Not A Hero, A Heroine

T0 Whom It May Concern:

This is a letter to those who have been my hero at an impressionable point in my life, and to those who have forced me to become the hero that I needed to be for myself.

I can remember being four years of age, innately knowing that the visual and performing arts career path was my calling. For most families in the early 90's, soap operas were a guilty indulgence, an indulgence my mother took part in daily. I would often sit with her just to analyze the characters and gape at their interactions. Of course, she would make me cover my eyes when things got really wild (eye roll). Needless to say, I wasn't impressed by the theatrics, and I remember telling my mom I could do a particular scene better. I stood up, improvised my own lines, and imitated that particular character as best I could. This situation set me up to encounter my very first hero, Mrs. Dixon.

Mrs. Dixon, the first day I met you, I was a big ball of energy. I was so excited that my words wouldn't come out quickly enough, and one word ran into another. You told me I definitely had talent that could be trained and presented, and that you had the tools to get me there. I was so nervous and so shy, and it often hindered me from showing the capacity of my true potential. You saw beyond my nervous energy, and you pushed me constantly in class, to channel that energy into my creative outlet. You patiently allowed me the opportunity to train for many years with you, as well as other staff you felt could get me to the crux of my talent. You introduced me to my very first runway and showed me how to walk it like I owned it. I haven't stopped strutting down a stage since. Actually, I haven't stopped strutting in general, my everyday walking style is a product of your grooming. You taught me self-confidence, self-reliance, and self-love, all before I hit my pre-teen years. Your teachings allowed me to navigate around a lot of situations that could have potentially turned very badly and did for a lot of young women my age. It is because you believed in the gift that I had, that I was able to build such a strong base and foundation for my other creative endeavors.

To my second hero, my seventh grade ELA teacher. I was content to sit in your class all year and slide by with a perfect score on all of my assignments. The pizza parties my particular group would win, was definitely a bonus. I loved reading, and I would often finish my assignments hours before others had even barely started theirs. You told me to stay after class one day, and you informed me that you were recommending that I get transferred to an advanced course of language arts. I asked you why you couldn't just allow me to continue on with my regular coursework, and you informed me that I needed to be challenged. You told me that allowing me to do very well in a class where I couldn't grow, was pretty much equivalent to allowing me to work a dead-end job. You said my potential needed a healthy environment to grow in, and with my mother's approval, I was pushed into a more advanced class halfway through the year. In the new class setting, I was forced to actually put more effort into my assignment, and I was somewhat annoyed that you put me in that predicament.

By the end of that year, I was a more well-rounded writer, and I never got the opportunity to thank you for pushing me out of my comfort zone. Your decision opened the window of opportunity to yet another creative talent, writing. As a result, I started homing in on my ability to write poetry and monologues. It was at that point in my life, that I realized, that discomfort is often the breeding ground for greatness.

Over the years I encountered many other mentors, who played a vital role in feeding my creative hunger. As I got older, I realized that not many people were as fortunate to have encountered some of the positive influences I came across. The dreams of so many people go unfulfilled, because they don't have heroes, or people who even believe in them. My heroes taught me sacrifice, equal give and take, and that sometimes tough love really is the best love. Disney had it right! Sometimes we need to be saved from our own comfort zone, or awakened from sleeping on our dreams, or even that sometimes when given all the right tools, we have to go out there and ultimately be willing to fight for ourselves. To those who pushed me, when I was either too timid to do so, or too stuck in my own ways, thank you.

Sincerely,

A bird in flight