That’s so… “Stereotypical”

I know. We’ve all said it. We’ve all done it. And chances are, as much as we dislike being stereotyped ourselves, we will still categorize others until they fall into the right column in our brain.

This is not a blog rant where I complain about how much I hate stereotypes. As much as I wanted to rant about how we shouldn’t stereotype, I realized I couldn’t do it. Because I would be a hypocrite. As much as I absolutely loathe stereotypes, I can’t say that I have never done it or don’t currently do it. The word stereotype gets a bad rep. If you are a stereotype, you’re common. You’re the normal person in your own category. You’re not only common and normal, you’re predictable.

Ouch. That one hurt.

It’s so easy to get offended by the word stereotype. Why? Because comparison, that’s why. Because we are being compared to everyone else who has a similar trait to us. I think, most of us, deep down, want to be different. Some of us may want to duck and stick our head in the sand and blend in, but I truly believe that we all have a God-given desire to be unique. I believe this is why we are so offended when we are stereotyped. I want you to face the facts. YOU HAVE BEEN STEREOTYPED. Like it or not, you have been sorted and placed into piles like a deck of cards. Whether it be by your skin color, hair color, smile, laugh, religion, gender, family, income, instrument, sport, weight, clothes, you name it.  You don’t have to be in middle school or high school to be stereotyped.  You just have to exist. Would you like to know why? Because that is how we were made.

I know what you’re thinking. “Okay, duh. I could have told you that one.” No really. Listen to me here guys. We were made in categories. Whether you take a poetic or literal interpretation of Genesis, or you don’t believe at all, let me tell you: When God created us, we fell into a category.

Genesis 1:24-26 says,

“And God said, ‘Let the land produce living creatures according to their kinds: the livestock, the creatures that move along the ground, and the wild animals, each according to its kind.’ And it was so God made the wild animals according to their kinds, the livestock according to their kinds, and all the creatures that move along the ground according to their kinds. And God saw that it was good. Then God said, ‘Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals and over all the creatures that move along the ground.”

I may have hit or completely missed the point, but I believe we all exist in categories. And I don’t think stereotyping is a result of the average mean girl. I believe that categorizing is an act of human nature. I mean, be honest with me here, but have you ever not learned something in school that wasn’t in a group or category? Observing information and  grouping it into a category is how we process information. It’s a form of organization. Alright, so I have covered the “type” part of the word, but what about “stereo.”

Just because we are grouped by ourselves and other people does not mean we have to remain in that group or category.  I think, in order to properly assess the word “stereo,” and how you are the same as everybody else in your group, we must first talk about how you are different. As I previously stated, even though you were created and fell into the “human” category, you were created with a personal blueprint. Do you remember when you first learned about fingerprints? I was in third grade at the time, but when my teacher told me that no one has the same fingerprint, it blew my mind. Literally, my brain did not have the capacity to process how significant this information was. What about the fact that your fingerprints are on you hands. What about the fact that everything you touch, you touch with the most unique, individual part of you ON THIS ENTIRE EARTH. Read that again. For the people who just ignored that, I  will make sure you read it again. You are the only one to ever have and behold your own fingerprint, located on your hands, and everything that you physically touch and come into contact with now holds the most unique, individual part of you on this entire earth, You cannot tell me that the inside of you is not unique when the outside of you already separates you from every other living thing on this planet.

Now that you know you are unique, not only on the inside, but on the outside too. I want you to think about the “stereo” part of stereotype. The prefix “stereo-” spawns from the word stereos, a classical Greek word meaning solid. The word changed throughout history to come to describing something, in the 19th century, meaning fixed or without change. Biologically, our design is fixed. Without change, we reproduce we will always recreate a replica of ourselves. Without fail, we all look like each other with a couple  observed differences. When you have a large amount of similar things with different traits, what do you tend to do? If you were given a sack full of rocks and you were given one hour to be able to tell the difference between all of the rocks, what would you do? Well, I hope you would group them by their similar characteristics.  This would be the fastest, natural, and human way to learn and understand what kind of rocks you are given.

In conclusion, if you didn’t understand any of my metaphors or comparisons, I want you to understand this. We stereotype ourselves because it is natural. Distinction between similar information by placing it into groups or categories is the way humans learn and understand life around them. It is natural. It is how we were made. Just because you were or are stereotyped should not offend you. It should not offend you because you know (at least I hope you know after reading this) that you are uniquely and individually created. Despite the fact that you look like every other human being, you have a physical distinction separating you that NO ONE CAN STEREOTYPE. So don’t be offended if you’re placed in a group or category by the people around you. They are just processing information. What really matters is what you think of yourself and your own stereotype, because you are your own stereo type – a beautifully unique child of God, and no one can classify you.

I love you. He loves you. You are unique and you matter.

Spread the word.



The Journey: Different Person, Same Purpose

Hello friends, it has been a while. Actually, it has been longer than a while. I haven’t blogged for over a year, and while I would like to cut myself some slack due to a “busy schedule,” it really wasn’t in my priorities to write about my life.

Trust me, I had every intention to write about the significant things happening like high school graduation, starting college, being a collegiate student-athlete, or being in my first relationship, but for some reason it didn’t happen. I would even conjure up a title and catchy statements that I wanted to use in each post, yet I never actually typed it up. Why? Well, who cares anyway? What is a funny story to me that may not be funny to someone else? These dumb blog posts with bad punctuation, crappy grammar, and run-on sentences just highlight how unintelligent I am when it comes to attempting to use my primary English language. These negative thoughts and ticking clocks kept me from writing – all year. I forgot the reason I started my blog, two years ago, in the first place. I didn’t create a digital diary to sugar coat my life or my punctuation errors. In fact, my intent for creating a WordPress was to highlight my mistakes and crazy events that happened in my life; hence the name of the blog, “Slipping on Banana Peels.”

