Taken

This is out of the blue, I know. There's nothing in the news or in my personal life about it, but I'm feeling some real concern about the exploitation of women and children right now.
Sweatshops, human trafficking (aka slavery), forced prostitution and sex trafficking - these are serious problems that exist more widely than you might think in the world today - even in the United States.
There's nothing big I can do about it right now. I don't have money, or power, or influence, or even a wide reach of people who know me. I don't have Liam Neeson's "particular set of skills."  But I have a voice, and a little blog that a few people read.
If you are one of the people who do read this, know that there are a few small things you and I can do to help. If you are interested in learning more, click here for Information on Human Trafficking or here Learn What You Can Do to Help . It's not a lot, nor is it likely that you or I will change a life. But then again, what if you are the person a victim tries to reach out to?

The Ratio

 In an atom, the number of electrons (negatively charged sub-atomic particles) is always exactly equal to the number of protons (positively charged sub-atomic particles) in order to cancel them out and create balanced polarity. In other words, on the smallest level in the universe, matter is balanced and equal. A 1:1 ratio. It's different, though, for those immaterial things. Emotions, thoughts - those have a different ratio.

5 : 1

That's what it takes. Five positive influences to cancel out one negative influence. That means every time one jealous or angry person says something, it will take five kindly people to erase the emotional damage that has been done to that person. This is, of course, assuming they say something in time, that the damage has not sunk in yet. This is also assuming that they actually GET those five positive influences. That there aren't more negative comments being made about them. Because with negativity, it's one step forward, five steps back.

Are we being the kind of people that help offset the damage? I would encourage you all (and most especially myself!) to be the influence for good in the lives of everybody we see. We may only make 20% of the difference to help somebody have a good day, but it's better by far than making 100% certain that they don't.

Prima Donna

In The Phantom of the Opera, Carlotta is the Prima Donna. After she is told by the Phantom that she is no longer necessary, and as she sees a younger, lovelier, more talented woman try to step up to fill her place, she comforts herself with the song "Prima Donna," in which she reminds herself that any part is better than leaving the theatre. She pretends it's a sense of obligation, that it's all for her fans, but I always had a sneaking suspicion that she, like most thespians, is inexplicably drawn to the planks.

"Prima Donna, your song shall never die. You took a snub, but there's a public who needs you."

They say there are no small parts. I cordially disagree, but I'm grateful for mine anyway. I wasn't at first, of course. With no lines and no character details, I thought of quitting instead of "wasting" my time at rehearsals where I wouldn't do anything. Then I got some sleep and gained some perspective: if giving me a part that I didn't read for (and that is technically for males) isn't a gift, and probably more than I deserve too, then I don't know what is. If I can't find a purpose in my small role then I'm not the actress I think I am. 

I'm forever grateful that I discovered the theatre. This play will be one excellent step on a journey that I hope never ends for me. I'm glad I auditioned, and I'm glad it turned out the way it did. Congratulations to the cast  of the Man Who Came to Dinner! This promises to be an amazing show!

All the Single Ladies

You have all heard of the friend-zone, the bro-zone, and my personal favorite, the pet-zone. But not everybody understands the different levels of horror these zones occupy, and what they each represent. As the numbers descend, so do your chances to ever find happiness with this man. Scrolling down the page is scrolling into Hell. So today, for your pleasure and enlightenment, I bring you:

The Zones - Fully Explained

1. No Zone: You have a range of opportunity to ingratiate yourself into his heart. He looks at you to admire, and there's nothing from him to hold you back. Congratulations, you're in a mythical land of bliss and newly-formed, un-shattered dreams.
2. The Friend-Zone: He does not regard your romantically at this point, but he does care for you in a platonic way, and he feels that there is room for you in his future. As a friend. But at least you might have a chance to change that later.
3. The Sister-Zone: He regards you tenderly, but in a younger sister, protective kind of way. And, like a real brother might, he finds the idea of a relationship with you, his mind-sister, slightly repugnant. Arguably better than friend-zone due to his tender feelings for you.
4. The Pet-Zone: I once heard a conversation that summed it up, "No, ____, I can't make out with you because it would be like making out with my dog." If you are in the pet-zone, you are regarded as a nice distracting thing. The person who pet-zones you realizes that, like a dog, you are enthusiastically in love with them and will always be there the moment they call. But they only want you when you can be useful to them. Be the dog who runs away to a better home.
5. The Bro-Zone: It's also known as the pit of Hell, ninth circle. In the bro-zone, your gender is literally irrelevant. You entertain him. You're good for a laugh or a conversation, but he ACTUALLY DOESN'T NOTICE/CARE that you're a woman. How do you claw your way out of the bro-zone? You don't. You languish in miserable agony forever as the man you love constantly treats you like "one of the guys" or even as just an androgynous semi-human gender-less THING. Bless you. I am sorry you find yourself here, because nobody deserves this. If it's any comfort, eventually you'll die and you won't have feelings for him and you won't be in the bro-zone. Presumably, anyway.

