Roadmap to College (Eng.106 assignment on My trajectory)

I’ve always been inclined towards the arts. I’m creative, love art, music, everything to do with it. But I’m not good at all things involved with the arts. I may have wonderful ideas, but the execution isn’t great. I would sing in the bathroom in Elementary School with the rest of my friends. Dance on top of the large window sill and hide if it sounded like a teacher or another student was going into the bathroom. It was a game to us. Singing all the popular songs of the time –one was 3LW’s “No More”- and wanting to know the dance moves they did in the video. Until people started getting serious about their talents everything went well.

Once talents started to grow, and choices had to be made about your future, everyone started to judge each other more critically. Are we really that good, or are people just saying that we are? I had been dancing in a weekend program since I was six, so it was expected that I would be better with dance. I had also been writing since second grade; but back then my poetry didn’t have a lot of meaning. I loved dancing; Salsa, Merengue, Bachata, and Hip-hop were the first few styles I learned. I loved talking a lot. I loved writing. I loved singing. But while in kindergarten or first grade –can’t remember the exact year- my family and I realized I had stage fright as soon as I got sick the day I had to narrate a play on stage. And since everyone was becoming more judgmental, I was becoming more insecure about my talents.

I stopped writing as much. I was told I couldn’t sing, so I listened and stopped. Maybe my poems/songs didn’t make sense. But my dancing stayed strong. “There, I’m surrounded by the kind of dancing I would never have expected from these women…” (Rodriguez, 23) Deborah Rodriguez was surprised when she saw the Afghan women dance. While I was surprised to see the form of dance I found in public schools, and the wide range of students that applied to it. I was like every other kid, wanted to be famous, maybe a lawyer, or a doctor. Doctor Cohen would sound nice. I didn’t know what it would take. How much hard work goes into achieving all of these things. And I thought I would like them.

In middle school, I realized how strong my passion for dancing was. Even though I still couldn’t figure out how to get rid of my stage fright, I enjoyed performing. My future began to seem clearer. I put my all into dance yet unfortunately wasn’t accepted to any performing arts high school. Instead I went to an international business school in the Times Square area that offered a dance class instead of gym. “Before we climbed down the stairs from the plane, all the women quickly pulled the scarves we had been told to bring over our heads.” Deborah and all the other women had to assimilate to the situation in Afghanistan. I had to assimilate when I started High school. There weren’t a lot of dancers around, but at least I could continue dancing, and meet people and have new opportunities. I thought of the possibility of becoming a dance teacher, choreographer, or a performer. I could also go into the hotel and travel business after taking a class in hospitality and tourism. But I found the class boring. I already knew I had a short attention span. Business, maybe, as long as it was something I enjoyed.  All this time my mom always reminded me if I wanted to dance I should have something to “fall back” on. Just in case.  

I found business interesting during high school. I started writing again, even started two blogs for my writing recently; one for my personal writing (i.e. Poetry, letters, etc.) and the other for stories. I started singing lessons. I pursued as many things as I could. I thought of the possibility of offering a place where others could study dance. How can I manage this place effectively? Sometimes I think I enjoy doing too much at once. Then once again when I found myself pushed aside by peers I began to wonder. Just that this time instead of stopping things, I continued. I found a friend in my writing, the flow of the emotion filled poetry and journal entries to the imaginative events of a story.  I found comfort when I danced and when I sang. And I finally met the people that took me for me.

I wanted to go upstate to college. I planned and said I wanted a minimum of 3 hour distance. I wanted to experience a different atmosphere. I laugh now at how much I wanted to move from the city. Even if it was just for four years. But the only school that accepted me was Berkeley. So be it. I’ll stay in NYC and continue my education. I’ll get my business management degree, and then go for a degree in dance. I can travel the world –later on- for these new experiences. Maybe I’ll try to write a book. Fiction, so I can let my imagination run wild. Maybe I could write a song and hear it on the radio someday. At 18, my possibilities list can be pretty long. I’ve realized that as long as I am happy and enjoying what I’m doing, I can try anything in my reach.

Someday, I could even help people like Deborah did.

Works Cited

Rodriguez, Deborah. Kabul Beauty School