Now that my mindset is back on track, I have a week left of winter break, and I’m sitting on my bed with a blasting space heater six inches away from me, I am ready to finally, write. I mean type. You know what I mean.

Obviously, New Years Eve is tomorrow, or today, depending on when I publish this post. You are probably going to, if you aren’t already, spend the weekend with friends or family, or with your friends family, or with your family’s friend. You pick your poison there, friend. You probably will, if you haven’t already, reflect on the past 365 days and the major events that have taken place throughout this time period – the good and the bad. From your reflections you probably will make, or have already made, goals for the next trip around the sun. These goals, better known as New Year’s Resolutions (NYR), will set the standard and raise the bar for you in order to make the next year-long space trip a little better, a little less miserable and more a little more enjoyable. Whether you have already written out your goals or you’re planning to improve your improv at life (meaning you made no goals), I hope and pray that you will succeed. I pray that your new goals will plant a seed in your life or somebody else’s life. Throughout the year I pray that you will have nurtured your seed, fed, and watered it. And maybe, possibly at the end of next year, I pray that you will have grown something. Whether you grow a better you on the inside or on the outside, I pray that you will come out of next year with the mentality that, despite the hardships, you did it. You fell, but you didn’t fail.

This past year, I fell a lot. To go with the theme of my blog (bear with me) I slipped on a lot of banana peels. There we go, you made it through my cheesy topic sentence. You have endured the worst of it. As I scour my brain for a reasonable frame of time, I believe it only took one to two months for me to already have been done with, absolutely over with 2017. As it probably was for everyone, this past year was the hardest year of my life. The only positive to come out of all of the negative is that I am a better, stronger, and more faithful person because of all “it.” Now, I could go on a rant and list all of the crap that I waded in throughout the year, but we all get it. Life’s hard, challenging, and messy and we all experience it. So if I say I’m glad to leave 2017 or that it has been the worst year of my life, you already know what I’m talking about. No sarcasm intended, year 19 of 19 was a challenge. I know I have so much left in life to experience and that it will get worse and it will get better.

When it comes to you and me and the way we reflect on our life, chances are, we will never be satisfied with our past. BUT before I lose you (c’mon people stay with me here) I want to share something with you that I read today. This jump started my motivation to write this blog post. If you feel like life really kicked you down this past year, I mean it REALLY gotcha bad, I want you to know (bolded, underlined, and italicized for you convenience) that your journey isn’t about where you are at the end, but whom you’ve become along the way.

Your journey isn’t about where you are at the end, but whom you become along the way. Okay, so basically, what you’re saying is those NYR’s they don’t really matter if I don’t reach them, right? If I didn’t exactly achieve those goals, or the past year, “my journey,” didn’t really go my way or fall in my favor… it just doesn’t matter? From my point of view, that is exactly right. It doesn’t matter that my valleys were deeper than my hills were higher this past year. Why? Because I learned from each valley. I was stuck at the bottom for awhile, but I was able to, eventually, climb out. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed the hills, but what I learned most came from the valleys. So… does that mean the worst year of my life is actually the best year of my life because I gained more knowledge, more responsibility, and dug a little deeper to uncover a little bit more of who I was made to be? Yes. The best year of my life was the worst year of my life because I am one “step,” year, trip around the sun, three hundred sixty-five days, 31,536,000 seconds closer to becoming the individual God has made me to be. If that is not the most encouraging, most uplifting thing to come to my realization, I don’t know what is. One year later I am a different person who has endured hard things, but one year later I am the same purpose that He has always intended me to be.

I had the honor of speaking at my high school graduation this year. Needless to say, it had been my goal since freshman year to stand in front of my classmates and give, what most people believe, is the most boring speech of their entire existence. I made it my challenge to change this. Long story short, I called everybody losers including my classmates, teachers, and all of their family sitting in the audience. (I will post a link later to provide further explanation.) At the end of the speech I informed my classmates that I wished them a life full of losses, because I knew that their findings would present opportunities far greater than the ones they left behind. Little did I know that God had a lot of “losing” planned for the rest of my 2017. (He works in funny ways, doesn’t He 😉 )  Through the loss, I found who the best people are that I need to surround myself with, I found areas I need to work in, on the court and in the classroom, and I learned how to be okay with not being okay. As a final reflection of my year, I learned a lot, I lost a lot, I loved a lot, and I grew a lot closer in my faith and relationship with God.

Here’s to another year full of love, loss, lessons, and a whole lot of BLESSIN’S. (If you didn’t read that in a southern accent, please do me a favor and reread that once more.) This next year let’s plant some seeds, grow something, and find joy in the journey!!

To all of y’all who made it through the year with me, thank you, love you, and cya next year 😉





Spreading my… “Wings”

ATTN: I am still alive, despite the fact that I haven’t blogged since the middle of the summer. I am currently finishing some of my drafts, getting y’all caught up. Not only am I behind on blogs, I am also behind in edits! I finally finished the GoPro edit from the end of July. And here is the blog from my drafts over my Palm Beach, FL trip. The Edit and pictures are at the bottom. Enjoy 🙂


I apologize, I have not blogged as much as I thought I might this summer. I knew I was going to have a busy summer, which would provide exciting writing prompts for the blog, but I never thought I would be so that busy I wouldn’t have time to write about it. Not only have I not written anything about my summer, I am just now uploading summer pictures to Facebook. This literally requires 25 seconds of my day, and I didn’t even attempt to make an effort until now.

