Season 2, Episode 6: Where You Lead, I Will Follow

In Omnia Paratus.

Ready for Anything.

I like to tell myself that that’s me, but it’s not. I spent a fair amount of high school feeling like I wanted to be more. More musically inclined, more historically inclined, more adventurous, more social, more anything. It was a big part of high school for me- trying to find myself and to become the best version of myself possible- and I guess I succeeded, in most ways. I spent a lot of my senior year making memories that I never would’ve expected myself to make. But I’m going to tell you a secret, are you ready?

I’m not actually that daring of a person. (I’m sure this comes as a shock to some of you lol) 

Part One: Books That Shaped Me

I’ve always had an active imagination and have loved reading, and so when I was younger, I used to love visualizing myself as the heroine (and sometimes the hero, if there wasn’t a good enough female character for me to embody) of the story. I distinctly remember reading Harry Potter for the first time and finding Hermione Granger, a bushy-haired, buck-toothed girl who thirsted for literature and knowledge and feeling like someone finally understood me. I wasn’t the world’s most awkward child, but I definitely had my tendencies, and to be entirely honest, a lot of them lent themselves to reading until 3am because I couldn’t put a book down, or writing stories, or closing my eyes and just imagining the plot lines of books that I had read. 

Hermione and I seemed to have a lot in common. My hair was thick and seemingly untamable (to me), I had two teeth that were just slightly larger than the rest that irritated me to no avail, I went to a private school where I jumped at the chance to read more and learn more about the English language, which ended up with me reading every book I could get my hands on, and doing supplementary linguistics work to expand my vocabulary- not that you’d know it if you were to converse with me, I’m still a college student, things are “lit” and “solid”, and the type of dabbing that occurs on a daily basis has nothing to do with pressing against something lightly in order to clean/dry it. 

But I remember that feeling, finding a literary character that made me feel like I belonged. 

I remember loving riddles and logic puzzles and codes and ciphers. I remember reading detective mysteries at a young age (starting with the incomparable Nate the Great, then to Sherlock Holmes, then Nancy Drew, then back to Sherlock Holmes, with a few “one-hit-wonders” thrown in between the fray) and creating my own travel Private Investigator kit, complete with fingerprint cards of everyone in my family, the worst possible magnifying glass you can imagine, a nonfunctional compass, and Blistex, in case my lips got chapped while investigating the high crimes occurring within the vicinity of my bedroom. 

The best photo I've got of my "head in a book"

I remember living through the early 2000s with my head in a book, searching for adventure, because at the time, the phrase “adventure is out there!” wasn't just the cutest line from an animated movie, it was also a life belief of mine. Reading about this incredibly bright woman, who, for all intents and purposes, was the minority in the “Wizarding World of Harry Potter” was amazing, even more so was seeing how successful she was, and the realization dawning on me that if I worked hard, maybe I could be like her. 

Hermione Granger was my role model for a long time. She had it all: wit, intelligence, bravery, integrity, loyalty- pretty much any quality that I perceived as moderately redeeming at the time, she had. It was an incredible experience to be a young girl growing up in a world where people celebrated the Harry Potter series, and by extension, Hermione Granger- a seemingly mild-mannered librarian type girl who teamed up with the projected savior of the world and his best friend to, well, save the world. 

Earlier on, it had been Lucy Pevensie, the youngest of the siblings in The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. Like me, Lucy had a penchant for creativity, and I remember feeling betrayed alongside her when first, her eldest siblings refused to believe her and then second, her brother Edmund pretended he had never seen Narnia at all. As I grew up a bit, I was able to find myself identifying with all of the Pevensies in one way or another (downsides of incredibly written books- you find a piece of yourself in every character), but Lucy was always the first. She was the youngest, the most light-hearted of them all, and I remember wanting to see her soar- so that I could too. I was young when I read LWW, younger than when I started reading Harry Potter at least (which is saying something in itself, I started reading Harry Potter halfway through first grade), and I remember feeling so intimately connected to this character who could've been me. I loved Narnia, I loved Aslan and Mr. Tumnus, and even the White Witch for the depth and complexity she brought to the children’s journey. It wasn’t until much later on that I was able to recognize the symbolism of certain character portrayals, or the details that contributed to the legacy of the plot- at the time, I was just a wonderstruck six-year-old, looking for something engaging to read, with cool characters and a plot that wasn’t a love story because people kissing was gross (I was only six, after all.)

