First: Mingling. This is a trait you are either born with or you are not. I fall under the "not" column. Like most theatre people, I'm authentically withdrawn and socially awkward. We are good at our craft because we know how to watch and listen. That guy who's always the life of the party? Not a theatre guy. Watch Jim Carey interviews, he'll back me up. Anyway, in social settings like this Genoa is also socially retarded. We make a great pair. I went with her knowing that if I did not, she would not have gone by herself. By the time we got into the beautiful back yard, which opened onto the lake, Genoa had found a girl from T.J. who is a theatre techie majoring in bio and chem.
And I was left with the T.J. girl's mom, struggling for conversation. Once I covered "Where did she go to high school?" and "What's her major" I was out. I don't like group settings. I Hate Group Settings. I hate reunions. Family ones are different. But I've never been to a high school reunion because I know I'll hate it. I will offend someone, somehow, or laugh too loudly or judge my weight and get depressed. Thanks, but no thanks.
One of the reasons I loved my giant colleges (remember, I attended three) was that I could disappear. I like big classes, a big campus, a big student union where I can disappear into an overstuffed chair. I love being anonymous.
Genoa deliberately chose a small school due to her social anxiety. In her mind, too big is overwhelming. She wants to be on a small campus with small classes so she knows everybody and feels comfortable. It is weird to me.
And it was eye opening last night, when Genoa freely chatted with people she's never seen before, excited to make new friends at her new school, and I had to force myself away from her.
Because I don't want to talk to adults. I wanted to talk to the kids.
But I did. I mingled. I met 7 parents, the college President and a few alumni. I flipped the "performance" switch on my back so I could function. It lasted about fifteen minutes before I had to walk away and stand at the edge of the lake alone. Then I turned and returned to the parents, chatted up another pair, returned to the lake. Took a picture of the lake. Sent it to a friend who lives in the neighborhood. Texted back and forth with her. Tried to return to the parents but just could not make myself, so I sat with Dene, the President of FLC. I like her. Everybody associated with this school is crazy nice.
Second: Conversation. Here's the thing. I will listen for weeks. I like listening. But if you won't talk, I will fall silent. (Clearly I am not speaking of meetings with friends, only strangers.) And if you, too, are silent, then I will bow to the pressure of performance and start chatting. And talking. And Babbling. And unchecked, I will say something rude or offensive or judgmental. I will not even know that I'm doing it. Because I am Conversationally Challenged. It is a sub-issue of "Mingling". I'm a director, an actor, a writer, a teacher. I don't Conversation, I Lecture. I Monologue. Please do not force me into these scenarios. It is a bad day for everyone. Thankfully, at 48 I know how to trick people into talking by asking questions that require more than a one word answer. So I know a lot about the kids G is going to college with.
Third: Genoa is going to college. She has chosen to double major in Theatre and Political Science with a minor in Forensic Science. She is not sure if it's law school or a lab she's headed for. It was truly wonderful to watch her chat with her new friends last night. She is thrilled to get a fresh start. She learned some great lessons in high school, and between theatre and LHS teachers and Betty Buckley there is barely a trace left of the angry little pink haired troll that started at LHS four years ago. She was genuinely excited about chatting. On the drive home she was bubbling with tales she had heard of Pet Disasters and College Anxiety. She knows kids in her hall, and kids in the other halls. She exchanged phone numbers and spent last night texting a girl she'd just met who graduated from Bear Creek. They are making plans to see each other before they leave for school, maybe do some shopping.
Fourth: Genoa is going to college. I had the most vivid, heartbreaking Zombie dream last night, and ultimately it was about Genoa leaving for college. I have enough anxiety over her making friends, getting sick, not eating, getting snowed in over a break...she actually made it worse by seeming to adapt quickly and easily to the gathering. When we first arrived she froze up. Her "Go To" is "To Attack" whenever she is uncomfortable. We drove by the house once because there were only a few cars parked outside and she did not want to be the first to arrive. But the moment we were walking up the driveway, Delaney from T.J. and her mom were also arriving. I stepped back and within seconds G had made her first new friend. And How Fortuitous that Delaney is also a theatre techie who is majoring in Biology and minoring in Forensic Science?
So, if it's meant to be. I suppose it's meant to be. On 27 August we will drive her to Durango. And leave her there until Thanksgiving break.
College is a thing.
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