Don’t get me wrong, I love being busy, it gives me an excuse not to clean my room all summer, and to never unpack a suitcase. But there are times when I feel so many things are going on, that weeks and months become a blur and I have not been able to experience and fully enjoy each activity. It’s kind of like you, never really appreciate breathing oxygen until you have tried to hold your breath for as long as you can. It is a weird analogy, in simpler terms, these last two months I have been holding my breath, hoping that my last summer as a high school student will be full of excitement and remarkable opportunities, as long as I stay busy participating in multiple activities and events (holding my breath). As long as I hold my breath, summer will last longer, the sun tea will taste sweeter, and it will be a summer to remember. But I have been holding my breath for so long, I forgot that in order to appreciate air, and my ability to breathe, I have to slow down and take a deep breath. I have to slow down and appreciate my experiences. I have to unpack that suitcase, in order to appreciate packing it. Maybe my breathing analogy will register with some people, others probably will think I’m crazy. That’s okay. I’m just a little lightheaded. Get it?.. Okay, I’m done now.

Back to my original intent of this blog post. I had to type this before I forgot anymore details. If you know me, you know I am have a terrible memory. If I was a cartoon character, I would be Dory.

(Here is where my draft ended, and where I am picking back up, on December 19th.)

I’m not sure where I was going with the sentence I left off with five months ago, but here is the story of my trip to Palm Beach. While writing this, I focused on the bigger details that I could remember, so if you start to wonder why it is a little choppy, that’s why! Throughout the trip I ran into a lot of problems, or slipped on a lot of banana peels, if you will.

I had the opportunity to fly to Palm Beach to participate in a volleyball camp. It was an amazing experience and I am thankful I for my parents who made the possibility a reality.

I would like to write about how smooth and problem-free my trip was, but then it would not be an appropriate “Banana Peel” story.  Everyone wants to have a good flying experience. Fast and efficient. I mean that’s why people choose to fly over drive anyway, right?

My connecting flight out of Cedar Rapids to Chicago was supposed to leave around 6:00 in the morning; however, there was a summer storm brewing and we finally left around 7:30. There was already little to no time to catch my flight from Chicago to Palm Beach, and the storm delay in Cedar Rapids made me miss my flight all together.

By the time I got to my assigned gate in O’Hare, the plane was already gone, and so was my checked luggage! Crazy right? My bag could catch the flight, but I couldn’t.

To tell you the truth, I had no idea what to do next. This had only been my fourth time flying and first time flying alone. I wandered around O’Hare for at least 30 minutes trying to call and find someone to help me get a different direct or connecting flight; meanwhile, my Mother was texting and calling me, which wasn’t the least bit helpful! It was chaotic.

More bad news awaited my arrival at the ticket desk. There were no more flights leaving for Palm Beach from Chicago, that day, but I could wait two hours for a connecting flight to Charlotte, NC in hopes of catching the plane that was to depart for Palm Beach later that afternoon.

“Okay, that should be fine,” I thought to myself. As long as I am able to make it to Palm Beach by the afternoon, I won’t miss my ride or any of the camp. By now, the same storm that had held up my flight in Cedar Rapids had made its way to Chicago, and IT COMPLETELY SHUT DOWN O’HARE. That’s right people. The same storm. Planes were stuck in the air, MY plane to be more precise, and planes were stuck on the ground. No one was to leave or land until notified. Forty-five minutes after we were supposed to have departed for Charlotte, the officials gave the “all clear” and our plane was allowed to land. It took another 45 minutes to unload and load all of the passengers.

I am reliving my anxiety while typing this.

On the flight to Charlotte I met a friend who was in the same situation as me. We had both missed out flight from Chicago to PBI (Palm Beach International) and, Spoiler Alert, we were both about to miss our second flight to PBI  (in Charlotte) because of the hold up back in Chicago.

Also on this flight, God had placed an angel next to me. He was a plane flying guru, and he helped my friend and I track our luggage as well as the next plane we were supposed to catch with his handy dandy first class wifi. If you are reading this David, thank you for all of your help!! He is also the one in my GoPro edit that helps me stow my carry-on! 🙂

My new flying friend and I landed late in Charlotte, and missed our second flight of the day.

We weren’t sure if there was another flight out to PBI, and we had come up with a Plan C. Plan A was what was supposed to happen, and B was already in the air, headed to PBI. In order to get to get to our destination in a timely fashion, before midnight was the goal, we were going to catch the first flight out of Charlotte to Ft. Lauderdale, Uber up to Boca Raton, and use her car to get to her other car at the airport. I can’t remember the exact Plan C, but we were trying to get out of Charlotte and down to Florida asap, and it involved flying somewhere, ubering from there, and getting her car somewhere.

For those of you who think I’m a little coo coo for agreeing to hop in a car with a stranger, I have a good-people-gauge. She was a good egg.

We wait in line for 20 minutes to find out there was only one ticket left to Ft. Lauderdale. I told Alisa she could have it because I wouldn’t be able to get anywhere without her anyway.

Another 30 seconds had passed and that last seat had gone to the creepily dressed man next to us. (I kid you not he was in some sort of Mad Hatter costume.) We were now on Plan D. The next flight out to PBI was supposed to leave 8 hours from what ever time it was at that moment, and it was our only choice.

The next 8 hours was a blur. We had split up to kill time and all I remember doing is charging my phone for two hours, eating, and trying to find the cleanliest way to use the bathroom while I locked my carry-on, pillow, purse, and blanket in the 5 by 2.5 foot stall with me. I also found a corner to take a nap in. It was some time around 9:00 p.m. and we were just starting to load the plane. The plane was loaded and guess what? We were having engine problems. I mean I would rather have problems on the ground than in the air, but no problems would have been preferred.