Later on, after Hermione had come into (and not really left) my life, I discovered Katniss Everdeen. Another fiercely independent woman, who made sacrifices every day for her family, and who chose to create adventures and to never stop fighting (even with her boy troubles). Somewhere in the span of the three Hunger Games books, Katniss became tired of the injustice that she was being forced to observe and conform to and decided to give the Capitol the proverbial middle finger, and fight back. I loved it. At the time, I remember archery becoming more popular at my summer camp, with every girl wanting to channel her inner Katniss, and I remember braids becoming a bigger fashion trend than they already were. Her clothing choices of army-esque hunting jackets, black pants, and boots transformed into the current trending outfits of today- leggings, a t-shirt with an oversized “army” jacket, and combat boots. She was seemingly fearless, clearly strong-willed, and a fighter. She protests vigorously against fate like any good hero (I’m really finding myself missing my APLit class right about now), she struggles and is clearly flawed, and she ends up as a victor (poor word choice?) in the sense that (SPOILER AHEAD) she ends up alive, with Peeta, in the long run.

The first and last time I decided to dress up as Sherlock Holmes

And then there’s the next literary character that I threw myself into, Sherlock Holmes. Admittedly, I had always loved detective stories (As I’m reflecting on this, I’m feeling a bit like a Crim major was always in the cards…) and Holmes was always the epitome of a detective. He seemed to be the kind of intelligent that I wished I was-just knowledgeable enough on every subject of pertinence and ignorant on those unimportant few that didn’t help him solve cases. It came as no surprise to anyone I knew that I found myself entranced by the incredible detective himself, and I have to imagine that it was even less shocking when I found myself just as intrigued by the BBC program that began airing in 2010. In my eyes, Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman brought those parts to life in such a unique way (my personal Holmes-impersonator of choice up until this point was Jeremy Brett, whose portrayals were practically verbatim to the original text-WHICH I LOVED) and I couldn’t help but be drawn back into the world of Holmes and Watson (or Sherlock and John, as the BBC program has made into habit).

But the thing I see in all of these characters that I often lack is their confidence. These characters have beliefs that they stand for, and they seem to just know that what they’re doing is right. 

I can barely type a sentence without going back to revise it, and yet these people snap out figures, facts, and deductions faster than I can type my name, with nary a second guess or doubt in their minds. 

How do they do that? Why am I not like that? 

There’s a reason I’ve been thinking about literature a lot over the last week. On a delightful Wednesday evening after band one day, I met up with one of the drum majors initially to talk about drum major auditions (a whole other story to tell there), but ultimately, we ended up talking about college and how a girl from *Chicago* ended up coming all the way out here to be at the University of Maryland. I talked about making the decision between California and Maryland, and how I ultimately spent a lot of time wondering [read:worrying] that I had made the wrong choice. She then lent me a book, under the recommendation that “I would love it”. To use one of my ‘college colloquialisms’, she’s not wrong. I really did love the book (Big Magic, by Elizabeth Gilbert- 10/10 would recommend), I devoured the entire thing during my hour and a half long flight home and found myself lost in thinking about the things I had learned from it, and pretty much spent the rest of the week being ridiculously pensive. 

Also, it should be stated that this was my first time home since August, so I was understandably excited to go back. I had contacted my dad earlier on in the year (September? October?) because it had just started to get cold, and I was feeling nostalgic for Chicago winters and being bundled up and walking around the city and my hometown, and I realized that I wanted to be home for my birthday. That’s how I ended up on a nice afternoon flight reading the brilliant work of Elizabeth Gilbert. Weirdly enough, that and my flight home were probably the two most predictable parts of my trip home. 

Part Two: The Break of All Breaks

You see, I had scheduled myself out ridiculously (as per usual) in that I was supposed to see one friend at her college, then another two at theirs, and then a friend from my high school back at home- all in one day. Not the world’s worst idea, in fact, it easily made for one of the best birthdays I’ve ever had, but still, kind of a wild and crazy thought I had imagined that ended up becoming reality. More things you probably never knew about me- I take great pleasure in exploring schools I don’t or didn't attend. For example, when I was in middle school I was on the scholastic bowl team, and whenever we had a match that wasn’t at home (which was more often than not thank goodness, our home matches were boring) we would all figure out a way to carpool and end up at the opposing team’s school. I was always in awe of the way that different schools were laid out, the way that hallways and lockers differed from our tiny private school, and sometimes just the sheer size of the buildings (rather coincidentally, in my opinion, one of the middle schools that I thought was huge at the time was the middle school that I would’ve gone to had I stayed in the district for public school). This love for visiting other schools continued well into high school and now into college. So when I went to visit some of my closest friends at Loyola and Northwestern, I loved getting to see the campuses. 

