It seems like autumn has fallen upon us once again. And whether it's because I'm still on a traditional school schedule or just the sun setting a little earlier in the day, the start of fall has always represented a time of new beginnings for me.
This year was no exception. As my new teaching semester began, I once again discovered myself in that extremely stressful nightmare of trying to find a new apartment. I'll spare you the details of the painful open houses, hours on craigslist, and tears that lent themselves too willingly to my cheeks through the process, and skip to the part where we found our new place. Wahoo!
But in preparation for the moving costs after spending a summer on a limited income, I found myself trying to take jobs where ever I could during this last month. And one of the jobs landed me as a substitute drama teacher for SOTA, where my partner in crime, Liz, works. While planning what to do in class I couldn't help but think about my own high school experiences and things I wish I could say to my fifteen year old self now that I've survived the teenage years.
Fifteen year old Ashley seems almost like a stranger to me in some ways as I remember those early years in high school as a time of displacement and confusion. I hadn't yet signed up for the school's drama class (an event that didn't happen until my senior year of high school and ultimately proved to be one of the greatest influences on my life) and I spent a lot of time doing a lot of things I was only okay at, unable to truly become passionate in any
of them. Back then, I was a member of the field hockey, swim, and lacrosse team. I played flute in the school's marching band. I belonged to clubs ranging from helping drunk students find a safe way home to writing for the newspaper. But to be truthful, I spent more time than I'd really like to admit writing poetry in my room listening to the calming sounds of Simon and Garfunkel. I have the distinct memory of standing in my driveway at home dreaming of publishing my own book of poems by age 25. Well, here I am, weeks away from 26 and I seem to have strayed a little bit from that goal.Walking through the halls of SOTA with my backpack and binder, I like to think that for a moment I was still able to blend in with the high schoolers. I couldn't help but smile as I observed the timelessness of student after student. Each seemed to be drenched in their own insecurities, hunched in awkwardness, just trying to appear cooler than the person next to them. It was humbling and enchanting to see these young high schoolers in search of what life really means to them and how they fit into it all. They all seemed to have a different way of expressing these feelings; whether it was the words of an outspoken class clown, the shy gestures of the brainiac in the back, or the ideals of the gossipy kids dressed in black attempting to prove their edge.
Having the opportunity to try and teach these kids a little something about acting was a pretty cool experience. I felt like I had come a long way from my days of relating all too well with S&G's lyrics: "I have my books and my poetry to protect me; I am shielded in my armor hiding in my room, safe within my womb.
I touch no one and no one touches me. I am a rock. I am an island." Now granted, I still totally jam out to that song, but I can see now how desperately I tried to shield myself back then. Ultimately, I think I was just terrified of the future and full of hormones. And again, I still find myself dancing with fears for the future and unpredictable hormones, but I try to remember some advice my lovely friend, Kaitlin, told me once. She said, "when you're sad, think about how your fifteen year old self would think about the person you are right now. All the cool things you've done, places you've seen, people you've met. I bet that person would excited for the future and proud of the person they get to become." It's an idea that always brings me a little bit of peace when I'm feeling stressed and overwhelmed about what I'm doing with my life. And in any case, if that's not enough for you, let's listen to some additional wisdom from Paul Simon, shall we? "When I think back on all the crap I learned in high school it's a wonder I can think at all..."
