My “Cinderella story” isn’t exactly a stereotypical fairy tale. Sure, prom was fun. I enjoyed sitting in a salon chair while someone who actually knew what she was doing perfected my hair and makeup. All the cameras were exciting, until the extended smiles numbed my cheeks. And my shoes were fabulous, although I took them off as soon as I arrived at the venue. Everyone likes to be pampered sometimes, but my Cinderella story is far more low-key.
I felt my pumpkin-self transform into a horse-drawn carriage the first time I performed my poetry in front of a crowd. I discovered my love of poetry in third grade, and have been writing consistently since middle school. When I entered high school, my passion drove me to my school’s art and literary magazine, Jabberwocky, for which I became the poetry editor as a sophomore and the editor-in-chief as a junior.
Besides running club meetings and actually putting together a magazine, the editorial board was responsible for organizing Jabberfest, an annual all-day talent show the day before spring break. My sophomore year was the first time that I had the opportunity to stand up in front of a full auditorium with a microphone in my hand, although just as an MC, not yet ready to perform original work. Subsequently, sophomore year was also the first time I had a crowd of 800 people laugh at me for unintentionally embarrassing myself, but I didn’t let that deter me from getting back up on stage.
As junior year started to fly by, and Jabberfest sign up time came around, I was struggling with a very big decision. I had written a poem that I knew should be performed, rather than read, but was I ready to get up in front of my school? I had published my writing in the magazine, but there was a difference between allowing someone that I probably didn’t even know read my work from a distance, and having to face everyone that would be judging my poetry and me. I eventually decided that I shouldn’t let me fear of judgment hold me back. If I could handle a full auditorium laughing at my MC faux pas, I could handle anything.
If you had told me in my freshman year of high school that I would feel comfortable standing up on stage in front of many hundreds of people, I wouldn’t have believed you. If you had told me that I would share my writing in that setting, I would have laughed in your face. But with the lights on me on that auditorium stage, I could feel myself change. I was shaking, but at the same time I was sure of myself. I was confident in my ability and proud of my bravery. As I said the last line of my poem and heard the audience cheer, I knew I could do anything.
My transformation wasn’t from peasant to princess. It didn’t involve a flowing gown or true love’s kiss. I transformed from the girl hiding behind the spine of a book, to the girl that was center stage. Junior year Jabberfest was my first time performing, but certainly not my last. Standing in front of a crowd is always scary, and I often run back to the privacy of my notebook for comfort and moral support, but I know now that when it comes to something I love, I never needed to hide at all.