” And I think that’s true. Not just men, but women, too. Some of us will always be immature, not really knowing how to be an adult. Why do we do that? Is it out of fear? Is it a defense mechanism? Growing up is scary; I’m about to face the real world and couldn’t be more terrified. But you know what? I’m also excited. Growing up doesn’t have to be a stressful thing. I think that once you accept that you’re an adult, you’ll be liberated from any kind of fear that spurs immaturity. So grow up. Be liberated. You won’t regret it.

I got to thinking about forgiveness. I will be the first one to admit that I’m not too fond of that. I can barely say the word. When someone acts without loyalty, what is there to do? You can either forgive or you can forget. I usually choose the latter. And I’m not saying that’s a good quality. Forgiveness heals all wounds. Forgiveness makes you feel better. Isn’t that what life is all about?

But something has come to my attention as of late. I have learned that you can forget things easily. Moving things to the back of the mind is a simple task. It’s forgiveness that takes courage. It’s forgiveness that takes strength. And I want to be a strong, courageous person. I must forgive. We are all human; mistakes are inevitable. Feeling hurt is part of life. I never really wanted to understand that.  But I must. I must allow forgiveness in my heart so I can feel better. I don’t want to live my life bitter. Instead, I will be strong and courageous. I will be the person I always knew I could be. And I can’t ask for anything more

This is a true story.

Fear of Flight: The 9/11 Connection

The first time I traveled on an airplane was in December 1990 when I moved from Phoenix, Arizona to Seattle, Washington as an infant. Since then, I have traveled countless times to places within the United States including Wisconsin, Hawaii, and North Carolina. In all but one flight, I traveled with my parents. I enjoyed knowing that I would be in a different place in less than six hours. I always ordered my ginger ale, sat back, and listened to my CD player in peace. It had become second nature to me, and I loved the quick possibilities flying had to offer. I had never felt a fear to fly. Even after terrorists deliberately crashed airplanes into the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001 after an airplane hijacking, I was not afraid to fly, possibly because I had never been immersed in a situation of grave danger. I had never encountered a security threat, let alone when I was by myself. I was profoundly affected by this situation. Because I was in the midst of the highest security threat an airport can have in Atlanta, and I was in potential danger, I have a connection, built upon fear, with the terrorist attacks of September eleventh. I have learned that one does not necessarily have to be directly immersed in an event to be profoundly and utterly affected by it, as I was affected by September eleventh due to my experience with a security threat in Atlanta.

To begin with, I decided to visit a friend, Paulina, who I had met at a creative writing workshop at Duke University, one summer in South Carolina. I worked over the holiday season to finance the trip, and I was excited for it to begin. We spent an amazing two weeks discussing boys, our fears of college, and our sadness that we live across the country from each other. My vacation without my family was truly a success. However, flying back from a wonderful visit to South Carolina transpired into a night of horror. Fatigued one August night, I stepped off of the plane in Atlanta from my connecting flight in Charlotte. As I approached the departures kiosk I searched for Air Tran flight eleven departing to Seattle. I stared at the screen for what seemed like hours desperately trying to find my flight and avoiding the possibility of having missed it at eleven o’clock in the evening. My flight was not on the kiosk; at that moment, I knew I was stranded for the night. My heart sank and I began to cry, for I was alone in an airport two-thousand five hundred miles away from home, and I was merely sixteen, a child in the eyes of the law. I could not rent a hotel room alone; I began to wonder where I would stay for the night and if I would be safe. I was incredibly terrified to be alone, my hands and lips quivered like a child lost in the middle of a mall. I did not know that what I would encounter next would be much more traumatic that merely missing my flight and not having a place to stay for the night.

