Title Change: Managing Mankind No More
I changed the title of my blog. Managing Mankind is no longer. To find out why, read this story that I wrote for a creative writing course a few months ago (which is completely true).
MMXV: the Year of She.
November 24th, 2017
“Uh….yeah….hi…..” She says, approaching the desk. A neon sign spins around overhead, flashing “TATTOO” in large black letters every three seconds.
“What can I do for ya, little lady?” rumbles a big bearded man as he comes out from behind a curtain, black latex gloves enclosing his massive hands as he yanks them off while walking towards the desk.
“Hi, uh, I want a tattoo,” the innocent, preppy girl with the sweaty palms blurts out.
“Well, I think you came to the right place. Have you had a consultation before?”
“A consultation? I didn’t know I needed….oh crap, I’m sorry…I can come back…” she nervously laughs and starts anxiously shifting around black skirt while staring down at her brown high-heeled booties.
She knows she shouldn’t be here.
“No hun, you’re fine,” the bearded guy says, “what are you looking for? Do you have one of those pictures from…what’s that site you girls use? Pin box?”
“Oh, haha, Pinterest,” she whispers, fumbling for her phone to show the man a picture. He judged her too quickly. How dare he automatically think she wants some basic tattoo that every other person has.
MMXV. 2015 in Roman numerals in messy handwriting.
“MMXV? Alright, well, it’s small, so you didn’t need to come in before. What does this mean?” the man mumbles while examining the picture on the girl’s glittery-gold encrusted iPhone 7.
“It’s um…it’s 2015, in Roman numerals…it’s kind of a long story…” she blurbs as if she’s embarrassed.
“Good thing you have time to tell me then. Take a seat over here.”
The she is me just a few months ago. Terrified of getting a tattoo, it was something that I had wanted for years, and it was time that I had gone through with something for myself without others’ opinions getting in my way. Especially the opinion of my beloved parents…
December 25, 2011
Tiny feet pitter-patter down the stairs, rushing to the dinner table as the sweet smell of a freshly made apple pie fills the house. The oldest of them all trumps down the stairs, making a point to stomp and drag every single foot behind her. She slides into her chair and immediately slumps over next to her youngest sister.
She knows what is coming.
“I have some big news to tell you, children. Before I hear any whines or complaints, I want you to listen to what I have to say. Lyndsey, that includes you – set an example, please, darling,” her father warns.
The 15-year-old usually loves the annual Christmas feast, but this time, she’s dreading it. Her parents know that she overheard them arguing for the last several months, and she already knows what her father is about to lay on the table.
“I know that you all love it here, and I know that you all cherish your friends and your memories you’ve made, but I’m sorry to say we will have to move again. I cannot afford to keep driving back and forth to Cincinnati every day, and it’s exhausting our time as a family. I’ve decided to accept a position in Vermont with a new company,” the father says in a low, unusually quiet tone.
Moving. Again. For the 5th time in her life. She’s only 15. Why does she deserve this? She’s in the middle of her freshman year at Eaton High School, and she loves her teachers, her friends, and her Friday night football games.
But that will all be gone in six short months. Her family will pick up and trek to Vermont, leaving behind the house that took them months to renovate and years to make good memories in.
Where even is Vermont? Canada?
Well, that’s what all her classmates thought the next week at school.
“You’re moving? To Vermont? Is that in Canada?” they would ask.
“It basically is…I am going to hate my life,” she’d reply.
She only had six months to make the best of her time in the OH – IO land that she adored.
August 21, 2012
Two months in this new home, and Lyndsey still despises her parents for making her move…especially since today is the first day of her sophomore year at her new school. It’s triple the size of her old school, which was only 400 people – that’s the size of her new class.
8:30 AM: the bell rings. She’s already lost in what the students call “four corners.” Like a wide-eyed dear, she wanders upstairs and eventually comes upon room 247, her advisory. She slowly creaks open the old door, and a small, Columbian woman rushes towards her.
“WEEEEELLLLCOMMMEEEE!!!!!!” she shreeks in Lyndsey’s face, grabbing her hand and pulling her inside the door.
“Students, this is our new advisee, Lyndsey! Please go around the room and tell her who you are so that she can get to know you. Lyndsey joins us from Ohio!”
The students look very unamused compared to her.
12:25 PM: Lunch time – the most dreaded time of day for Lyndsey as a new student. She walks into the cafeteria sprawling as long as what seems like a football field and swarming with at least 300 students scouring for food. She goes through the line looking for the square-shaped pizza and tater tots, but they’re no where to be found. Instead, all she sees is a salad bar, a sign labeled “hummus, chicken breast and kale sandwiches,” and a refrigerator full of Greek yogurt and Steaz iced teas.