It was 11:00 by the time we landed and Alisa and I were looking for our checked luggage that had supposedly arrived earlier that morning on our original flight. It took awhile, but we finally found it in a locked room.

Thoughts on my first time flying alone:

It was cool going places I had never been to before, but the entire day had been an exhausting mess.

THANK GOD for helpful people. (David and Alisa)

Always be prepared for to be stuck in an airport all day. (Maybe even all night.)

Palm Beach Volleyball Camp

Out of all of the volleyball camps I have gone to, the four day camp at Palm Beach Atlantic University has been the best. It was very well ran, well organized, and it had a great coaching staff. It was also held a very competitive atmosphere, along  with a lot of games and scrimmaging. I also enjoyed waking up and starting each day with their morning devotionals!

At the camp, all the campers were divided into competitive teams. These teams competed in drills, games, and scrimmages together. In the final tournament, my team, Team Beard, (our coach, James, had a fluffy beard) won the championship! The last day of camp there was an All Star game and an All Tournament Team. I had the pleasure of participating in both.

All in all, I was able to make a lot of friends from all around the country: Alaska, New York, New Jersey, Viginia, Colorado, you name it, stay on a gorgeous campus, and compete in high level competition volleyball! It was fantastic.

My favorite day of camp was the last day. Definitely not because I had to come home, but because a couple of the PBA Alumni agreed to take a touristy Iowan girl to see the ocean for the first time in 5 years. Trust me, I had no problem getting up at 5:00 a.m. to watch the sunrise and swim in the warm, blue, salty waters of the Atlantic. I couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off my face, I was so happy. It was without a doubt one of the best days of my Senior Summer. (Thank you Christina and Rachel!)

Heading Home

If you thought you had heard the end of my horrifying flying experience, think again.

We were on our way to the airport after the conclusion of camp, when passed an excessive amount of fire trucks and cop cars, even a news reporting van. I didn’t think much of it. Later, I found out what the problem had been… when I overheard a lady’s conversation on the phone. That sounds bad, I know. Apparently there had been a gas leak on one of the planes and the passengers had to exit using the evacuation slide. So there was that. Just an hour before my plane was supposed to leave, a plane of the same airline had an extreme malfunction.

We left Palm Beach and my plane was about 30 minutes away from Chicago when the pilot informed us of, you will never guess, ANOTHER STORM! Wowza didn’t see that one coming. Chicago O’Hare had shut down and wasn’t allowing any planes to land or take off due to the storm. So we began circling, airborne. After almost an hour of circling, we were then informed that we were about to run out of gas and we needed to fly to Indianapolis to fuel up. Get this, we were in the air so long, a person ACTUALLY tried smoking in the plane’s bathroom. At this point, I wasn’t even phased. I accepted the fact that I had missed my flight home to Cedar Rapids and that I wasn’t going home until the next day.

It was 11:00 when we landed in Indy and we were not allowed off the plane. Some 300 passengers sat on our plane for over an hour while they fueled up the plane and waited out the storm in Chicago.

I spotted an open seat, next to one of my friends from camp, and figured, minds well pass time sitting next to somebody I know. I moved up to sit by my friend Rachel, leaving most of my stuff in back in my assigned seat. This was probably the biggest mistake I made on the trip home. Pro flying tip #68 always keep your stuff with you! Eventually we were both hungry and I went to the back of the plane to see if they would give us any food. We had been on the same plane for over five hours and the flight attendant handed me the very last snack box. I envisioned our situation as a mild case of the show “Survivor” or “Flight 29 Down.”

Eventually, we were allowed off the plane to use the bathroom and vending machines in the Indianapolis airport. The lady that tried smoking while we were airborne managed to get her smoke in, in the airport bathroom. Classy. Rachel and I messed around on the flat escalators and headed back to the plane to reload.

On the way back from Chicago, I had fallen asleep next to Rachel and I woke up to major turbulence. I found half of the contents of my purse had fallen out and it was rolling around all over the floor. In hindsight, this is probably when my beats had gotten stolen. I was groggy and didn’t think to check to make sure everything was still in my bag.

We landed, quickly packed up our stuff, and got off the plane. I said goodbye to Rachel who had to catch a different flight home to Dallas, and I went to find food. The line to McDonalds’s was about 200 people deep, so I settled for a 20$ meal from Starbucks, also purchasing my breakfast that I was going to eat in 4 hours. After eating, I got my ticket situation figured out and was on standby for the next flight to Cedar Rapids which was due to depart at 9:00 a.m. The time was somewhere around 2:00 in the morning.

As I walked through Chicago O’Hare I quickly noticed that I was not the only one stranded for the night. There were cots everywhere, literally everywhere. People were sleeping on benches and using blankets as coats. It was quite the sight. Luckily, I didn’t have to sleep on a cold bench or wait in a line of 100 for a cot.

Remember up above, under “Thoughts on first time flying alone,” how I said “Always be prepared for to be stuck in an airport all day. (Maybe even all night.)?” Well I actually prepared for this when I had started packing the night before. I had all of my bathroom necessities: toothbrush, contact case, face wash, washcloth, floss, etc. stowed away in my carry on along with a pillow and blanket. I got ready in the bathroom and headed over to the gate my plane was to depart from the next morning.

I fell asleep around 3:00 a.m. and woke up around 6:00 a.m. I packed up my stuff, found a restroom, and then proceeded to go wait in line for my favorite popcorn store, Garrett’s, to open. Definitely a great life decision if I ever made one in those last 24 hours.