Then, my fear turned into utter panic and I began to sweat. An announcement abruptly came on to alert the passengers in the Atlanta airport of a security threat. The security threat color had been raised to red, the most dangerous level for security threats in an airport, and the suspicions from security personnel and passengers were high. When the announcement was repeated, I listened more intently. A man wearing a black coat of average height was in the terminal and had gotten past security stealthily and unchecked. I looked around in fear and desperation, not knowing what to do or who to trust. To add to my fears, I remembered that I was stranded for the night as well. Needless to say, my suspicions and fears were unusually high; I was without the comfort of my family and in the same terminal where a person with a weapon may very well be. I ran into the bathroom so fast I could barely feel my feet and cried hopelessly, wondering if my life would cease in the next several moments. This was the moment where I lost hope, having no idea how I would pick myself back up again.

After that, I finally forced myself to calm my nerves and stand in the Air Tran customer service line that stretched down the mile-long terminal; I had to keep my mind from wandering off into thoughts of what could happen if I was indeed, faced with danger that I could not overcome. I waited almost two hours in the customer service line, distracting myself with pleasant memories of my vacation in South Carolina. I also told myself I had to be brave. When I finally reached the front of the line, I was told that not a single flight was coming in or going out because of the security threat and a little weather problem known as ‘thunderstorms.’ The thunderstorm problem lurking in the humid Atlanta skies seemed so small compared to what truly was keeping us passengers imprisoned inside of the airport.

In relation to this recent security scare in Atlanta, one of the most frequented international passenger airports in the United States, I was reminded too much of September 11, 2001. I remember watching in horror as the World Trade Center fell down into the streets of New York City like a kite on a windy day. I listened to the news woman discuss that airplanes were hijacked, and lives were taken due to poor security measures and hateful terrorist antics.  While in Atlanta with the high security threat lingering over my mind, I thought that this could be another September eleventh, and that fear took over me. I felt nauseous and alone and in the wake of grave danger; I truly believed that I could possibly be one of the next thousands of victims targeted by terrorists and killed. The security threat held at red and the mysterious man who somehow got past security unnoticed encouraged these thoughts. I prayed and prayed, hoping that day would not be repeated, not for me, not for anyone.

Luckily, within two hours security found the mysterious man who had gotten past them. Since the passengers did not receive specific information pertaining to this man, I began to wonder who he was. I wondered what his motive was to strike fear into the passengers of the Atlanta airport. I wondered what he looked like, sinister, or simply like a regular man on the street. Unfortunately, none of this information was ever disclosed, and I still continue to wonder. My heart fell back into place at this announcement. I smiled for the first time that hectic night. However, I have never felt at ease the same way I did when flying before this experience because it was so close to home, because it happened right in front of my own eyes, because it was an event in my life now and can never be taken out of my memories. The horror of my experience in Atlanta clung to me so tight I knew I would never recover. I did not want to get on another airplane after this incident. I wondered if there was a bomb on the airplane or someone would have a weapon and use it destructively to overtake the airplane. Even though security has become more efficient and strict, I still am uneasy.

I also realized after this experience how real September eleventh was, how terrified those victims on the United flight ninety-three must have been. I felt connected to them during my experience, for I truly came to understand the emotion of incredible fear, not knowing if you are going to get out of the situation alive. During this experience I learned how terrorism can affect anyone, anytime, anywhere. I was forced to understand the fact that terrorism is truly out there and very real. I learned that fear was greater than me, that you never know when it can and will sneak into your life.

The event of September 11, 2001 and the security threat I experienced in Atlanta greatly impacted and altered my actions. I am disappointed to say that I no longer enjoy air travel and I am in suspicion of anyone in a public place, especially an airport. My fears of a day like September 11, 2001 repeating itself have increased tremendously because of my night of a potentially perilous scare. My experience will stay with me for the rest of my life, forcing me to always be more cautious than the next person, as it did for many survivors of the horrible events of September eleventh. I am connected to those who survived the terrorist attacks of September eleventh because I was in the midst of a security threat in Atlanta. The September eleventh connection gave me firsthand knowledge of what true and utter fear is like. One absolutely does not have to be directly immersed in a large public event, such as September eleventh, to be greatly affected by it. I realized how real fear is, whether it is irrational or not. I highly doubt I will encounter an event as traumatizing as the one I experienced in Atlanta again in my lifetime, but that does not mean I am any less terrified to fly. Every time I step into an airport I know my hands will shake ferociously because that fear will never subside, because I am connected to the events of September eleventh, and because I am utterly afraid to fly.