Where the hell did her parents make her move to?
She grabs a salad bowl, throws some lettuce in, pours some ranch on it, and scurries out of the cafeteria, once again aimlessly wandering around the hallways until coming upon the girl’s bathroom, slithering in, and locking herself in a stall to call her mom as the tears begin to pour down her face.
This is her life now. This is where she will suffer for the next three years of her existence.
June 10, 2015
She never could have imagined that she would be standing here on this stage in front of 3,000 faces staring up at her as she taps the microphone with her trembling pointer finger. “Breathe, Lyndsey, they chose you for a reason” she reminds herself.
“Three years ago, my parents dragged me away from everything I loved in my tiny town of Eaton, Ohio. Kicking and screaming, I spent my summer of 2012 friendless, as I wondered what this whole ‘creemee’ thing was when I went to Al’s or Rocky’s. Shortly after, I was thrown into this giant school, where I spent the first few months of my journey eating lunch in the bathroom alone, sobbing on the phone to my mom. Let me just tell you guys that these struggles are not just in movies, they are a reality,” she shakily says, nervously laughing.
“I’m sure that many of you who know me now would not have guessed that I was this girl just a few years ago, and I never would have imagined standing here talking to my entire class. As I started building my foundation here, I quickly realized that I couldn’t just sit back and wait for things, or friends, for that matter, to come to me – I had to take charge and utilize the opportunities I had in front of me. Perhaps being torn away from the boring lands of Ohio wasn’t such a bad thing after all, as I am grateful I was able to be a part of this school for my high school career, and moving to Vermont to participate in the annual Ben & Jerry’s ‘free cone day’. I’d like to thank my parents, my teachers, and CVU for being awesome, and best of luck to all of my classmates as we begin a new chapter of our lives where we all become the new kids,” she closes her speech, stepping down from the podium and nearly collapsing.
The crowd roars and she hops off the stage, running towards her family and her 22-year-old boyfriend that her parents had just met that morning.
What a wild ride for this young girl.
November 14, 2017
The bearded guy starts prepping and cleaning Lyndsey’s wrist as she leans back, breathing heavily.
“To give you a basic summary, 2015 was the best year of my life – it was the first year I actually enjoyed living my life. My dad could never settle in one place, he’s too indecisive. When we moved to Ohio when I was in 4th grade, I absolutely loved it. I was devastated when they wanted me to go to Vermont, which seemed like a foreign land to everyone. But then, as I started opening up my mind and exploring my options at my new school, I discovered that moving to Vermont was one of the best decisions my parents ever made for me. I created an internship program for high school students…” she trails off as the annoying buzzing of the needle begins.
“Oh, that’s not as bad as I thought…alright, uh, it’s a little uncomfortable,” she stutters.
“Keep telling me about this tattoo,” he says while focusing in on her wrist.
“Okay, well, anyways, I created an internship program, got my personal training certification, started dating this really awesome guy that my parents didn’t know about for two years, went to my first music festival which truly changed my life, started my first year of college, and spoke at my high school graduation as the senior speaker. I would have never had these opportunities if I stayed in Ohio. 2015 was just a very formative year for me…” she says, still struggling through the pain injecting her body.
“Oh, and this is my best friend’s handwriting. She had a huge impact on that year. I was going to get it in just numbers like ‘two zero one five’ but I decided on MMXV.”
It was so worth it. This is where she was meant to be.
To quote one of my best friends, Mitch Rissmiller, “don’t peak, and NEVER settle.”
I could not possibly fathom the idea of having a blog titled “Managing Mankind” when the posts I anticipate for the future will be dealing with WOMEN in writing and the professional world per one of my courses this semester at HPU and my rapidly involving interests in big movements, such as the #MeToo movement. If you would have asked me when I was 13 years old if I had thought that I would be considered a “leader” amongst my peers, I would have nervously laughed and shied away. Why was I so afraid? 2015 opened my eyes to the realm of possibilities and opportunities that I had in my life. I wouldn’t say that this year was my peak, because I don’t believe in those. I don’t want to have one year that I look back on and say “yep, that was it, but now it’s done and over.” There is constantly a reason to keep moving, and to keep pushing forward, and that idea directly relates to why it is so important to continue to evolve the movements of women in today’s society. We shouldn’t peak. We should shine and continue to #PressforProgress (click that link to find out more!).
To wrap it all up, MMXV is a symbol of the year that defined me. It was the year that I finally pushed myself outside of my comfort zone and built walls of confidence and strength. This was the year of me, she. And, although it is over, I will continue to use my opportunities for the benefit of others, including my fellow ladies.
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