7th Grade Life List: 22. See the Harlem Globetrotters

In 7th grade, I made a list of 60 goals I wanted to achieve in my life. Some were big (Win an Oscar, a Tony, and a Grammy) and some not so big (Read Gone with the Wind). After having a fabulous experience checking one SUPER item off, I decided to keep at it and achieve as many of my 7th grade goals as possible.

22. See the Harlem Globetrotters.

There are exactly three entries on my 7th Grade Life List that have anything to do with sports. 

See the Harlem Globetrotters. Be able to do a back handspring. Learn to play golf and tennis.

Needless to say, sports have never been a big part of my life. I played t-ball. I was a middle school cheerleader but that's about it. I did have a lot of fun as a child going to San Francisco Giants and Seattle Seahawks games with my dad but it never translated into a longterm love for the game.

So, it's not surprising that the one sporting event on the list is a little less sports and a lot more entertainment. For any of you who don't know, the Harlem Globetrotters are an exhibition basketball team that combine athleticism, comedy, and plain old shenanigans for a whole lot of fun.  

I reached out to the team when I heard they were coming to our area and told them all about my list. They were incredibly generous and gave us four tickets to a game at SIU Arena in Carbondale AND invited us to a pre-game meet and greet.

We met the shortest Harlem Globetrotter in history whose name is (obviously) Too Tall and brand new player Rocket. Both players were so kind and generous with the boys and clearly very excited to be on the Globetrotter team.

The pre-game entertainment also included lots of dancing and silliness from the Globetrotters' mascot Globie - a HUGE hit with the under 10 set. The game itself was a match off between the Globetrotters and their infamous rivals the Washington Generals. 

I'm sure I would have had fun no matter when I crossed this particular item off the list. However, attending a Globetrotter game with my two young sons was a blast. Silliness and shenanigans are basically the summit of all humor when you're 5 and 3 so Griffin and Amos were thoroughly entertained from beginning to end. 

Griffin was totally swept up into the game and burst into tears when it looked like the Washington Generals might win. Luckily, the Harlem Globetrotters pulled out a win during overtime and there was some major celebrating among the Holland family.

I think Griffin best summed it up on the way home...

"The Globetrotters are definitely a special team."

Thank you to the Harlem Globetrotters for sponsoring this post. Check out their event schedule here and get in on the fun with your own family!

7th Grade Life List: The Unchecked Items

In 7th grade, I made a list of 64 goals I wanted to achieve in my life. Some were big (Win an Oscar, a Tony, and a Grammy) and some not so big (Read Gone with the Wind). After having a fabulous experience checking one SUPER item off, I decided to keep at it and achieve as many of my 7th grade goals as possible.

I’ve had a lot of fun checking items off my 7th Grade Life List. Ok, maybe reading The Autobiography of Malcolm X wasn’t FUN, but it was enlightening. And while I still have plans to mark some more off the list (I’m coming for you Harlem Globetrotters!), I think it’s time to face a basic fact.

Some items will go unchecked.

Some are impossible. I am never going to sing with Whitney Houston (#2). Sure, I could game the system and just sing with someone named Whitney Houston but that’s not the point. My 7th Grade Self who unapologetically sang "I Will Always Love You" on the bus ride home wanted to sing with THE Whitney and tragically she is gone forever.

I’m never going to be on People Magazine’s 50 Most Beautiful AND Intriguing List (#17). First off, they don’t even put out the Most Intriguing People list anymore. I suppose the Most Beautiful is still achievable but not sure there’s much I can do to actively achieve that one. I think I’ll settle for being on my husband’s most beautiful list instead.

I’ve also missed my chance to be a Merit Scholar (#61).

However, other items – while technically possible – are just not going to happen.

While I’m willing to entertain a scenario in which I record the most amazing audiobook and win a Grammy or participate in a documentary that wins an Oscar, I am never going to win a Tony (#1). Is participating in a Market House Theatre production on my list of things to try? Definitely! But I’m never going to move to New York City and make it on Broadway.

I’m also never going to walk on a Paris runway (#12). A runway model I am not … and never will be. It’s just that simple.

