So You Think You Can Be A Badger?

As I opened up the Student Center once again, I wiggled in my seat. I felt both giddy and anxious. Before anything happened, I needed to make sure everything was perfect. I opened up my “Life Undecided” playlist on Spotify, found a good tune*, and knew it was time. It wasn’t what I imagined but, at this point, I really don’t know what I expected. There’s never going to be a perfect time for anything. You just have to go for it, take the leap, and hope that everything turns out the way you wanted it to. In the end, that’s what’s important isn’t it? If the risk came with a reward, then you made the right decision. And that’s all that matters.

So, yeah folks, I know I can be a badger. In fact, I’m going to be a great one. As of last night, I am officially enrolled in college, and I’ve never felt better.

 

(Photo cred: Google)

*During my enrollment I started out with “San Francisco” by the Mowgli’s. I then switched to my new favorite “Red Hands” by Walk Off the Earth, when the guitar in “San Francisco” started to make me nervous. Finally, I confirmed with “Restless Heart” by Matt Hires. I have to say, it was a pretty good confirmation playlist. :)

Senior Commencement Speech!

Hey guys,
So I submitted a senior commencement speech! I figured for someone who loves writing so much, I might as well go for it. Carefully choosing words, and composing draft after draft was tough, but it was a great experience. If you're a senior, we're voting next week in advisory. I'd love your vote! :)

Here it is:

Thirteen. We’ve spent thirteen years in school. Five days a week, nine months a year, we have had a place to go, a place to learn, a place to grow. For thirteen years we have been dreaming of what this day would be like. We imagined how we would feel when we heard our names called. We wondered who would be the kid to trip in front of thousands. We dreaded the waiting as we listened to every last name in our class to be read. But what we might not have realized is that it would give us time reminisce over the time we spent at Wayzata.

Four. Four years we spent at the high school. We attended dances, we cheered on the sports teams, and some of us even tried out a club or two. High school is a confusing time for everyone. You’re figuring out who you are and where you belong and what you’re supposed to be doing. But I’ll let you in on a little secret: you never actually figure it out. And maybe you’re not supposed to. In high school, few will figure out who they are, some will think they figure out who they are, but most will have no idea the entire time.

As exciting as this day is, we could probably all agree that the real topic on everyone’s mind is where we’re going to be after this day. In a few months we will all be in different places. Some of us are staying close to home; some of us are stretching our wings just far enough and wandering over to Wisconsin or one of our other neighboring states. Others of us are running as far as we can with our freedom, and venturing out of frosty weather and unpredictable seasons. Some of the bravest among of us are enlisting in the armed forces. It’s a crazy time for everyone. One way or another we will be leaving our mark on the world.

 One. If you could only be one thing, what would it be? Now is the time to start deciding what we want to do with our lives and what kind of adults we are going to be. We will delve into college textbooks, hoping to find the answers of what paths we should follow. It’s possible some of us already know. Maybe a military career has always been your dream. Maybe you waddled around with a stethoscope and a prescription pad in your diaper days. Or maybe a passion for prose has recently ignited in you and you are already rampantly composing the next great American novel. Whatever excites you is what you should be doing. In this moment, while we imagine our dreams coming true, we should feel infinite, because our lives are filled with new opportunities.

Infinite. They told us our possibilities are endless. Since kindergarten, our teachers and parents have assured us that “The sky’s the limit” and that we can be whatever we set our minds to. Now is the time to find out if they are right. Can we really make our dreams come true? Will we be a class of future Nobel Prize winners and have shining stars on Broadway? Does the class of 2013 hold the future creator of technology that rivals with Apple?  Maybe one of the members on our Improv Troupe will bring us entertainment every Saturday from the show commonly recognized by three letters: SNL. Live from Minneapolis, it’s your future calling.

And then there were three. Many of us have three months until we enter what most adults refer to as “the real world.” That doesn’t mean in three months we will know exactly what we want to do. It doesn’t even mean we will have an idea. But in three months we will be starting a new chapter of our lives. It’s our time to show what we got out of Wayzata and what we’re going to do to change the world.

Thirteen. Congratulations Class of 2013.We made it.  

Writing on Writing

Open with a line they’ll never forget. You want something that the reader can recall days later, as they’re scrambling to finish their project for work—bam, your first line pops in their head. It’s the line that changed their lives. For in that moment, they could forget about all that is the reality that makes up their lives and disappear into a sea of thoughtfully composed prose. They appreciate every carefully chosen word, every action verb, and every detail that makes your story come to life. To the readers, the book is more than a series of letters in random order. It’s more than pages bound together. Your story is the meaning of life, and it gives them something to believe in. This creates hope. Your words could change the world, and you don’t even know it yet.

That line is the string of your kite, and your next few paragraphs turn into the base of the kite. You need to decide what your kite is going to look like, and then run with it. I compare your writing to a kite, because the feeling that you get when you run with the kite, is similar to the feeling of writing to some of us. It’s a rush. It’s the wind blowing through your hair. It’s feeling one with something else and knowing that however this turns out, you enjoyed it along the way. After all, isn’t that why we do the things that make us happy? We want some kind of instant gratification. If writing is really what excites you, then it doesn’t matter if anyone else sticks around to appreciate it. 

In my eighteen years on this planet, I couldn’t tell you how many hours I’ve spent writing. My finger tips have glided across the keyboard for hours at a time, only to leave behind unread words and forgotten stories. Many of my stories have been lost to crashed computers, technological mishaps, and my own volition. That doesn’t mean that they are worthless. Those stories helped me grow. They gave the opportunity to practice writing and the chance to figure out what worked for me and what didn’t. 

Sometimes I would sit at the computer for hours, writing until I didn’t have any more words in me. Moments later, I would delete it all. A few writers around the world just cringed from the cosmic energy I just released into the universe from simply writing about erasing my words. But so many other writers sympathized with me, because they have been there. Sometimes you just need to dump and start fresh. You will feel so much better, I promise. Deleting something doesn’t mean it didn’t exist. For a brief period of time, you were affected by those words. They did something for you, and no one can take that away from you. But there’s a time when you need to get over it and move on. It’s the only way you will grow as a writer. 

You may not agree with me right now, and you may not even like me. Who am I, a self-proclaimed amateur without any kind of degree or proven authority, to tell you how to write? If you’re still hung up on that, then you’re missing the point. I’m not telling you how to write. I’m sharing how I feel about writing as a writer, as a reader, and as someone who will always cherish the written word. It would be blissfully ignorant of me to think that I have mastered the art of writing by occasionally posting on a blog with a total of maybe 5 readers and taking a few writing classes in high school. I have a long way to go, and I’m not there yet. But when I run out of words to say about everything else, I write about what makes me passionate. I write about the kite that I’ve crafted. I write about writing.