Ten Feet Taller in Charisma and Strength

My dearest Poppyseed. There is a likely chance that today will be the last time I write to you as simply my Poppyseed. Tomorrow, hopefully, I will be writing to you as my Lucy or my Liam. As excited as I am for this big reveal, a small piece of me cannot help but to feel a bit nostalgic. I know. Your erratic, emotional mother at it again with her silly feelings. However, silly or not, this is undoubtedly a momentous occasion in my eyes, moving from one stage of my pregnancy to another, never again thinking of you as just my child but instead, as my son or daughter. In honor of this...graduation, allow me to share one more story for my Poppyseed. 

Your Auntie Lou Lou is my very best friend. In fact, she has gone to a lot of trouble to make this time very special for your daddy and me. This is the tale of how I met my best friend. 

When I was in high school, theatre arts was the most important thing in my life, maybe second to your dad. I loved to act. I loved being in the spotlight. The stage beckoned to me, and I answered its call. However, not only did I answer and fulfill my passion, I was quite good at it, too. Some may say I was the best. And at Ferris High School, maybe I was. Whether or not I was actually the best, I certainly believed I was. I believed I was unbeatable! The next star. The top. One thing I didn't realize at the time: it's a long fall from the top. 

Participating in UIL One Act Play, a theatre competition amongst schools in the area, was my focus from 8th grade until my senior year. One Act Play was at the forefront of my mind in the spring of 2003 as I played the role of Lady Bracknell in Oscar Wilde's The Importance of Being Earnest, my final role as a high school student.

The district competition soon came around and the cast of Earnest did not leave disappointed. In fact, as great as I thought I was, I had never before received One Act Play's highest honor for a female actor, Best Actress, given to ONE girl from all competing schools. Up to this point, I had always received the next best thing, All Star Cast Member. District competition changed that. Not only did my cast leave that night with a sure spot in the Area competition, but several cast members received All Star Cast, my good friend and cousin Trevor left with Best Actor, and your Mama left with her head held high and the most beautiful trophy in her hand, reading Best Actress District 3A. It was a night I will never forget. 

Being that we lived in a small town, we were highly esteemed high school heros when we came home. Well, that's how I remember it, anyway. Our picture was in the paper along with an article revering our talent. There was a separate picture of just Trevor and me, the  highest awarded players in the competition. We were even invited to a school board meeting, where we all received certificates for outstanding performance. We had done well, and we were ready to continue our journey to the top. Next stop, Area competition, Athens, Texas. 

My parents and cousin Christi decided to accompany me to the competition in Athens.  No one in my family was there to see my previous achievement, so they wanted to be sure to not miss it again. After watching a show or two, evaluating the competition, our cast headed to our room to get ready for show time. My family stayed in the theatre, promising to keep an eye out for any real threats to our advance to Regionals. Soon, it was our turn to perform. 

The audience was wonderful. They loved me! I had never had quite the laughs I had that night. When we were through, people complimented me, undeniably impressed with a 17 year old girl's ability to transform into an elderly, British, aristocrat of the late 19th century. I was confident that we had done it again. 

When it was nearly time for awards to be announced, I sat waiting with my cast and my family. Before the ceremony began, I asked my parents for their opinions of the shows. They, of course, were highly impressed with me, as they are a bit biased. However, they quickly began to tell me of a girl from Canton's play. They couldn't remember her name, but she was "so good." "She did a wonderful job of playing drunk, and she had a moving moment at the conclusion where her character took her own life," my mother gushed. "She was pretty good," my father added. I will admit, I was surprised. My parents never seemed to notice anyone's talent other than my own, and if they did happen to notice, they certainly didn't go on and on about it. But this girl, they LOVED her. Oh they assured me that she wasn't better than me, but they couldn't bring themselves to tell the lie that I was better than her. My confidence was shaken, but not shattered. If this girl was anything as my parents made her out to be, then surely we could have our rematch at Regionals. Then, I could decide for myself if she was anything to be in awe of. 

The MC came to the stage. The lights dimmed. The crowd became silent. It was the moment of truth. The Honorable Mention  awards were announced first. Although, I really wasn't concerned with landing this lowest of awards, I was relived as always when they had finished calling names and I was not one of the recipients. Next, was All Star Cast. I would take it. Of course. I could prove next time around that Best Actress was truly the award I deserved. I would work harder to make sure this Canton girl would be long forgotten after people saw my performance. Several people from my cast were receiving All Star Cast awards. This comforted me as none of them had ever achieved honors quite as high as I had. The All Star Cast Awards had been handed out. I cheered on several of our cast, including Trevor. "Poor guy," I thought, "won't be Best Actor this time." However, my confidence was back! There was only one award left, and it belonged to me! Just to reassure myself I turned around to whisper to my mom, "Did that girl win an award yet?"

