21st Century Girl

I thought maybe I could have been a child prodigy, or at least a talent, if only I had stuck with any one thing. I was a great speller; I won the second grade spelling bee, and would have won it in fourth grade if the crazy lady reading the words hadn't insisted on pronouncing it "conFene," thereby throwing me off the correct spelling. I believe there was a conspiracy afoot. I was pretty good at soccer. I was a good reader (is that a talent?). I was also a really good swimmer in high school. And I was a good debater. One time my partner Nicole and I made two girls cry in a debate round. It was our crowning achievement.

So what the hell happened? I went off to film school instead of journalism school, for reasons that I don't really remember. I have no doubt I would have succeeded in USC's journalism program, instead of just skating by at NYU. Sure, I had a high GPA, but that didn't make me a talented filmmaker. I just knew what I needed to do to get the grades. I didn't even particularly like making films. In fact, I would do whatever I could to get out of going on shoots, including faking illness. My apologies to my crew. Heather, Stacey and Nancy: ten years post-graduation, I think it's okay for me to admit that I was a slacker who was uninterested in early wake-ups and frigid temperatures. I didn't want to sacrifice for my art. I still don't understand my film school friends who spend their time writing and trying to produce scripts. I don't want to try to raise money to make a low budget short. The idea of slaving away like that is not in any way a part of my bucket list. So I don't think I'll ever understand why I chose to spend three years of my life (I graduated a year early) and more than $100,000 to obtain a useless degree that has literally done nothing other than look pretty in a nice frame on my wall.

The crew. On a rollercoaster.

I guess the only thing I've ever really loved, and wanted to do as often as possible, is write. I know that might be surprising to those of you who wait days for me to post something new here, but it's true. The delays in posting are almost always due to a lack of time, not a lack of desire. I feel like I've loved writing my entire life. I started writing stories as soon as I knew how to write. In fifth grade, I wrote an essay that won me a free trip to Space Camp. In high school, writing reports and essays was never something I needed to learn; I just knew how to do it, and I did it well. I joined the high school newspaper staff my sophomore year, and was supposed to be the editor-in-chief my junior year, but I moved to California. There I was chosen to be the front page editor (after I was cheated out of the editor-in-chief position, but that's another story) for my senior year, but then I moved back to Florida. This is all to say that I wasn't just a student who sat in the back of the class to claim the journalism credit.

Oprah spent last Tuesday's show making me feel even worse about my choices in life. Every child featured on the program had a superb skill, and they were all under the age of sixteen. There were clips of kids from previous years who have gone on to do amazing things, and there were new kids who could play the violin or dance really well. There was a teenage guitarist who was really amazing. Oprah brought out his hero, Lenny Kravitz, to "jam" with him, and though I hate jamming, the kid was really great.

But Oprah's co-host for the hour was Willow Smith, who performed her songs "Whip My Hair" and "21st Century Girl." And...I don't get it. This was my first time hearing either song, and they were both terrible. Beyond that, they were ridiculous songs for a ten-year old girl to be singing. Call me an old fogey, but I think it's weird for a preteen to be singing about what kind of "chick" she is, and how she likes to "party." And the dancing was a little older than it needed to be, too. There's no doubt that Willow Smith has charisma, but it's not like she's particularly talented. I guess she can dance, but there is no singing ability in that little body. It's amazing what a backbeat and an auto tuner can do, huh?

Her brother is apparently a singer, too. They showed a picture of him performing at some awards show, and I was completely grossed out. The kid is twelve years old. Can we hold off on his transformation into Lil Wayne or T.I. for just a couple of years? I love those two, but they're adults. Now I'm going to sound even more like an old fogey when I say that I don't understand what's wrong with letting your kids act like kids. Even if you're a super famous Hollywood type, I think it's okay if your ten-year old daughter doesn't know what it's like to co-host a show with Oprah, or if your twelve-year old son is unaware of the joy of having young girls throw their panties at him. They're kids. Give it a rest already. Is Miley Cyrus not enough of a cautionary tale here?

(Katie chimes in: "Or Britney Spears?" Exactly.)

There should probably be some life lesson I've learned, like that maybe it's okay that I wasn't a child prodigy, or that I haven't done anything with my life, because I could have grown up too fast and ended up a burned out 21-year old. But the moral of this story is not obvious. I haven't had my "a-ha moment." I guess I'll just keep writing, and keep living, and see what happens.


Next: Meredith Baxter