I also found myself struck with some obscure realizations, most of which hit me on the drive back to my hometown. 

First, I literally cannot imagine myself anywhere else than where I am right now. I loved seeing Loyola and Northwestern, but just like when I was in middle school and high school and I couldn’t see myself going to a rival school, I can’t now either. UMD has firmly cemented itself in my heart as a home, and it’s would take a lot of work to change that. It was strange to see my friends so at home in campuses that were so firmly entrenched in cities, while my campus has a distinct “college town” feel to it (another thing I thought I had wanted to avoid). I very seriously couldn’t visualize myself going to school in the middle of a big city, a perspective I assume would be different if I were going to school in say, London, but nonetheless, given my current living situation, I feel delightfully at home on my campus, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. 

Second, going back wasn’t the same. Interacting with people wasn’t the same. Being around my best friends wasn't the same… Well, for some of them. Most of my interactions with people were incredible, and I truly was grateful to have had the opportunity to see my friends, but on a few occasions, I found myself feeling like I was being inserted into the life of my friends and that I wasn’t quite the right fit. It was like one of those cardboard puzzles, where if you leave it to sit for long enough, the picture parts start falling off, so when you put it together, all the pieces still fit, but you’re missing a bit of the image. I still fit into a part of my friends’ lives, but not into the college part- for most of them. I’m a part of their home life, and that’s just how it’s meant to be. That’s not to say we have to stop being friends, only that sometimes, home and school aren’t meant to mix. 

Third, I found myself really longing the community that I saw at my friends’ schools at mine. Now, this isn’t to say that UMD doesn’t foster relationships, or create any opportunities for social interactions- not by a long shot. It’s just that for me, I haven’t really been able to find a solid group of friends- but I don’t even know if that’s the right way to put this, so I’ll try to contextualize my way around my point until I think I’ve figured it out. When I went to the first campus, Loyola, I stayed in my friend’s dorm room, which meant I got to meet her roommate- as well as a variety of people who lived on the floor with her. She had a community of people there that she knew and had relationships with that I could only envy. I’d like to say that I’m a friendly and outgoing person, but hey, we’re back on that literary-characters-traits-I-like-to-think-that-I-have vein again, aren’t we? It’s not that I’m incapable of being gregarious and meeting people, but I’m also not the most comfortable with it either, to be honest. I’ve never really been the life of a party, I’ve always preferred reading in the back, for goodness sakes, I played card games at my senior prom and had the time of my life! I’m not completely averse to conversations, I’m a pretty talkative person myself, it’s just the initial getting to know new people part that’s hard for me. Additionally, I live on a floor that isn’t regulated by age, so there are freshmen-seniors all living around me, which also makes it harder to interact with them, because for the most part if they’re older than me, they already have friends. Heck, most of the ones who are my age have friends already, so it was really strange to see my friend just walk down the hallway saying hello to everyone along the way. 

I don’t know, maybe I’m just lacking community in general. I know it’s something that’s been on my heart lately, especially in the context of Cru- but we’ll get to that later. 

Fourth (and finally), I made probably the weirdest realization of the entire break, which is that Chicago isn’t the same place I left it. Or more accurately, I’m not the same person that left Chicago. See the whole time I’ve been at UMD, I’ve joked with people about things that differ between the Midwest and Maryland. It’s generally a fun comparison when I talk about Culver’s and they’re confused, but then they talk about Rita’s and I’m confused… It’s a good time. Anyhow, I think that in the time that I’ve been here, I’ve been so eager to come home that I romanticized the idea a little bit (alright, a lot). I had this grand idea that my return to Illinois would be nothing short of an entrance of the Queen, i.e. everything would happen the way I wanted it to. But it didn’t and I was mad. As I drove back from Northwestern in the early evening, I realized that I’m not sure I can call Chicago my home anymore. Oh sure, there will always be a part of me that’s loyal to the Lake Zurich Bears and my unwavering support of Chicago sports, but I’m not quite sure I know the town that I left behind. 

I distinctly remember that every time a new school year started in middle school or high school, I would look around and feel like the school had a new atmosphere to it. With the loss of an 8th grade or senior class and the gain of a 6th grade or freshman class, things always felt just a little bit different. Not enough to be wrong, but just enough to catch your eye and make you realize it wasn’t the same. It was the same thing when I came back, except this wasn’t my senior year anymore. When I came back, it was like I was invading the intimacy of the high schoolers’ cocoon that they'd spun for themselves. The school wasn’t my proverbial stomping ground anymore, I don’t own the streets anymore. The constant would be my teachers, not my friends because they’d all gone to different places to study, and so really, what was I to come back and invade this space where I didn’t belong?