I am never going to sing at the Hollywood Bowl (#49) or have my own star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame (#51). I will never have a gold album (#58) or host the Oscars (#64).

And you know what? I’m fine with that.

Those items reflect the dreams of a little girl who thought the actors and actresses she idolized lived the best possible version of life. Like many 7th graders before and since, I believed that fame and accolades made you happy.

I don’t remember the exact moment I realized that a career in the entertainment industry wasn’t for me. I do remember realizing in high school that I did not enjoy acting like someone else – that what I most enjoyed was being fully and completely myself. I also remember realizing that what I most admired (and envied) about actors and actresses wasn’t their long hours on a sound stage or complete loss of privacy, but rather their influence.

They spoke and people listened and THAT was something I could get behind. It just took a very long time to realize there was another way besides the casting couch.

Don’t get me wrong. I still LOVE all things pop culture. I love great writing and acting and storytelling. If Lena Dunham was to call and ask me to come hold a boom mike on Girls, I would abandon my family in a hot minute (kidding… sort of). However, I have no real desire to participate. The role of spectator suits me just fine.

One of my favorite truths is “You can do anything you want. You just can’t do everything you want.”

It is a fundamental truth of adulthood. 7th Grade Sarah wanted to be famous. However, as I grew up, there were other things I wanted more. I wanted to spend time with my friends instead of at auditions. I wanted to go to Transy. I wanted to marry Nicholas. I wanted to move to D.C. I wanted to have children.

After all, I wouldn’t trade Amos for an Emmy. I wouldn’t give up walking the streets of Paducah in fall for a Paris runway. I wouldn’t miss Sunday night dinners with my parents and grandmother to have a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

In the end, I like to think 7th Grade Sarah would agree.

What childhood dreams have you abandoned willingly?

7th Grade Life List: Read Malcolm X

In 7th grade, I made a list of 60 goals I wanted to achieve in my life. Some were big (Win an Oscar, a Tony, and a Grammy) and some not so big (Read Gone with the Wind). After having a fabulous experience checking one SUPER item off, I decided to keep at it and achieve as many of my 7th grade goals as possible.

16. Read Malcolm X.

I have no idea why 7th Grade Sarah decided that she needed to read The Autobiography of Malcolm X. The Spike Lee biopic had come out in 1992 and perhaps I wanted to learn more about this incendiary figure.

Either way I'm glad she did.

The Autobiography of Malcolm X begins at the beginning and tells the story of parents beaten down by a racist society. By the time Malcolm Little reaches middle school, his father is dead after a violent attack by the KKK and his mother has been committed to a mental hospital. Despite excelling at school, Malcolm's dreams of becoming an attorney are dashed when a teacher dismisses the idea of a black man ever holding such a role. 

Passed around within his hometown of Omaha, Malcolm eventually moves to Boston where he lives with his half-sister Ella. During his time in Boston, Malcolm becomes a street hustler and eventually moves to Harlem where he fully adopts a life of crime. His description of that life was truly fascinating. He argues that so many that live that life because they have few options and less hope.

It's not a new position but to read someone's firsthand account of that life is illuminating in a way no societal study can be.

“The ghetto hustler is internally restrained by nothing. He has no religion, no concept of morality, no civic responsibility, no fear—nothing. To survive, he is out there constantly preying upon others, probing for any human weakness like a ferret. The ghetto hustler is forever frustrated, restless, and anxious for some ‘action’. ”

— Malcolm X

He is eventually sent to prison for burglary, where he converts to the teachings of Elijah Muhammad. Once Malcolm is released from prison, he officially adopts the name Malcolm X to symbolize his lost ancestry and becomes a minister for the Nation of Islam. Over several years, he transforms the church from a few communities of less than a 100 to 1,000s of converts across the United States.

I'm not going to lie. This part of the book was difficult to read. There are only so many times that someone can hear themselves and their race described as "the white devil" before it starts to wear on the psyche. However, for the same reason it was difficult for me as a white person to hear, I understand the appeal of this message to the black community and why Malcolm X was able to convert so many. His words are powerful and emotional and unapologetically incendiary.

One incident in particular stood out to me. 