It was after I had eaten breakfast that I realized I did not have my wireless beats headphones. I about cried. I had had it with the bad experiences and this finally broke me. I packed up all of my important stuff and left my pillow blanket to cover my carry-on, while I set off to find help and figure out what to do. Probably not the best decision, leaving my bag unattended, considering I had just lost an item of mine, but the lighter my load, the quicker I could move. I asked a couple desks and they all told me I needed to go downstairs, that is, leave the checked security area. I tried to hold in the tears. My plane was supposed to leave at 9:00 and at the time was 7:40. Somehow, I needed to leave the secure area, find the Lost and Found area, and get back in time to board my plane at 8:30. I was hysterical, but I needed to find my beats. I grabbed my purse and set off to find the Lost and Found. Meanwhile, my stuff was still sitting alone in a corner. (You are also not supposed to leave your stuff unattended or it will be confiscated by security.) So I also had that to worry about.

By the time I get to the luggage claim, the tears are streaming down my face. I see a “Lost Luggage” sign and under it I find a stagnant line, 45 people deep. I went to the back of the line. A couple people asked if I was okay and I told them what I needed and they knew as much as I did. Nothing. Finally, I asked someone to hold my spot while I went to ask one of the workers if I was in the right place. I was in the wrong line. Good news and bad news. I thank the kind people for holding my spot and walk to the other end of the long hallway where I found the lost, Lost and Found. Ironic. More bad news, it was 7:55 and the L&F didn’t open until 8:00. More tears. All I wanted at this point was to be home, sleeping in my bed, with all my stuff. I was surprised I held my emotions together this long to be honest.

After asking a different desk, twice, where the L&F employee was, a woman comes out at 8:03. Through my tears and shaky voice, I tell her my situation. In a thick accent she ties to calm me by saying, “It’s okay hunny, they just headphones, not important, we find them it’s okay.” This is not comforting but her attempt was appreciated. I filed a report and went back upstairs to go through security. Thank God, for TSA Pre-check. I was able to get through Chicago’s security in less than 10 minutes. That is UNHEARD of, people. I speed walk back to my stuff hiding in the corner. It is still there, and my plane had not boarded yet. Everything was good except for the fact that I did not have my headphones.

My flight to Cedar Rapids finally arrived and I had not yet received a call from the lady with the thick accent. I made he decision to give up my standby seat on the 9:00 flight. I HAD to wait and see if my headphones had made it back. I didn’t have high hopes that they actually did, but I had to do everything in my power to find out, even if it meant waiting another two hours for the next flight to Cedar Rapids.

Over the two hour wait, I got more food, tried bubble tea (it was disgusting) and took another visit to the L&F. Nothing. Nothing, Nothing, Nothing. Not a single thing. That was when I knew they were gone. So, at this very moment, some crook is listening to their music through my headphones. You’re welcome, I guess.

I board the flight the last flight to Cedar Rapids from Chicago and I was thankful to be going home. Whatever happened over the last four days didn’t matter, because I was finally getting back to my normal. The last thing I forgot was my friend Hailey’s, face in the pocket of the seat in front of me, when we landed in Cedar Rapids.

So there’s the story I put off writing about for over 5 months. My anxiety level at the moment reminds me why I couldn’t do it for so long. I have an empty pit in my stomach. Despite everything that happened, I am extremely thankful for the opportunity enabled through God and my parents, to visit such an amazing school. I am also thankful for the lifelong memories that will never escape me, good and bad.

Tips for flying:

This is advice I would have liked to have had, prior to my experience, and also some things I did that worked for me. These are in no specific order.

  • Have a “electronic bag.” This bag should be able to be zipped or closed and be small enough to fit in your purse/personal item but big enough to hold all of your charging cables, portable chargers, phone, etc. It comes in handy and keeps your bag organized.
  • Pack an empty water bottle and snacks. Getting stuck in an airport is everyone’s worst nightmare, paying the expensive airport prices for food and drink is everyone’s second worst nightmare. Stay one step ahead and save a few bucks. You can even stash your snacks inside your empty water bottle to save space.
  • Pack your toilet trees inside your carry-on/personal item. If you do not have a direct flight, you are at risk of being held at the mercy of the airlines. They have no mercy.
  • Bring a pillow and a blanket on the plane with you. Fun fact and something I found out along the way is they do not count it against you. What I mean by this is, you do not have to break your carry-on’s zipper because you tried to fit your pillow in there. Simply put your blanket in your pillow case and carry it on the plane with you.
  • Bring a second pillow case. If you are a germaphobe like me, and you bring your pillow with you through security, the airport, and on the plane, when you get to wherever you’re going you want to change that puppy before you sleep on it again, trust me.
  • Bring a debit card. This sounds weird but planes typically only accept cards and almost never cash.

Some of these are going to get a bit obvious

  • Bring something to do. No, not something on your phone. Bring a book, magazine, miniature deck of cards (Rachel and I played trash with cards on the way to Indy), something! You will want to be on your phone the entire plane ride and before you know it you’re out of battery and have nowhere to charge your phone.
  • Bring a portable charger. Those little outlets under the seats at your gate will never work, I am convinced. It is simply a necessity. Especially if you’re the person who brought the “things to do” on your phone.
  • Bring a good attitude. Such an easy thing to bring, but a lot of passengers forget it at home. I’m serious people. If you have read my entire post up to this point. THIS IS THE MOST IMPORTANT. I will not put up with anyone who is rude towards another passenger or airport employee. When I spent the night in Chicago there were over 2000 people who were stuck there. NOBODY WANTED TO BE THERE. I get it. But having a bad attitude will not fix yours or others situations. Yelling at the airport employee will not fix the situation, it will only cause others to become upset. A bad attitude is an infectious disease and only you have the cure to stop it. Also, please remember that while flying, you are not entitled to anything, not even that window speat. The people that work at the airport work there because they need to. Not because they get paid the extra bucks to put up with your grumpy, think I’m entitled to everything, ass. Please excuse my language.

