Kerry On the Spot

OK, you got me. The above statement is not entirely true.

What now?! 

Alright. The statement my chosen title makes is a gross misrepresentation, but can’t a girl dream?

This post is the long, winding story of my sixteenth birthday… my Sweet Sixteen. This is the story of a young, hormonal teen who did not get to attend her 16th birthday party. 

Why have I chosen to talk about this now? I am sharing this story now because in 1-ish weeks I will be turning 36. For those of you who cannot read between the lines - this year is the Twentieth Anniversary of my Sixteenth Birthday. I have lived to tell, I have lived to tell…

I attended a small Christian high school. Read: no dancing. Read further: an environment almost exactly like Kevin Bacon’s character in Footloose! And in case you didn’t know… I am a huge fan of dancing… It has been a passion ever since I would blast the tunes of “My First Disco Album” in my backyard - on the record player and I practiced hot moves for the day Solid Gold might call and beg me to be one of their dancers. Um. I was like, 8.

I danced in my backyard A LOT. A-friggin-lot. You have no idea. I would dance behind the bed sheets my mom would hang out to dry. I thought no one could see me, so I would just cut loose. I’m sure my parents watched their chubby little girl out the window - just like I watch my kids when they aren’t looking…

I remember strapping on my roller skates and making routines to Toni Basil’s Mickey and Shoppin’ from A to Z (one of her lesser known songs, but I still think it’s the awesomest song - I wish I could find it. I wore the living heck out of that cassette tape). I also loved making routines with my baton… or pom-poms… Regardless of the props, one of my biggest childhood memories is of me bustin’ a move… making dance routines - in and out of roller skates. Yeah, I pretty much rocked the roller skates.

In third grade a group of 5 other girls and I made a routine to Mickey and performed it for the town and school talent show. Oh, being on stage… I was so scared, but I felt sooooooo alive… Guess what? I still know most of the routine. But I can’t tell you what year it was that Columbus sailed the ocean blue. Priorities, people.

A few years passed and before I knew it high school was upon me. My school never had dances, but the public school did. All my childhood years of rehearsing the hottest “Solid Gold Dancer” moves were wasted. I joined in with the mindless pack of girls and danced in a mobby circle while the boys never asked anyone to dance asked other girls to dance.

I joined the cheer team my freshman year in high school. Though we were not allowed to “dance” at my school, the cheerleaders were allowed to perform “routines”. Ahhh… finally. My moment. Did I mention I went to a small school? I had 2 seasons of cheering/routining before there weren’t enough boys at school to have a football team (to cheer for).

In college I went “academic” and passed on extra-curricular things — such as cheering, or any sports. Except for the 5 or 6 month period I was on a country line-dance exhibition team, but that was a summer-fling, if you will. I did go to 18 and over clubs and would dance off-campus (Baptist college), but I was insecure and never let myself fully bust a move. I wanted to be a cool chick at the club… kinda dancin’, but mostly lookin’ cool. I know now, that kind of behavior is stupid. 

Backing up… when the Sweet 16 rolled around, my parents stepped out of their comfort zone and allowed a dance party for me - along with my girlfriend Julia whose birthday was one week before mine. The rules were: 1) no slow dancing, and 2) no dim lighting. Agreed AAAAAND agreed. Deal!

Julia and I met a few days before our bash to finalize the details. That was the night the earth shifted the angle of it’s axis and my world was turned upside down. My daddy called, “Jenny, I have something to tell you…” I don’t remember his exact delivery, but, dudes - the party was still on ‘ceptin it would be going on without me.

You see… I went to a small Christian school. We invited teachers. We had plenty of chaperones. We also invited the pastor from the church my family attended at the time. And my dad happened to be an elder of that painfully small church. The little church went to the big church… yadda, yadda, yadda… and told mah Daddy: No party or you’ll have to step down. Fo shizzle. 

So. The party went on without me. My daddy still had to pay for the food and half the hall rental (the DJ was free!), but his daughter did not attend the party he paid for half of. And my Dad - he still feels guilty. I wish he didn’t because I have never been mad at him. I feel bad that he was put in such a hurtful place.

*****

Ya know, folks. I have been so blessed through all stages of life to have superior friends. Back then to present-day. And now there’s all my blogging friends… not just buddies, but women who I consider dear friends! We’ve never met (OK, I met a few of you at BlogHer ‘08), but you know what I’m sayin’… The best of the best of the very best… Back then, no one taunted or teased me about the circumstances surrounding my absence… 

And as the years have accumulated, I can clearly see how - despite the unfortunate turn of events - that God had in store a great thing for me. Through a time that was fairly intense (16 and left-out on All. The. Fun.) I got to see the depth and breadth of wonderful friendship in my teen years.

A short time after “The Party” the student leadership team I served with went on a retreat. It was that weekend I was given far more than anything I could have planned. My team/friends planned a different party for me - around the campfire. I had been blindfolded. We played one of those “trust games” and of course, I was one of blindfold-ees. I just didn’t know my blindfold had been on quite a bit longer than EVERYONE else.

When the blindfold came off, my friends belted that birthday song and a pile of flaming candles lit a cake. They all signed a card - that I still have. I look back on that night and it’s hard for me to truly regret not going to that Sweet 16 party - because I got to experience the unique expression of my friend’s compassion and love around that campfire in the Fall of 1988.

*wipes tear*

*****

2008. Despite all that gushy crap… I still want that dance party. I don’t think there will be any slow dancing at this one either, but that’s because I think slow dancing is boring. The lights will be dim, but that’s because we’re gonna have a disco ball! The DJ will be a team effort - my hubs and 2 hubs of mah girlfriends. No hall rental this time - I have an unfinished basement - it’s ambience will give the party that “edgy, teen-angsty feel”…

Yeah. It’s all good.

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