“I never will forget one little blonde co-ed after I had spoken at her New England college. She must have caught the next plane behind that one I took to New York. She found the Muslim restaurant in Harlem. I just happened to be there when she came in. Her clothes, her carriage, her accent, all showed Deep South white breeding and money. ...
Anyway, I’d never seen anyone I ever spoke before more affected than this little white college girl. She demanded right up in my face, “Don’t you believe there are any good white people?” I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. I told her, “People’s deeds I believe in, Miss — not their words.”
”What can I do?” she exclaimed. I told her, “Nothing.” She burst out crying, and ran out and up Lenox Avenue and caught a taxi.”

— Malcolm X

I'd like to believe I would be as affected as the "little blond co-ed" Malcolm X describes meeting. Reading his description, it felt like all of a sudden someone I understood - someone I could identify with - showed up in a story that was completely foreign. She was saying what I had been arguing in my head the entire time. Surely, not ALL white people were the devil!

And while sympathetic to the experiences that led him there, the abruptness of his reaction stunned me. 

The beautiful part of Malcolm X's story is that this experience apparently affected him even more. He never forgot the "little blonde co-ed." Eventually, Malcolm X left the Nation of Islam and adopted a more tolerant view of other races. Several years after his conversion, Malcolm X was betrayed by members of the Nation of Islam and leaves the church in 1963. He makes several journeys to Africa and the Middle East, including a pilgrimage to Mecca. 

These journeys are instrumental in changing his opinion of the white race and race in general. In 1964, he writes his "Letter from Mecca" praising the religion of Islam as the path to racial harmony. 

“We were truly all the same (brothers)—because their belief in one God had removed the white from their minds, the white from their behavior, and the white from their attitude.”

— Malcolm X

He even began to regret his interaction with the "little blonde coed."

“I regret that I told her she could do ‘nothing.’ I wish now that I knew her name, or where I could telephone her, and tell her what I tell white people now when they present themselves as being sincere, and ask me, one way or another, the same thing that she asked.”

— Malcolm X

Sadly, Malcolm X never got to pursue his dreams of racial harmony through the spread of Islam. He never got to lead his organization, The Organization for Afro-American Unity. He never got to see his SIX daughters grow up. He never even got to see the birth of his twin daughters. 

On February 21, 1965, he was gunned down in front of his family as he began addressing his organization. 

After finishing his life story, I was struck not only by the tragic ending of a young life but by the wasted opportunity of a passionate intellect denied access to resources and education. Malcolm X did so much with the little that Malcolm Little was given, he himself wonders what would have become of him if he'd been allowed to attend college or pursue his dream of becoming an attorney. 

However, it wasn't until I read the epilogue by Ossie Davis that I truly understood what made Malcolm X special - something no amount of education would have changed. No one in their right mind would claim that we live in a post-racial society. Racism still exists and it's impact is felt far and wide everyday.

And yet somethings have changed. We have strong black role models - including the President of the United States - who speak their mind and speak it truthfully. It's not always easy and it's always with consequence but those voices are there. From Kanye West proclaiming "George Bush doesn't care about black people." to Attorney General Eric Holder stating plainly that issues of race are far from solved, no one is waiting around politely for white people to dole out the crumbs of justice.

What I constantly have to remind myself is that was not always the case. Malcolm X lived during a time when telling the truth about race could (and did) get people killed.

“Protocol and common sense require that Negroes stand back and let the white man speak up for us, defend us, and lead us from behind the scene in our fight. This is the essence of Negro politics. But Malcolm said to hell with that! Get up off your knees and fight your own battles. That’s the way to win back your self-respect. That’s the way to make the white man respect you. And if he won’t let you live like a man, he certainly can’t keep you from dying like one!

Malcolm, as you can see, was refreshing excitement; he scared hell out of the rest of us, bred as we are to caution, to hypocrisy in the presence of white folks, to the smile that never fades. Malcolm knew that every white man in America profits directly or indirectly from his position vis-à-vis Negroes, profits from racism even though he does not practice it or believe in it.”

— Ossie Davis

His words are still incendiary today. Can you even imagine how they sounded in 1960!?! And yet he said them. He said them loudly and unapologetically and this didn't just make him special, this made him a one man revolution.