The look on mother's face was unforgettable. She had a look of being in pain while on the verge of tears. She had covered her mouth with her hand, and as she looked at me with a most apologetic stare, she slowly shook her head from side to side. She knew. 

The next words I heard were distant, almost as if I was hearing them from underwater, my fear and shame drowning out all other sounds. "Best actress goes to..." They said a name that didn't register with me, but I heard the last part. "Canton high school." 

I was devastated. Not only had I worked for this my whole life. Not only had I not gotten best actress. Not only did my cast not advance to Regionals giving me no opportunity to redeem myself. On top of all of these heartbreaking facts, I had not won ANY award, something that had NEVER happened in a lifetime of performing. Not even Honorable Mention. And this was my very last competition before graduating high school. It was over. And I...had lost. 


Come to find out, the amazing actress from
Canton also won Best Actress at state. That helped to heal my wounded pride. At least I was beaten by, literally, the best. The remainder of the school year hurried by. My heart mended some, but my ego had taken a much bigger hit. When it came time to choose a college, I chose Tyler Junior College. I had gotten a small theatre scholarship from there and would be going with one of my best friends Courtney Blount. Come August, I would be heading to the beauty of East Texas. Who would have thought, with one small choice, I would meet my clone? 

About a month before school started, I attended a freshman orientation to acquaint me with the campus and other students. During a tour of the campus, I had migrated to the back of the group. I was scared and nervous. The back was most comforting. At one point during the tour, we reached Wise Auditorium, a beautiful, brick building with large white columns - very collegiate looking. "Who in the group will be a theatre major?" asked the guide. Reluctantly, I looked around and, seeing two other hands go up, I raised mine. The guide continued, explaining that this would be the building where our annual musical would be held. As we moved on to our next destination, the other girl who had raised her hand began to walk closer towards me. She seemed nervous too, but she had an air of confidence about her. I can't remember who spoke first, but we introduced ourselves. Her name was Lauren. She was very tall and pretty. Again, I kept thinking about how confident she seemed. But it was a confidence that was delicately mixed with grace and kindness. Never did she give off the feeling of being cocky or stuck up. 

"You're a theatre major?" she asked. 
"Yeah. You too? I replied. 
"Yeah. Did you do theatre in high school?"
"I did. One Act Play and everything. You?"
With nonchalance, she let me know that she too had done some competing in high school. 

As the conversation continued, we talked about our experiences with high school theatre. Eventually the subject of "How well did your school do?" came up. 
"We advanced to state," she said. 
"Wow. Did you receive any individual awards."
She almost seemed embarrassed to answer. So modest. 
"I got best actress a few times."
At that moment, it hit me. She could be any girl from any school in the state. In fact, the chances that she would be a girl even from my area were slim. But somehow, I knew. 
"Did you get Best Actress at state?"
"Yes," she answered. 
"Are you from Canton?"
And in her deep East Texas accent, she answered, "Yeah. How'd you know?"

I had spent the last three months of my life hating this girl. This sweet girl who wanted nothing but to have a friend to talk to during the campus tour. In the months to follow,  Lauren and I became the closest of friends. In fact, I had not realized one could find a soul mate in a friend, but it was as though our paths were destined to cross, changing our lives forever. 

Before I met Lauren, I may have thought that the highlight of this story would undoubtably be my triumph at District. Sitting in my chair as the MC called out the awards one by one. Handing the things in my lap over to a good friend, Joe Hamm, as I readied myself to walk to the stage to receive my praise. Crying with delight as Trevor placed a proud arm around me, trophies gleaming in our hands. Hearing my mother shout with pure pride as I told her the happy news over the phone. I felt so strongly about my win and my loss during my senior year that I was sure nothing could trump it. How wrong I was. 

There are many lessons you could learn from this piece of my life, Poppyseed. Don't be blinded by pride. There will always be someone better than you at what you do. Be humble. Don't let others stroke your ego to the point of you losing sight of reality. Have confidence in yourself mixed with the right amount of humility. Know that what you may see as defeat, could be God's way of opening new doors for you. Sometimes, you will even be able to look back on times when you felt you were at your lowest with a smile, knowing how bright it was about to get. Most of all, I hope you take from this story the beauty of friendship. It comes in many shapes, sizes, and colors. It may even come masked as who you thought was your worst enemy. It may come unexpectedly. It may come at a time when you feel you don't need it or when you need it the most. But, come it will. Embrace it! You will know a genuine heart when you meet one. Befriend that heart. The reward may not be a nice shinny trophy to put on a shelf. You may end up with something even better.  You may end up with a friend. 

