Thursday, May 27, 2010

This I Believe...

Every spring my seniors write a personal essay that goes along with NPR's This I Believe program. We spend weeks making lists and writing drafts and looking at examples, and each year I'm blown away by the topics they choose to write about the the experiences they share with me. This year, I decided to write my own:

One of my favorite quotes is one by C.S. Lewis that says, “Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: "What! You, too? I thought I was the only one!’"

Growing up, my dad had a strict “he/she whose feet are touching the pedals controls the radio” rule. This meant that if mom was driving, the radio was turned off (she couldn’t see when it was too loud…I don’t get it either), if dad was driving, we were listening to talk radio, and if my brother was driving, I was listening to the sound of my frantic prayers. I never got to control the radio in the car, and so I looked forward to getting my license, climbing behind the wheel and belting out the words to the profound and soulful lyrics of Britney Spears and *NSYNC.

So I became a car singer. When I get really bored, I dance too, but that’s a different essay. To this day, singing in the car is probably one of my ten favorite things to do. It never seemed strange to me, because I’d always done it. I sing in the car.

It took me several years to figure it out, but one of the reasons I don’t like having other people in my car is because they always want to talk, and then I can’t hear the music over their talking. Why would you waste perfectly good car time on talking?!

It took me even longer to realize that one of the reasons I LOVED driving in the car with my two best friends is that they were also car singers. One time, when I was home from college, Heidi, with whom I’ve been best friends since I was three, was in the car with me and we were driving down the freeway, singing as loudly as we could. Heidi commented that she loved it when I was home because I was the only person she could sing in the car with. Now, when I’m with them, we make sure to bring CD’s and Ipods so that we have plenty of choices. We crank the music and kill our voices. And it seems so silly to look forward to something as simple as singing, but I think, when you really get down to the essence of things, isn’t that what makes friendship worthwhile? Not necessarily singing in the car, but sharing something that you love with someone else who loves the same thing.

So I believe in singing in the car. Now, I was friends with Heidi and Lindsay before we discovered a mutual love of car singing, but I feel like that’s our thing. It’s a guilty pleasure, and sharing it with someone makes it less geeky somehow. It makes me feel like I’m not complete freak and there are people like me in the world. We want to find people like us. It’s why we all have a massive identity crisis in middle school, and it’s why friendship is so great. It allows you to share your thing with someone, whether that thing is singing in the car, or dressing up like a Star Wars character, or climbing mountains, or whatever it is you might think is kind of weird until you find someone else and can say “What? You too? I thought I was the only one!”
I'm pretty proud of it.

The website is www.thisibelieve.org if you're interested in finding out more.