Have you read The Autobiography of Malcolm X? What did you think?

How I learned to love my pale skin

I don’t remember when being pale wasn’t a problem. 

When I was younger, the threat of sunburn was forever hanging over my head. My mother was always coaxing me out of the pool for more sunscreen or - even worse - making me wear a t-shirt over my bathing suit. 

As I grew up, it wasn’t only that being pale was a problem but NOT being tan was a curse.

I remember a close friend in middle school excitedly reporting that my #1 crush might consider going out with me if I got a tan. The truly excruciating aspect was my reaction was one of excitement as well. It seemed doable. If I worked hard enough, surely even I could get a tan!

I’m assuming this experience, along with being surrounded by deeply tanned friends, is what led my 7th grade self to add “Get a dark tan” to her list of life goals. It is also what led me to try in vain all through high school to achieve that goal.

My best friend and I would lay out on my black asphalt driveway every afternoon. She would slather on baby oil and turn a deep dark brown after a few days. I would push the limits with 5 SPF tanning oil and check my swimsuit line day after day only to see the slightest change in pigment.

My mother (very wisely) threatened to take my car keys away from me should I ever so much as cross the threshold of a tanning salon. I still snuck two visits in during journalism camp (sorry, Mom!) where I spent my hard-earned money on 5 minute sessions - the max the owner recommended for me. I left the salon poorer, hotter, but no tanner.

It wasn’t until I got to college that my opinion of my skin began to change.  

Suddenly, I wasn’t the lone pale girl in a sea of tans. I had lots of friends with lots of different complexions and lots of concerns far beyond getting and keeping a tan. I’m sure there were girls I went to college with who went to the tanning bed but I don’t remember hearing them talk about it. The pursuit of the almighty tan just didn’t seem to be on anyone’s radar. 

My skin stopped begin a problem. 

Well, not completely. I still had to avoid sunburns and still for many years I tried to achieve “a little bit of color.” Tanning beds became passé, but self-tans and spray tans presented a seemingly acceptable alternative. After all, peers are influential but overcoming the steady beat of a beauty industry that tells you pale skin isn’t beautiful doesn't come easy.

Slowly a combination of age, maturity, and plain old laziness has produced my current state of acceptance. I love my pale skin and I could give two shits about a tan. I don’t even see it as a “problem” anymore thanks to my new favorite product OF ALL TIME - the rash guard. This little thing has CHANGED. MY. LIFE. Do you have any idea how much mental energy (not to mention money) I spent every summer trying not to get burned?

A SHIT TON.

Then, I met this wonderful woman at the lake one summer (wish I remembered your name special lady who changed my life!!!) who had on super-adorable rash guard from Athleta. She told me and my equally pale mother how much she loved it and suddenly it clicked!

I put my kids in this magical SPF clothing why didn’t I get one for myself!

Game. Changer. Now, I throw that baby on and go. If I’m out of the water, I sit in the shade or cover my legs with a towel. I also always wear a hat. And I am never, ever embarrassed. 

In fact, I’ve become a bit of a disciple about accepting the skin you’re in. I’ll never forget reading a fabulous post on Jezebel last year about tans entitled Tanning Is a Young, White, Female Problem. And It's Deadly. In particular, I was struck at the way the author’s criticism extended beyond the dangers of tanning to the idea that we all had to be tan.

“Where did we get this idea that fair skin is embarrassing, unflattering or a flaw in need of fixing by desperate means? By “desperate means,” we’re referring to baking in an indoor cancer coffin (a.k.a. tanning bed), lying unclothed in the blinding sun on a lava-hot lawn chair/trampoline/beach (a.k.a, sun bathing), paying good money to get hosed down with orangey-brown skin dye that sheds off in patches within 5-10 days (a.k.a. spray tanning), or slathering yourself in smelly orangey-brown solutions at home twice a day for two weeks while not touching any fabric or light walls for an hour because you will leave a distinctly “sun-kissed” look on everything (a.k.a. self-tanners).

