Something There

After quitting taekwondo my freshman year into high school, I was able to become involved with extracurricular activities. I have always had a knack for acting and singing. Having this passion, I pursued high school plays and musicals my junior and senior year. Junior year musical was 1776. I was disappointed with the selection. Not a huge US History fanatic. But the play grew on me, it kind of had to. I was casted as the masculine courier. My role required me to learn a solo, the song being “Momma Look Sharp”. Yes I played a man. It was a challenge, getting the accent and stride right. I was proud of my inner acting skills to execute a believable character. It was a true acting experience.

After my breakthrough performance, my pride sort of went to my head. The next year, Beauty and the Beast was released as the upcoming spring musical. My heart was set on becoming Belle. I thought I had it in the bag. I rehearsed my song and dialogue for auditions. I sang in the shower and annoyed my family with dancing around the kitchen island, pretending I was a classic Disney princess. What girl doesn’t ever do this? Of course, there was competition. I knew this other girl was going to audition for the same character. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t just me and this other girl. Many girls wanted to be Belle. But I knew this girl hard killer pipes.

I auditioned. I sang my heart out. I acted as emotional and believable as I could. And then I had to wait for the casting. Lo and behold I was not Belle. I was casted as Babette. Who the hell is Babette? I actually did know who she was. Babette, this saucy French feather duster. I wanted to throw up. I loathed the role of Babette. I wanted to quit the play all together. If I wasn’t Belle, I wasn’t going to be anyone. I was supposed to be the humble Beauty. I rarely whine like this. This was something I had dreamed of achieving. My mother became so frustrated with my complaining. She insisted that I stay in the musical, taking on the feather duster. I complied and agreed I was being overly dramatic. I should have been grateful for even getting a part in the play. So I got my big girl pants on and got over it.

Later on in the rehearsals, the director proposed that a young boy should try out for the Shepherd Boy/Dust Pan. I knew my little brother would love the opportunity, so I referred him to the director. My little brother, eleven years old in fifth grade, auditioned and ended up landing the role. I made a lot of memories with my little brother. Performing on stage with my brother, knowing he was having a blast, made me feel like I had gotten the best role in the play. I will never forget the laughs and fun memories I got to share with him. Ending my high school career, doing what I love to do, sharing the stage with my little brother. I couldn’t have asked for anything more. 

Supah Fly Ninja

Becoming a ninja is probably the most accomplished goal I can think of. A ninja doesn’t just know how to roundhouse kick or break some boards using a knife hand. A ninja develops discipline, self-control, integrity, and also techniques. My ninja qualifications can be proved through my black belt in taekwondo.

I earned my black belt at the age of 12. This sounds impressive, but considering that I started taekwondo at the age of 5 and went to class twice a week kind of explains my youthful accomplishment. I started as a little ninja. Literally.  Little Ninjas was the name of my class. My dojo was located at Seung Ni. My mother enrolled me and my older brother in little ninjas as soon as we arrived to the States. Being adopted from Russia, I learned how to front kick before I learned how to speak English. The more I learned about taekwondo, the more I fell in love. I looked forward to the two days of the week that allowed me to kick, punch, and do inner power yells known as a “Kiyap”. The owner of Sueng-Ni was my master, a.k.a. Master Gary. He encouraged me to give 110% effort into the techniques taught at the dojo. Since we were very committed to our weekly lessons, it didn’t take long for me and my brother to rise in the belt levels.

The black belt test is the hardest test of all the belts, obviously. Black belt camp was mandatory to do in order to test for a black belt. Black belt camp was the devil. We had to condition, spare, run, and do other vigorous activities every weekend at Seung Ni. I wasn’t really in favor of the sparing aspect. I was a 12 year old girl that had to go against other students raging from teens to adults. It’s a good thing they teach self-control because my opponents could have done some serious damage.

When it came to test day, I was so ready. The test involved doing forms which are basically memorized movements, but with perfected techniques. I was the queen of forms. I knew exactly where my low block had to be placed, and where my feet would have to be positioned. One wrong angle of your foot and the stance could be a “back stance” instead of a “cat stance”. I drilled forms every week, so the forms became muscle memory. Not a problem for me. Breaking four wooden boards with a flying side kick, slight problem. I was nervous when Master Gary called my name to break the boards. Petrified. My heart jumped and the pounding in my temples would not stop. I had a killer flying side kick, but using it to break the boards was a different story. There was a barrier I had to get through.

So I stood in front of the boards from a distance. Master Gary stood there, holding the boards, bracing himself for the impact. Don’t stutter when running. Tuck in your leg when jumping. Hit the center. Don’t hold back. I kiyapped with all my might, ran with agility, jumped at the perfect distance, tucked and extended my leg. I felt the strength of my momentum against the boards.

I didn’t break them.

I didn’t break the stupid boards. They just laid on the floor, unbroken. Master Gary allowed me to try again, but I never broke the boards. I was commanded to sit back down. Why tears didn’t flood, I don’t know. My pride was torn down by those stupid wooden boards. Master Gary showed mercy. He said the students that did not break the boards would be given another chance. So once again I would have to face my fear. The next weekend there was a chance to redeem my failure. So here I was again. I had to try again and again that weekend. I failed every single time. I was beyond frustration. 

After the third week since the test, I was at Seung Ni, attempting to break the boards. Finally, Master Gary said that if I don’t break the boards with in the next three attempts, I wasn’t going to pass. Anxiety rushed into my chest. The first attempt was a failure. I remember looking at my mom when walking back to the position, she mouthed the words “just do it”. I ran so fast. It had felt like I was actually flying in the air. After I struck the boards, I fumbled down on the ground. I knew I broke the boards because I could feel my body gliding slightly longer. I had heard the snapping of the wood. I was filled with joy. I started running towards my mom with tears and the biggest smile on my face. Thinking about my determination that day still gives me chills. That moment was the most accomplished I have ever felt. My dream to become a supah fly ninja became reality. 

The Method to My Madness

The reason I chose this topic is to create a list of my goals. These goals will include goals from the past, whether I have achieved them or not. If I always achieved my goals, I think I wouldn’t be the person I am today. I like to think that I have learned from my mistakes, failures, and disappointments. My Uncle Chris once said to me, it’s not the hardships you face that make you who you are, it’s how you deal with them (or something like that). This blog will explain how I have fallen and then gotten back up. How I have quit and have been irritably stubborn dealing with my unaccomplished dreams will also be mentioned.

The Dream Atlas will also include my wishes for the future. Making your dreams into reality is the ultimate goal for any person, right? For instance, having the guts to face your crush, making the first move. Acing a test in that certain class you struggle with. Learning how to ride your first bike. I realize these are such minute dreams, but these small accomplishments matter. If we never accomplished the small things, we wouldn’t know the reward. The reward being the truest feeling of happiness, of course. Did you think I was going to mention flashy things like the Pulitzer Prize, Olympic medals, and Grammy awards? Let’s take a reality check here and not get carried away. I think happiness is the greatest prize there can be. Doing what you love to do every day with one goal at a time is a gold medal in my eyes.

So why chose to write about my goals? I have given the description of what this blog will contain, but I haven’t really explained why it matters to me and may matter to the readers out there. For my own selfish desires, I thought it would be a neat way to organize my past achievements and future aspirations. I’m hoping it may also be therapeutically helpful to force my mind to think about what makes me, me. Hopefully I figure out some positive lessons along the way. To my fellow blog readers, I hope that The Dream Atlas will spark motivation to make your dreams reality. Reading this blog, getting off the couch, and turning the track “Eye of the Tiger” on are just a few steps to a happy life.