when i came to moody, i was sad.
sometimes, i was sad because people thought i was not a christian. sometimes, i was sad because people thought i said things, "just to offend people." sometimes, i am still sad because people think i'm a player. mostly, i was sad because people didn't understand me. i believe, you give people the benefit of the doubt before drawing conclusions about their backgrounds, family life or personal life. maybe the below will make (for anyone who cares) drawing my life in neat boxes a little simpler.
(postscript: i'm not bitter. cynical, maybe, but not petty enough to be bitter.)
arlington, texas, population 300,000
i grew up here. racially: diverse. economically: undiverse.
pantego christian academy, population (should i remember this? seems like 500 was an important number at one point)
kindergarten: (my teacher to my parents: "is sarah mute?")
sixth grade: (my teacher to me: "sarah, if you don't start talking during class, i'm going to have to start giving you bad grades."
tenth grade: (my counselor to me: "sarah, i really think you're going to be back next year, i mean, do you really think you're going to make it at a school that big?)
(and at martin junior year, my first week: "you went to pantego?" "yeah" "did you know so-and-so?" "yeah, i've known him since kindergarten." "he raped my best friend." "oh.")
this is a good church. some crazy stuff happened during high school here.
that's all i have to say about that right now. (not crazy good)
axxess, i liked, a lot. groovy gen-x type teaching/woship service on sunday nights, and a range of small groups inside that.
any teacher who uses nirvana or nin in his sermons without detracting from the spiritual value of the lesson is pretty cool.
and the worship? the guys from emodyment led it for part, not all, of the time i was there.
"Responsibility must be taken for personal choices." some people thought this was good. i even got a piece of paper for it from some big-league newspaper types. whoopee... it's crap. well written. poorly thought.
(i know, the infamous snr. columns aren't on there. can you believe not putting confiscated materials on the school website? so, being the benevolent martyr that i often feel myself, will see that these columns live on in their infamy, just as soon as i find one of those papers.)
Arlington Morning News, May 14 1998, "Articles Lack Dignity"
Arlington Morning News, May 14 1998, "Foul language prompts review of Martin High Newspaper"
Arlington Star Telegram, May 15, 1998, "Bernd to wait for all the facts"
Arlington Morning News, May 15 1998, "Bernd vows impartial probe of journalism advisor"
Arlington Morning News, May 21, "Martin High officials reprimand teachers"
Arlington Morning News, May 21 1998, "Teachers disciplined for newspaper, play"
CIA, population growth from 2-300-around 40/50
Christians In Action, a high school bible study. a high school bible study that fit in the gym at one point. the power of revival or renewal certainly does not lie within human hands, but depends on the movement of God upon human hearts.
why did God use us, barbie? we sure didn't know what we were doing.
when i first went to martin, 1996, the day after see you at the pole (SYATP), kim and i went to warriors for christ. including us, there were three people there. with a turnout in the hundreds the morning before -- it was obvious something was lacking. enter: joe williamson, adam gutierrez, sean estill, barbara tracy. spring break everything clicked. WFC (since that seemed more like a wrestling group than a bible study) became CIA, and the bible studies around the area hooked up (the christian student leadership council). SYATP II went off in april, and, the group grew, but stayed primarily a group of core christians.
something happened over the summer, besides barb and i's introduction to the glorious world of church politics, because when we came back to school in the fall of 97, CIA went from a handful of people, to overflowing the classroom that friday, to overflowing the choir room the next friday, to filling one third of the gym the next. crazy times.
example: X week. you'll have to ask if you want to understand that.
work. work. work.
petco. this was fun for a while when i had free time while at pantego. when i moved to martin, i no longer had free time. and this place became increasingly not fun.
south arlington animal clinic. my daddy loves me. i worked here off and on since i was little. when i was young (baby young) they used to put me in a cage to keep me out of the way when the clinic got busy. over the summer, i proved i can still fit in those same cages. what a perfect place to nap.
and the fact my daddy is a veternarian and i worked at a pet store leads to this list: one five and a half foot ball python, one bearded dragon, one rose-hair tarantula, one awesome labrador, chloe, and one peeing cocker spaniel, puppy, the cats: oreo, riker, bitty, spice, that orange one, and i think i'm forgetting one, countless amounts of fish, and rats and such feeding things in the garage. (the python, tarantula, and oreo are the babies i claim)
maybe my favorite part of my house: the green chairs
pictures will come
they're not there anymore, but whenever i think of high school, my sweetest memories will come out of these chairs. i don't know how many people sat in the chair closest to the window, while i sat in the chair closer to the bar and we spent the night talking about life and, more often, christianity and CIA. most of those people i haven't talked to in a while. but, i think my closest friends have sat there like that with me (barbie, greggie, my sister, my father, my mother). those talks are the talks i remember best, the ones i had with them.
we slept in those chairs. talked in those chairs. watched 80s movies in those chairs. sat in silent contemplation in those chairs. i so strongly desire to own chairs like that again. to know people like that again, that would sit and talk all night, even though they might have to be at work in the morning (sometimes when they left). good times. my best memories.
i'm hoping since this is at the bottom, this final part of my arlington-life that i'm not too proud of, and really quite sensitive about talking about... well, i'm hoping most people won't make it down to read this.
relationships 101
i had friends in high school. they call me M.B. now (if you don't already know this, the first m is mega, and the b starts a word rhyming with witch). granted, i enjoy the nickname thoroughly now, the sudden switch from friends to not friends has probably left me a little jaded on relationships in general. chances are, in two or three years, those of you who would care enough to read this now won't be a part of my life anymore. i don't think that's a good or a bad thing, but, it's a part of life. whether anyone likes it or not. i don't like it.
i had three "boyfriends." dumped numero uno. number two said he decieved me into thinking we were dating (this guy was soooo moody he could be a poster child). number three wasn't a good deal. i learned a lot. and in that respect, the relationship has been invaluable in my life. there's things i learned that i don't think i wanted to have to learn. learning to love someone is one thing, learning who to let yourself love and learning when to stop loving someone aren't lessons i was mature enough to handle (that second lesson was when i was in chicago, not before i came, for those who remember a really teary-eyed sarah from freshman year).
like i said when i started out, i don't have regrets, and my cynism probably just serves to hide the hurts i'd prefer not to look at anymore. without the lessons i've learned from my mistakes, there's things in my life that have happened that i might not have been able to deal with - or people i wouldn't be able to help. and, although the mistakes i might change - those times when god has used those experiences or that knowledge i wouldn't trade for the world.
don't think of my moody life as who i am, as a complete person, if you know me from moody. and if you knew me back in arlington, i'm not that person either.
who am i? i am my roommate.