I know what you’re thinking. “No one uses those sun reflectors anymore!” (And I hope you’re right.) And also, “You’ve obviously never tried [insert favorite brand] tanning lotion/spray/skin suit! Pasty skin problems solved!” But that’s all beside the point. The point is that tan skin is a manufactured beauty ideal, and people are literally paying for it with their lives, or at least with huge areas of skin and debilitating treatments.”

And she’s right! The beauty industry is making billions of dollars a year because they have convinced us our skin isn’t beautiful JUST THE WAY IT IS.

And that is Grade A bullshit. 

Thankfully, people seem to be coming around. The Atlantic recently published a piece entitled, The End of Tanning? Tanning beds are thankfully becoming a thing of the past but also the proliferation of pale skinned celebrities who embrace their hues seems to indicate a shifting beauty idea as well.

And I sure as hell hope so. Women have real problems - equal pay, work/life balance, lack of political representation, how to make Amy Poehler our best friend (wait, is that just me?) - BUT being pale is not one of them. 

Are you pale or naturally tan? Do you feel pressure to change the skin you're in?

P.S. Why how we view women's bodies matters and the importance of embracing our post-baby bodies.

7th Grade Life List: 36. Have my hair in braids

In 7th grade, I made a list of 60 goals I wanted to achieve in my life. Some were big (Win an Oscar, a Tony, and a Grammy) and some not so big (Read Gone with the Wind). After having a fabulous experience checking one SUPER item off, I decided to keep at it and achieve as many of my 7th grade goals as possible.

36. Have my hair in braids. 

I have no idea where this one came from. I don't remember obsessing about braids or thinking one particular celebrity looked amazing in braids. 

Either way, it was on the list and it seemed like an easy one to check off.

First off, NOT easy. Having my entire head of hair braided took TWO hours and my dear sweet generous friend Julie who did the actual braiding was having hand cramps by the end. Also, having tiny sections of your hair pulled tightly into a braid isn't exactly pleasant - a sensation that sticks around long after the actual braiding is complete. 

Still, 7th grade Sarah wanted braids so braids it was. 

Behold.

I came home and Nicholas couldn't stop laughing. I sent the pictures to a couple of friends over text message and I thought they were going to have a come apart. Even though Amos told me I looked "VERY PRETTY," I acknowledge that braids might not be the best look for me. 

First of all, I'm not quite sure my scalp is ready for a starring role. Second of all, I need something to frame my face. I've always wanted to shave my head and now I know why I shouldn't - my head.

Still, it was a fascinating experience to change my looks so dramatically - even if it was temporary. All of us, particularly women, take our looks so dang seriously. Sometimes it takes something as silly as braids to help you remember - IT'S JUST HAIR.

More than one person said to me, "Oh, I could NEVER do that." I heard that a lot when my mother cut off her hair and went gray. "Oh, I could NEVER go gray." I heard it when I got bangs. I hear it often about my red lipstick. I heard when I gave up pedicures. 

It bugs me. 

In other news, I loved my after-braid look.

Mainly, it bothers me because it's not true. No matter who you are or where you live I PROMISE you COULD change your appearance in the most dramatic ways and live to tell the tale. If someone was holding a gun to your head, you could go gray, have bangs, or wear red lipstick. If the apocalypse came tomorrow, I doubt you'd be wondering whether or not you could survive without mascara. You just would. 

There is a $170 BILLION industry that wants to convince you changing the way you look (or GASP! not caring about how you look at all) is a mountain too big to climb. 

But guess what? They're wrong. 

Plus, think about the message we are sending to little girls when we talk that way in front of them - how we look must be really important if we could NEVER change it. When we act like how we look is that important, they really have no choice but to believe that how they look is very important too.

Look, I'm not saying how one looks is unimportant. For better or for worse, how we look affects other's perception of us and can be a personal source of confidence, identity, and even fun.

I'm just saying maybe we don't need to take it all so SERIOUSLY.

If cornrows can't teach you that, nothing can. 

7th Grade Life List: 14. Meet Dean Cain

In 7th Grade, one of my teachers had a set of self-improvement books in her class. The teacher was Mrs. Shelton. The books were on the bottom shelf. I remember devouring every one. I don't remember what the books were called or much of what was contained within the pages. I do remember the author emphasizing the importance of goals and recommending writing down every thing you wanted to accomplish in your life.