I realized in the car that I had expected coming back to be like going on winter break during High School, when all of my friends had the same time off, and I could text a friend and ask them to hang out if I was bored. I can’t do that anymore, and neither can they. No matter what, there will always be at least one scheduling conflict- for example, my last final is on December 20th, meaning I won't be coming home until the 20th at the earliest. One of my best friends finishes her fall semester on December 7th. Even that, the fact that our breaks are at such different times, was enough to make me realize the difference between these breaks and all of the other ones I’ve ever had. Things had started changing, the gears were set in motion three months ago, now it was up to me to change with the times.

It was overall a strange but delightful break, but I’m glad to be back home in Maryland. It’s funny because I’ve said that twice now and both times I’ve thought about how strange of a thought that is to me, especially if you’ve heard me talk about some of my feelings towards living out here. I’ve heard a lot of my friends say that college has shown them that they have two homes now, and how cool they think that is. While I won't disagree, because maybe that’s really how it feels to them, I tend to feel a little bit differently. To me, both Lake Zurich, Illinois, and Maryland feel like home, but only certain parts of Lake Zurich are home to me right now, while the entirety of the UMD campus is home to me at the moment. Right now, the University is totally my home, and I’m okay with that. Maybe by the time I come back for winter break, my philosophy on homes will have changed, but for nor, I just have to accept that my room and my house are a home to me, but the town isn’t anymore. 

I realized this around the same time that I came to the bittersweet conclusion that I can’t see myself living in Chicago in the future anymore- truly, truly bittersweet. 

Part Three: At It Again With The UMD

So in the midst of all of these self-realizations, I came back home. And now I’m faced with a new challenge. I’ve felt for a while that I’ve been lacking community out here, and I haven’t quite been able to pinpoint what exactly it is I’m missing, or how to get it, but I’m looking, and I’m trying. You see, this semester found me trying all sorts of new things- College Marching Band, Interviewing for a spot on the Student Judiciary, Cru’s worship team, and Cru as a whole… I’ve decided to finally pursue the things that I’m passionate about- Music, Justice, and Jesus. But I need people to support me- because I know that my walk with Christ isn’t meant to be a solo journey. I’m supposed to be able to learn more along the way from my peers, and my elders- and I’m just starting to get there with the worship team. I’m just starting to realize what my role is, and that I truly am meant to be a part of that group, even if I doubt it sometimes, because I do that a lot, especially with music. To be entirely honest with you, sometimes I wonder if that was a motivator to me in learning how to play so many different instruments, you know? Maybe if I could impress people with how many instruments I could play, they wouldn't be as disappointed in me when I failed in one aspect or another musically. 

I think that doubt might be what’s killing me most in college, to be honest. I doubt my value and worth in certain situations, and honestly…. I don’t deserve that.  I don't deserve the ridiculous standards that I set for myself-not to say that I shouldn’t have standards, only that they should be realistic- nor do I deserve the constant criticisms that I shove down my throat whenever I make a perceived mistake. I don’t need to imagine reasons that the people in a certain group think I’m failing them- if they have a problem, it’s their job to come address me, not my job to correct myself, and then attack myself over it.  God created me the way I am, with the strengths and weaknesses that I have, in order to fulfill His purpose for my life, not mine, and not those of others. At some point, I need to be able to just accept that. But that’s hard (don’t I know it), and it’s going to take some time for me to be able to constantly believe that without doubting it. 

So if that means I stay after worship rehearsals more often to literally cry to Jesus while playing praises on the piano, I’ll take it. I’ll take the season of discomfort that my spiritual life is in right now if it means that in the future, I’ll have learned from it. 

I may not like it, and I may not appreciate it right now, but it surely isn’t my place to question the plans of the God of the universe. 

I’ll be praying about it, and I hope you’ll join me. 

Signing Off, 

Amanda


P.S. I've spent the last three weeks listening to pretty much only Christian music to try and center myself, so here are some songs that are really resonating with me right now:

Head to the Heart- United Pursuit
It Is Well- Kristene DiMarco
O Come to the Altar- Elevation Worship
Touch the Sky- Hillsong United
No Longer Slaves- Bethel Music
You Make Me Brave- Bethel Music
One Thing- Hillsong Worship
Everything and Nothing Less- Chris McClarney
Tell Your Heart to Beat Again- Danny Gokey (one of the most beautiful music videos I've ever seen)