That pretty much sums up my experience and the lessons learned during it! As much as I struggled throughout the trip, I had a fantastic time. Traveling new places, meeting new friends, and experiencing the adrenaline rush of running to your gate to catch the plane was SO. MUCH. FUN. I will never forget this trip, or the people that helped me through it.



Mom and I before I left!

I took a screenshot of a map of O’Hare so I could find my gate faster!

GoPro selfies are the best selfies. I got so many weird looks on camera while wearing this thing. Jokes on you people.


Alisa and I!

Alisa and I both had Lokai bracelets!

Before leaving Charlotte!

Before leaving Charlotte for Palm Beach!

Alisa kindly took my picture for mems once we arrived at PBI!


Jessie, our setter!

Coach James! (Team Beard’s headmaster)


Palms to the palms w/ Carlay

PBA Sailfish


Happiest person in the world.

West Palm Beach Island!

GoProing while getting some Vitamin Sea

Leaving Palm Beach!

The sunset as we circled outside of Chicago

Rachel and I as we wait on the plane in Indy.

Chicago at night!

So I did this thing where I took my friends face with me just for the heck of it! I thought it turned out to be hilarious! I accidentally left her face on my last flight home.


Here is a GoPro edit I made that doesn’t even begin to sum up this crazy experience.


Team 💩Show

Volleyball (club and high school) has allowed me to meet the most amazing people, travel the mid-west, and form life long friendships. For the past nine months I drove or carpooled up to Iowa City 2 to 3 times a week for practice, went to tournaments and qualifiers every other two weeks, and spent time with friends whom I will never forget. They say good things never last, but good memories last forever.

I spent this past week in Indianapolis with my family, coach, and teammates playing at the USAV GJNCs (USA Volleyball Girls Junior National Championships). We ended our 9 month season placing 5th in the nation in the 18s American division, and despite our remarkable finish, it is not what I will remember when I look back on our season. I will be reminiscing on the memories and relationships made on and off the court.

A special shout-out to Team 💩Show “Thank You”

It is weird to say goodbye to your teammates and the people you have known/played with for the past 5 years knowing you aren’t going to be seeing them on a regular basis, or going to experience the first year of college at the same time they are. Being the younger person on the team, I always knew I would have to play two years of 18s, but I didn’t expect saying goodbye to be as difficult as it has.

For the memories… I wasn’t able to capture all of them on video, or add them all to my snapchat story (or even remember all of them), but I thank you for the experience. From laughing till I cried at practice, celebrating a point and yelling “I just peed a little,” in the huddle, or almost getting hit in the middle of a busy Chicago street, I thank you guys. (Not for almost getting me killed by following you, but for laughing with me after.) There are so many more I can’t recall at the moment, but you already know my memory sucks so there’s that.

For being the most supportive group of girls I have ever been a part of. We could be losing by 15, trying to understand Chin’s sign language, and all be struggling, but we struggled through the rough times together. We laughed at our mistakes, and celebrated our successes never having a bad attitude or causing drama.

To the seniors. Thank you for giving your last high school volleyball experience your all, for showing up to practice, holding high standards, and leading the team. It is hard to think that y’all are all going your separate ways for college.

For letting me try and record with the GoPro and for always awkwardly waving and smiling into the camera. I’m gonna leave you guys with a quote from Winnie the Pooh, “How lucky am I to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.”

Love you guys.



Back to the Blog in Official Bold Lettering

I am bad at putting my feelings into words (which is contradicting because I have a blog based off of my life) but I have made a GoPro collage of sorts to help me show my feelings a little bit better.

Check out the edit I made from Nationals combined with the edits from Chicago and Minneapolis below!



“Girls State…? What’s that?”

Friend: “So… where are you going next week again?”

Me: “Oh, I’m going to Girls State.”

Friend: “Oh, congrats! For what?”

Me: “For Girls State.”

Friend: “Like… for soccer? Track?”

This was the exact conversation I had with at least a dozen family members and friends. I am here to help prepare you for the next time you have this conversation with someone, whether it be about Boys or Girls State.

To be honest, I had sympathy for the confused friend or family member who I entertained the misunderstood conversation with. The only reason I knew what this Boys/Girls State thing was, was because one of the guys at Boys State in Nebraska had slipped me his number on a napkin, when the volleyball campers and staters shared lunch in the UNL dining hall. Those were first and the last digits I received on a napkin. I don’t know if that is good or bad. ANYWAY, I couldn’t explain GS very well until after I had spent a week giving speeches and wearing a dress. Every. Single. Day. I don’t even own a weeks worth of dresses! (This is when being the same size as your mother comes in handy.) I also stole all of her khakis, but that’s another story.

For clarification purposes, “Girls State” is a literal, (but still imaginary) state. Think along the lines of Iowa or Illinois, except our state’s name is, Hawkeye Girls State. We referred to this imaginary state as the State of Hawkeye. Sorry Iowa State fans, but you are going to have to take the L again. What I’m saying is it’s not a coincidence that a state consisting of some of Iowa’s most prestigious young women is named Hawkeye. Actually, I don’t know why it’s called Hawkeye, I didn’t care enough to ask, but I secretly will be counting this as another W.