"Who would have thought? Who would have known? With one small choice, I met my clone. Maybe a foot shorter, but only in length. Ten feet taller in charisma and strength." Lauren Wycough

Wounds for Which No Cast Can Mend

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me. Whoever said that had never been hit with a rock and called a lesbo. Ok. The two things didn't occur simultaneously, but I've experienced both, and let me tell you, the rock broke no bones, but the hateful words left a bruise that couldn't be cured.

I didn't even know what a lesbo was! But I knew, by the way the girl giggled after she said it, that she didn't mean it to be nice. I had short hair and no boys liked me, so to other kids, I was a lesbo. Lesbo is a slang term for lesbian. You know plenty of them. Like Miss Kris! Although, she's not a very good one, but she does put up quite the effort. ;) 

My point. Words hurt.

When I was a little girl, around the age of 7, I had three best friends. We'll call them Julie, Nancy, and Crissy. We were all friends, and got along, to my knowledge at the time, quite nicely. There came a day when Crissy was moving to a different school. It was her last day at Ferris Elementary, and I was really sad about it. On that day in P.E., I walked in on a conversation between my other two friends, Julie and Nancy. One of them mentioned how happy she was that Crissy was moving. She couldn't wait for her to be gone. The other girl agreed, speaking of Crissy in an awful way. This blew me away. I had thought that we were all friends. I had no idea they would say these things. They looked to me, and Nancy asked, "What about you? What do you think?"

This was my chance to be the better person, to stand up for this friend of mine who I was honestly sad to see go. Both pairs of eyes were on me, waiting for my reply. This was my moment to be the girl my parents had taught me to be. 

"I can't wait for her to go," I answered. And my heart sunk. That, was the first time I remember doing something wrong when I KNEW what was right. Why had I said it? To fit in, I suppose. These were my only two friends I would have left at school after Crissy was gone, and I didn't want to lose them too. I lowered myself to lying and and gossip so that my OWN selfish needs would be met. 

Minutes later, our teacher came to pick us up from the gym. Not thinking a thing of it, I noticed Nancy, walking over to our teacher and whispering something in her ear. When all students were in line and all was quiet, my teacher asked, "Curri, did you say that you were glad Crissy was moving?"  I was stunned. My two friends looked at me with grins on their lips, but the face I can't ever erase from my memory was that of Crissy's. She stood right in front of me in the line, and she slowly turned around, her eyes brimming with tears. All I could manage, as my mouth stood agape at my feeling of betrayal (my own of Crissy and my friend's of me) was a single nod. The teacher reprimanded me in some way, and we went to class. Crissy left that day, and I never saw her again. 

There are some stories of my life that I look forward to telling you. Stories where I "save the day" and do the right thing. This is not one of those stories. Of this story, I am not the heroine. 

I cannot place blame on the other two girls, either. What they did was no worse than what I did. They betrayed a friend. Only, they at least had the courage to betray me to my face.

I am so sorry for what I said that day, for not having courage enough to do what was right. I have even since then messed up and allowed my quick and cruel tongue to get the best of me. 

Guess what. It never ends either. Becoming an adult doesn't rid one of hateful thoughts and fill one with courage to do what's right. Quite the contrary, in fact. I sometimes believe that when becoming an adult, not only do we lose hair and taste buds and our fast metabolism. We lose our tact and courtesy. We lose the knowledge of what it's like to have our feelings hurt.

I try every day to be better than the girl I was on that day outside the elementary gym. Most days, I succeed. Others, not so much. As an adult, I have been verbally attacked 100 times more than I was as a child. Being called a lesbo because of a chili bowl haircut is nothing in comparison to being verbally ripped apart for something you believe in, or for trying to help someone, or for being yourself.  

My lesson to you, my sweet Poppyseed.

Think before you speak.
Never give in to the pressure of your friends when you KNOW what's right.
Forgive people for when they may hurt your feelings. I know it's tough, but we are all only human.
Apologize when you know you've hurt someone else.
Remember, that for most, courage doesn't come naturally. That's why its such a great trait. One must willingly take on pain and hurt to have courage.
And last, no one puts it better than Thumper; if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all. 

Broken bones may take weeks to heal, but the broken bonds of friendship and family suffered from hateful words, for that, there is no cast to mend.