This is the synopsis from a full-length script I have worked on at LMU. I love this story. I think it’s deeply liberating and real. What are your thoughts?

-Caroline 🙂

CLARA RANDOLPH is a seventeen-year-old high school senior growing up in the small town of Merryville, Georgia. Clara has dreams of leaving her small town life behind to attend college at Tulane University in New Orleans, Louisiana. To do so, Clara competes in the Miss Georgia Teen USA pageant—and wins. This is the first scene of the script.

Clara is the poster child for abstinence in Merryville. If she screws it up, she knows that she will be the subject of scrutiny from a town unforgiving of liars. In a way, Clara’s fighting against the town throughout the story.

The story begins with Clara in a Georgia Teens Fighting Against the Type meeting, a group promoted by Miss Georgia Teen USA, which advocates celibacy. In these meetings, Clara upholds a certain innocence that promotes her views of anti-teenage pregnancy. Clara believes that teenage pregnancy can make a child feel unwanted, or that the child was a mere mistake. Her mother, JANE, had Clara as a teenager and Clara never wanted to be like her mother. Clara’s immature father immediately walked away from the situation, leaving Clara to be raised by just a mother. For that, Clara has always been resentful of her father. Even as her father grows up and tries to make amends, Clara does not want anything to do with him.

Upholding her duties as Miss Georgia Teen USA and a Georgia Teens Fighting Against the Type advocate, Clara takes an oath to remain pure until marriage to avoid unwanted pregnancy. Clara is held to moral turpitude in her contract with Miss Georgia Teen USA. If she abides by the guidelines in the contract, the pageant will cover the cost of tuition and housing at the college of Clara’s choice. Since Clara is not affluent by any means, this is her ticket to college. Clara is a likable character, albeit slightly in tune with her preacher instincts, because she merely wants to attend college and escape the world she lives in where teen pregnancy is so prevalent.

The inciting incident begins when Clara and her boyfriend, BEN, are shown having sex for the first time together. Ben gives Clara a promise ring, expressing his love for her. They commence in lovemaking, not sex. Stealthily, Ben hides a camera in one of Clara’s teddy bears to record the incident.

Plot point one shows Clara fighting off morning sickness that she claims is merely the swine flu. Plot point one assists to ask the central dramatic question: how will Clara deal with her hypocrisy in the spotlight?

Ending the first act reveals that Clara is indeed, pregnant after having sex with Ben. Clara’s reputation is at stake now. Clara has just broken her contract with Miss Georgia Teen USA. Clara is a hypocrite. Clara’s best friend, MELISSA, stands by Clara through thick and thin, even though she disagrees with Clara’s choices.

Moving into the second act, Clara visits an abortion clinic in a different town with Melissa. Clara mistakenly walks into a room where an abortion is going on, which turns Clara off to the idea. From here, Clara’s problems grow.

Clara decides to tell Ben that she is pregnant. Ben first becomes angry with Clara, wondering how one condom breaking could make him a father. Ben calms down, asking Clara what she is going to do, about the baby and the pageant. Clara does not have answers at this point. Ben promises to stay by Clara’s side with whatever decision she decides to make.

Ben visits a reporter’s office with the tape he made of Clara and himself. Ben does this because he receives a large sum of money, something more important to him than his relationship with Clara. The reporter, BECKY, becomes the central antagonist of the story. Becky begins to dig up dirt on Clara to find every gritty detail of Clara’s so-called “moral” life. Becky even finds RICKY, Clara’s peer whom she has been having sex with on and off for almost two years. The friendship and love between Ricky and Clara is not fully revealed until the end of the story. But Ricky is the real love of Clara’s life, not Ben.

