“Do you like basketball?” she whispered shyly.
Her nearby friends listened intently. I saw their eyes on us. She noticed their eyes on us too. Our eyes met.
“Yes, I do,” I said, flashing a big smile to ease her anxiety of speaking with someone to whom she was recently introduced. All of her friends heard. Before they could rush over with excitement, I leaned in and said, “Where’s your paper so I could sign my name.”
I was quickly bombarded with elementary school children as they pushed their papers and colorful pens and pencils in front of me, all calmoring for my signature, all wanting me to fill out their bingo box marked, “I like to play basketball.” The life of a superstar. Well, the life of a participant in Human Bingo. If you haven’t played human bingo then you have never experienced a cool ice breaker, designed to help you learn fun facts about people you do not know. Multiply its fun by a trillion when you include small, excited children.
Since a young child, people have always asked, “What do you like to do?” My answer to the question, as far back as I can remember, has always been the same: I like to read, write, and play basketball. True, over time other hobbies have snuck their way into that answer. My favorites include: I like to play the trumpet. I cook. I act. I model (that one time in college, check the picture at the end of this post for proof). Regardless of those momentary hobbies, those three, read, write, and play basketball, have always and will more than likely continue to reign supreme.
So when the organizer asked me via email, “What do I like to do?” I quickly began to type my automated response. But my eyes shifted to the left when I hit the send button. Fans of Lie to Me know what that means. I lied.
My answer was true, but not completely true and my body responded to that slight bending. When was the last time I wrote, I thought to myself, feeling uneasy with my email response that I was unable to ‘unsend.’ Let’s not talk about how I neglect my journal. So, the last time I wrote publicly was this July. I sent that post to a few friends of mine, and each encouraged me to start my own blog.
I’m not good enough.
Who would want to read my writings?
My life is boring and uninteresting.
Those debilitating voices dominated my thoughts and I did not start a blog. That inkling to write and share was defeated. This past weekend, while at a teacher conference, the concept of blogging to help students improve their writing was constant and loud.
Ok, I lied again. Stupid eye shift.
Truthfully, it was only mentioned once, but to me all the presenters sounded like a cousin to Charlie Brown’s teacher: “blog, blog, blog, blog, blog.”
As a result, early one morning in my hotel room, 1610, I leaped.
I created this blog.