I’m going to be completely honest, I was one of about 10 girls selected from my school to go in for an interview to attend GS. I was out of town when the interviews happened, and I received the spot by default. No one else showed up from my school. Hah. At the time, I was cool with it, all I had to do was send in my resume and leadership qualities to receive basically a weeks worth of cafeteria food. This is not the typical high school cafeteria gunk where you can’t tell whether you’re eating chicken or pasta because everything tastes the same in the 1/2 cup casserole ration. No. This is the big leagues people. I’m talking soft serve ice cream, dessert bar, pizza bar, pasta bar, I think I achieved the freshman 15 in one week bar, and the salad bar (I stood by it only while wating in the ice cream line of 20 people). I was cool with the free weeks worth of food, free dorm stay, scholarship opportunities, and something else to put on my resume. (May I remind you nothing has gone wrong yet in this blogpost.)

A couple months after I had registered and sent in my parent permission form late (typical), I wanted to attend a volleyball camp of a college I was interested in. GUESS WHAT WEEK THE CAMP WAS SCHEDULED FOR. I am convinced scheduling conflicts will be the death of me. You can quote this in my obituary.

This scheduling issue was my fault, but in my defense I didn’t even know I wanted to go to this college until after I had received this, what was becoming a pain in my rear, default opportunity. I begged the Rents to let me back out of it, but they wouldn’t have it. So I sucked it up, prayed the college wouldn’t be off the table, packed up 7 bags, and drove two hours to the Drake campus. Under different circumstances I would have enjoyed the week of strict dress codes, presentations, and busy schedule a lot more. This was definitely a Banana Peel for the record books.

Alright, I’m off my soapbox now. I was able to be sponsored by my American Legion Auxiliary, and as greatful as I was for the experience, I can wholeheartedly say I will not be entering the workforce running for political office. At GS we replicated City, County, and State elections, made party platforms, and went through the process of creating bills and making amendments. We had standing votes over the legalization of marijuana and odd speeches over embarrassing period stories. I’m not joking. We could all relate, but I wasn’t about to tell 85 girls a period story. I decided to mix it up and tell a story about falling off a horse. At Girls State I had the privilege of listening to some of the most inspirational speeches and I met some girls there who I now look up to. I made new friends who were totally cool to getting ready in the morning with the Newsboys playing. SCORE. The best part about the week was that I was able to capture most of the week’s events on a little camera and squeeze 76 videos into 3 minutes and play them to music. I got some weird looks walking around with a little green stick, but I once again received the nickname of “GoPro Girl” by the end of the week. (Refer to my last post named “Never Put Your Love Life In The Hands Of Your GoPro” for the backstory on this honorary nickname.) And lastly, a big SHOUTOUT to all the people who aren’t camera shy. Y’all are what makes video editing fun and easy, keep doin you.

A note to my fellow Girls Staters

I first want to thank you for reading this long blogpost, or skipping to the end to watch the video. Both are equally great, but props to you for reading the whole thing, I promise not all my posts are this long. Second, I want to thank you for giving me the ultimate experience at Girls State, whether it was ranting about the dresscode, or letting me shove a miniature camera in your face and having you awkwardly wave. I truly believe I was in the presence of Iowa’s finest Class of 2017 senior girls. Y’all showed me I am not the only one who stays up until 2 a.m. to finish homework or study to get the A on the test. 

Explanation of Song Choice

Some of you may have recognized the last two songs from morning meditation, but I wanted to include a snip it of Matthew West’s World Changers at the beginning because I believe the lyrics are so true for all of you. The beginning of the song goes as follows: 

In a world full of dirt, you’re a diamond

In a world full of hurt, you’re smiling

In the darkest dark, you’re shining

Shining like a shooting star

You live your life like you’re here on a mission

Yeah, you’re not afraid of being different

You hear the doubters, but you don’t listen

‘Cause you know who you are

Yeah, you know who you are

This is to all the world changers

Keep walking on, don’t you ever

Lose that fire in your soul

Lose that fire in your soul

This is to all the world changers

You know you are history makers

This world’s never gonna change you

You’re gonna change

You’re gonna change

The world (yeah)

The world

I truly believe that you all are not only leaders in your hometowns, but you all are going to become “World Changers.” You set the example, you are not afraid to speak up for what you believe in, “in the face of fear you’re fearless,” and I think these lyrics are spot on when they say “From the ends of the earth to your hometown To the lost, to the hurt, to the broke down You’re the arms wide open A love that’s showing every one of us the way now.” I hope you get as much from this song as I have.

Party in the USA. Everybody needs a little Miley in their life, and to the people that made the Party in the USA GS parody, I wish I could have recorded it, y’all killed it.

Oceans. When Hope sang this song on the last day, not gonna lie, I started to cry. It was so beautiful, and I had to include the song in the video. They wrote their own piano and clarinet parts for the performance, and that is one of the many talents that rose to the surface two weeks ago. 

Do any of y’all remember how stinking hard it was to keep your candle lit the last windy night around the flag pole? Remember how we had to keep lighting each other’s candles once someone’s around us had been blown out by the wind? I want to use those circumstances to relate to life. Every time someone or something blows out your candle, when you’re struggling and down in the dumps, lean on eachother. Use other people’s fire to relight your own candle. Use their encouragement, motivation, and strong candle flame to light your own. If you have the candle that doesn’t burn out, share your strength, experience, and positive mindset with those who need it. We are leaders, and we are the light in our generation. Shine yours bright. 

I hope y’all enjoy the video and this little note, thank you again. Love y’all. 

-Morgan (one of the 10 that were there) 

Never Put Your Love Life In The Hands Of Your GoPro

DISCLAIMER: This is a psycho fan girl story. The craziness has been worse, those stories are for another time, but for now, here is a recent Banana Peel of mine.

It was a Wednesday in early January, I had left school early in order to purchase concert tickets to two of the same shows-24 hours apart. It seemed like a good idea at the time, okay?