At the midpoint of the story, the sex tape between Ben and Clara surfaces on the internet and television.

At the all hope is lost moment, Clara’s school begins to scream at Clara during lunch about her hypocrisy, now that it is officially revealed that she is fraud. The scene becomes violent; Ricky steps in and pulls Clara away to safety from her angry peers. Ricky tells Clara that she should just own up to her actions and admit to her mistakes.

Clara visits the Miss Georgia Teen USA offices and apologizes for her actions. She realizes that her tuition to Tulane is off the table, but still wants to own up to what she believes is right. MISS TURNER, is angry that Clara was so irresponsible with such a big honor. Miss Turner asks Clara to read the article Becky published regarding high school sex. Clara is the star of the article. In return, Clara asks Miss Turner to come to graduation, as Clara knows that this is where she has to make it right.

The resolution to the story is at graduation. Since Clara is valedictorian, she is required to make a speech to her peers and their families. In this speech, Clara admits to her mistakes. She discusses how she lost her virginity at age sixteen with Ricky, not six months ago with Ben. Clara apologizes for advocating something that she did not fully believe in. In this moment, Clara is sincere; her hypocrisy is less than evident. But Clara finally admits that having a child at such a young age is not the worst thing that could have happened to her. Clara acknowledges that Jane did it, and Jane is the most sincere and honest person she knows. Clara aspires to be like Jane. Clara says that she plans on keeping the baby and attending Tulane. She implies—Why not have it all? The crowd gives Clara a standing ovation for owning up to her mistakes.

I got to thinking about giving up. There are times when I feel giving up is the best possibility. There won’t be more trials and tribulations once you give up. You’re free of stress. You’re free of problems. But is that really true? I’d like to think it is; it would make our lives that much easier. But it’s completely false. When you’re thinking of giving up, you must remember why you held on so long. Why was this important to you? And will it be important to you if you think back on it two months from now?
I’ve learned that giving up doesn’t solve problems. In fact, giving up exemplifies that you can’t complete a task because it’s too difficult. And who wants to be like that? Where’s the drive in that? I think it’s imperative to be one of those people who refuse to give up, no matter what. When you refuse to give up on your goal or your friend or your job, the end result may not be perfect, but at least you’ll know that you gave it your all. And that’s all anyone can really ask for.

NEVER NEVER GIVE UP.

I got to thinking about knowing when things are right. When do you know if you’re ready for something? Is it merely that feeling in your gut that tells you to go on? Or is it something more? I whole-heartedly believe in female intuition; we know when things aren’t right, like when our gut tells us not to get on the elevator with the strange man. But that’s the problem. Can we know when things are right? And why is this such a dilemma?

There are some things that I have jumped into without much thought. I didn’t bother to think if it was right or not. But there are other things that require more deliberation. And I honestly don’t believe we’ll ever know if things will be right. But I believe that trusting your intuition will get you to where you want to be. Things may never be perfect, and that’s certainly okay. We must understand that taking a chance can be more rewarding than sitting back. Things will always fall into place.

I got to thinking today about loyalty. There are times when I think most of us don’t possess it. And that’s the worst, to think that your close friends won’t stand up for you. Or that your close friends won’t really be there when you need it. They say they will, but when the time comes, they’re nowhere to be found. I’d hope that my friends wouldn’t let me down. I’d hope that my friends wouldn’t make me feel so hurt. But it happens. And that lack of loyalty will only make me stronger, even if the initial sting is sharply painful.

But I’m certainly not saying all of my friends have been that way. I have some fiercely loyal friends who will fight for us until the end. And for them, I am ever grateful. They are the people I can call about anything. They’ll always be on my side. I would do anything for these friends, and it’s nice to know that they have my back. And they know who they are. And for that, I will always remain loyal to them. Because what’s friendship without loyalty?