I hope I've adequately explained the zones to you. Please feel free to comment with any questions/thoughts/corrections.

It's not just about Dickens

"What's to become of me?"

Y'all remember Eliza Doolittle, when she comes home after a fabulous ball where a freaking PRINCE danced with her...and she couldn't do anything but sob and throw things?
Well, you see her dream had been fulfilled, her goal reached - and the void of her future loomed before her, empty and confusing.

Switching gears:

When I was 9, I saw my first concert at Fremont High School. From that moment to this, the choir department is the only thing I've ever really wanted. I hungered and ached for Legacy with all of my soul. I came to Dickens every year - Christmas wouldn't be Christmas without it. When I made Legacy in my Junior year, it was bliss. I never expected I could be as close to anybody as I was to that group. They woke my heart up. The dream of Legacy was real, but it was even better than I expected, because it wasn't just music... it was love, too. Then at Legacy retreat this year, fears started to creep in, despite the fact that this new choir promised to mean just as much to me as the last one.

The thing is, choir is my life. I know that sounds dumb, but all my dreams as far back as I can remember have been about what I could one day do with my voice. All of my favorite memories are from choirs. My social life, my free time, my heart - they're all in the Fremont choir department. And what's left for somebody whose only source of confidence is in something that's going to end in six months? What's left for me when my lifelong dream is over. What's left for me? I'm sorry I scared you. I'm sorry I cried like I did. I'm sorry I couldn't control my emotions. But the thing is, I'm as scared for myself as you are for me. I have so much fear and pain inside of me.

Why do I love these people so much if I know I'm going to lose them in just a few months? Why let myself be happy if it can't last?

Well, of course, the answer is because these people are those with whom I have shared the best moments of my life. It can't last. But it's here now. Thank you for now. Thank you for yesterday. Thank you for tomorrow. I hope things between us last beyond graduation. If they don't, know that a part of me stays with each of you. I mean that.

No Fault, Just Experience

Today at school, a boy made a joke. This is, apparently, normal behavior for the species. What made this joke different, you might ask? Nothing. My reaction was different, for a number of reasons (the exploration of which is the point of this post,) but the joke was harmless and probably a lot less offensive than I took it to be. Nor, I'm sure, was it aimed with the specific purpose of hurting me. So why was I hurt?

Turns out it was my own insecurities.

Honestly, if I had not already been too hard on myself, and if I had not already had a poor self-image, would I have been offended by what this boy said?

If I did not feel so badly about myself that I thought I deserved to have these unkind things said, would I have believed them to be serious and aimed at me? 

I know I'm not the first girl to be insecure about the way she looks. And oddly enough, I don't even necessarily hate the way I look all the time. Earlier today, in fact, I was photographed for an article involving a scholarship program I entered. I dressed up, spent some extra time on my makeup and hair, and I felt beautiful. But just one poorly timed word, and it all came crashing down.

You must think he said something absolutely horrible. But he didn't. He made some joke about ugly people. A joke so general and inconsequential that I don't even remember it. But I DO remember what happened inside of me. I felt ugly, unloved, and unwanted. 

As I'm sure you inferred from the vastly subtle title, I don't blame him for what he said. This was an interesting opportunity for introspection: I learned from this that people are generally harmless. I learned that I am my own worst critic. And I learned that being offended isn't going to make me happy, and it's not going to make other people be more sensitive. 

Pat-Downs are a Plus

Today somebody brought a gun to my school with the intent to shoot one person in particular and then open fire on the school population.

The amazing thing is, nobody died.
The more amazing thing is, nobody was even hurt.
In fact, there were never any shots fired at all.
The worst thing that happened was the "lock-down," which is a safety precaution in which the school is closed off and students are forced to stay in their classroom until they are evacuated by the administration/law enforcement. On top of this, in order to check for guns/drugs/bombs in the school, the student body was not allowed to go to their lockers or take their backpacks home -  just their keys, phones, and wallets. We also had to submit to a "pat-down" search. This was hard, I understand. TRUST ME, I understand. 

I'm a diabetic, and I didn't eat for 12 hours because we spent lunch on lockdown.
I was texting a cute boy, and my phone is still in my backpack in my locker.
I had to pee when I was stuck in that room for 4 hours. 
I felt a little uncomfortable with an officers hands on my body.
BUT AGAIN, WE ARE ALL ALIVE AND WE ARE ALL SAFE. 

My point is, we were lucky. Not everybody is. The small inconveniences are worth the fact that we remain alive and safe and can still go to school without facing the after-effects of tragedy.

Thanks to our amazing faculty, staff, and sheriff's department who guided us through this crisis, and
thanks to Heavenly Father for watching out for us.