So, I did. I made a list of 60 items ranging from "Deliver a baby" to "Win an Oscar, Tony, and Grammy" and for 21 years I've kept that list.

Let me tell you. Seventh grade Sarah dreamed BIG.

Seventh grade Sarah also watched A LOT of Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman. Every Sunday night my parents and I would order a pizza and settle in to watch the newest exploits of the Man of Steel. I loved that show and I L-O-V-E-D the star of the show - Superman himself - Dean Cain.

He was smart. (He went to Princeton!) He seemed so sweet and kind. Oh, he was (is!) also smoking hot. 

Hence, #14 on the list. 

Meet Dean Cain.

Definitely had this poster on my wall. 

I'm not sure at the time if I thought about the proximity of Superman's hometown of Metropolis, IL, to my hometown of Paducah, KY. Just a short 15 minutes drive over the bridge, the small town of Metropolis hosts an annual Superman Celebration.

I'm sure at 12 years old I thought Dean Cain and I would meet during our future shared professional endeavors. (For example, #17 Be on the 50 Most Beautiful List AND Most Intriguing). However, since becoming an adult and realizing a successful acting career was not in the cards, I've often thought the celebration might just be my ticket to meeting my childhood crush.

Every year since moving home I've checked the roster of visiting Superman stars and every year I've been disappointed.

Until this year. 

The 2014 Superman Celebration's featured guest was none other than Mr. Dean Cain!

June 14th. I had a date with destiny.

First hurdle? I needed a ticket for one of the four autograph sessions with Dean Cain held throughout the day. The tickets were being passed out at 7 AM, which is when I needed to be heading to the 5K for which I had been training for 5 weeks. LUCKILY, I married the most wonderful man in the entire world who woke up at FIVE AM to get in line and get me a ticket. 

He called me right before the race and said I'd be meeting Dean Cain at 10 am.

In my excitement, I shaved a minute and a half off my running time. 

After the race, I ran home and got all dolled up to meet my superhero. A little after 10 am I joined a long line of fans. A small emergency was quickly averted when I found out I needed cash to pay the $40 for a photograph with Dean with a VERY quick trip to the ATM across town.

Back in line I chatted with anyone who would listen about my list. One girl questioned the authenticity until I pointed out #13 "Wear Armoni, Valentino." The misspelling convinced her. 

Finally, it was my turn.

To be honest, I expected a small chuckle over the list and quick picture. Instead, Dean Cain was total freaking charmer. He laughed at the idea of my 7th grade life list and seemed genuinely STOKED to be included. After I showed him the list, he swept me up in the biggest most wonderful bear hug.

Then, I died and went to heaven. 

Seriously, I was excited about the entire experience from the beginning but his incredibly warm and embracing reaction took what could have been a fun moment to a completely unforgettable one. 

Of course, I also have to give a SERIOUS shoutout to the staff member snapping shots the entire time. I seriously thought my $40 got me one photo - not an entire documentation of the experience! I didn't get the guy's name because I was too busy squealing with glee and cartwheeling out of the room but THANK YOU WHOEVER YOU WERE!

After the final shot, as I was about to walk away, Dean Cain looks at me and says, "Wait! Are you going to mark it off? I want to mark it off!"

Then, he took my list, marked off #14, and signed it "Love, Dean Cain."

Look, I love celebrities. I always have and I've met my fair share in my time. Some were kind. Some were rude. However, no matter how much I loved the celebrity I almost always leave the interaction a little bit disappointed. Maybe I wish I'd said more or had more time, but I always leave feeling like the star had been a bit tarnished.

Not this time.

There was absolutely nothing about meeting Dean Cain that was disappointing. For a small moment, my 32-year-old self - the self weighed down with kids and career and responsibility - got to be a giddy 12-year-old girl again - a girl standing next to the guy she thought was the hottest guy in the whole world. And unlike most of the guys I interacted with when I was in 7th grade, this guy was sweet and kind and everything I dreamed he could be.

It was perfect and it's got me thinking that my 7th Grade Life List maybe has more adventures to offer.

What do we think I should tackle next? Tell me what would have been on you YOUR 7th Grade Life List!