Flash forward four months later to the end of April. The wait was finally over, but I was REALLY regretting purchasing tickets for two concerts in a row. I was fatigued and packing and preparing for my trip was more stress than it was worth. I was to drive up separately with my friend and meet my mother and sister in Davenport. This was planned so they could go home that night and I could stay in Davenport and drive to Rockford the next morning. I don’t think I was in a logical state of mind when I bought the tickets- because I clearly overestimated my ability to accomplish anything without complications. Looking back, I think everything was worth it, but I still painfully remember returning home from Rockford at 4 a.m.

What’s up with this funky title? So a few months ago I bought a GoPro in an effort to painlessly document my very eventful life. (When I wrote this, I had been living out of my suitcase for four weekends straight if that proves my point.) But I think the GoPro had other ideas in mind. (It sat in my drafts for a few weeks while I contemplated posting such a revealing story.)

Appropriately, as any fan-girl would do, I had my camera (GoPro) in hand, ready to capture all the exciting moments-or at least I thought. It didn’t take long after the first act had started for my friend to point out the very attractive drummer. I agreed. As it turned out, he was actually the drummer for the second act. Ah what talent he had, playing with two different bands. *heart eye emoji* And before I knew it, my heart was beating to the beat of his drum. Just kidding… I continued to film and get cool clips of the crowd and the band performing. The next band played and it was now intermission. I was in the process of trying to figure out who was going to hold up some signs, for the last act, when I was approached by the attractive drummer. I’m telling you, it was as if God had read my mind. It was meant to be. My future husband. Right in front of me. Okay that’s a little exaggerate, but this kind of coincidence?! He actually just wanted to know if I had captured his brother’s fall, during their performance, on my GoPro. I had seen his brother (the guitarist) on the ground, but I had not seen him fall. I was probably staring at the drummer planning our future together when it happened.  Kidding. Kinda. Anyway, I told him I had seen his brother on the ground, but I would have to upload the GoPro footage to my computer to check if I had gotten it. I told him I would send it to him if I had captured the fall. Neither of us had our phones on us, but he conveniently pulled out a drumstick and a sharpie and scribbled out his Instagram username on the side of the stick. For a fan-girl this is big. We are basically talking digits here, people. I was pretty pumped, and I had already begun to pray that I had captured that fall.

After the show, I went to their table to get a selfie. They identified me as the GoPro Girl and I was honored with the tacky nickname. I mentioned that I would (conveniently) be in Rockford for the next show and would get back to them on the video situation. So we took a selfie together and I was satisfied with how fantastic the night had finished. (Selfie is pictured above, Future Husband is to the right) But was still praying that the stinking fall was on my tiny little memory card.

It was during the encore at the end of the last act’s (Newsboys’) performance, I was trying to get someone to video the signs with my GoPro, when I ran into the drummer hunk. He asked me if I had gotten the fall, but I hadn’t gotten a chance to look the night before, because the hard drive on my computer was full!! FAIL.

I finally got around to clearing up my hard drive two days after the concerts. And after going through each video clip at least five times, I had come to the conclusion that I had not captured the fall and to the conclusion that I was never ever going to get to talk to this beautiful human being ever again.

Now this banana peel was very much because of the fact that I’m a psycho fan girl with unrealistic expectations. So I blame myself. For putting my love life in the hands of my GoPro.

Student Senate 2016

For the past three years, I have ran for Vice President in our 2017 student senate election. My first year I had two other competitors, last year I had one, and this year I had none. Despite the fact that I was running unopposed, I had been planning what I wanted to say for my final speech for the past year. Our speeches were due four days before we had to give them, and I had been too busy to even start putting my thoughts on to paper. Typical. I ended up turning in my speech from last year with changed dates,  knowing we were allowed to “edit” our speeches, even after we turned them in. Fast forward 10:30 Thursday night (we were supposed to give our speeches on Friday) I scratched the traditional idea of a “speech”. I wanted to put my ideas from the past year together, but I wanted to make what I put together meaningful.
Some of the most influential things in my life are scripture, lyrics, rhymes, and quotes. I’m not completely sure where the idea came from, but my extremely tired, sensitive self decided to write a poem to read during the election. The next morning I was apprehensive about reading a poem versus the stereotypical “Dear Class of 2017” speech, just because I felt like it was out of place. But hey, it was too late to change anything, and I was determined to get it over with. Due to the fact that my body uncontrollably shakes while in front of a large crowd, I refrained from holding a microphone.
For those of you who have not already seen it, here is a copy of the poem. Like the post if you like or I would love to hear what you think of it! Let me know below in the comments section. 🙂


We’re gathered here
Waiting to hear
about our last year.

Our friends ahead of us are moving on.
Oh How fast these past three years
have come and gone.

It has been 12 years, altogether,
We have known the people sitting around us, for what seems like forever.

For the most part, we have obeyed the rules,
and somehow managed to arrive on time to school.
We have passed our classes
And used the annoying hallway and bathroom passes.
We have found new hobbies
And made new friends
How is there only one year left until
all ends?

They say we’ll get lazy
We won’t beat the bell
And if we take hard classes, senioritis will make our senior year… Not very much fun.

But it’s not just high school
Where the classes seem hard
There is a whole world out there
Where Life deals the cards

It’s not JUST a high school
Looking back…
It will be the place where you found YOUR place
It will be the school colors you will always remember
It will be the basketball student sections
Every December.

High school boils down to three things:
A cap, a gown, a college.
Will we let these be the only representations of our knowledge?

Now I don’t mean to hate, all those things are great, but they are not what high school is REALLY about

It’s about
Falling and getting back up
finding ourselves and Finding our way
So that we can make the difference in our world some day

This is not JUST high school.
We have one year left to make a difference
We decide how to make the best of this experience.