Living In The Spotlight

            Have you ever wanted to be famous? Well I am. In some ways I consider myself none other than Hannah Montana, living the best of both worlds.

            It was only three months ago that I, Ashley Dykstra was nothing more than a struggling teenager, living off my $11.75 an hour pay from In-N-Out, moving house to house, and pretending to hang out with all those friends I didn’t really have.  I got bored with my life, so in August 2010 I packed up my belongings and moved to Jishou China, to be an English teacher. Before I knew it, I went from being invisible to being swarmed by thousands of my number one fans. It was now October and a huge week for Yasi Middle School, where I was teaching my 1,100 rambunctious students. It was the week of our Art Festival. Colorful banners, cheerful music, and excited children surrounded me. The kids were hard at work, practicing for the big performances they were forced to be part of as part of their grade.

My co-worker and I were nervous. If you are ever a foreigner in China you will quickly learn that they love foreigners, and any chance they get they will make you do something for them.  Within the first two months of living there I had sung on national TV in their version of American Idol, and I had been all over the internet for a Tae Kwon Do advertisement. So of course we saw it coming when they asked my room mate/co-worker Tessa and I to perform in the Art Festival. We got to pick what we were

 

 going to perform, and how long it would be, as long as it was approved by the head master first. The only thing I felt even remotely comfortable doing was what I was best at, rapping. I wrote a rap about Tessa and I being foreign English teachers at Yasi, and we practiced until the second we got on stage.

I walked into that auditorium full of confidence and swagger. Suddenly I saw the 3,000 plus students, teachers, and parents filling the stands all the way up to the nose bleeds. Every ounce of me about jumped out of my skin and ran out that front door. As the acts went by and it got closer and closer to performing my knees got weak and all I could do was sit. My students somehow found me in my hidden corner, made their presence known, and wished me good luck. Each kid who said hi to me just made me that much more nervous, they would think I was a fool if I messed up. My heart was racing as I walked to the side of the stage, waiting to go on next. I wondered if everyone could see my heart beating through my shirt. My stomach was in knots as I glared at my paper, reading and re-reading my lines. At this point anyone who talked to me just got the death stare. The only way I could pull this off was if I stayed in the zone, shutting out the entire world. I wondered if I could wrap myself in the long, dark purple, velvet curtains and hide until our act was over.

It was go time, I took the microphone in my shaking left hand then right foot forward I ran out on stage. “Yo, yo, yo, this one goes out to you Yasi!” I yelled as I ran out, throwing my arms in the air. Blinded by the florescent lights, all I could hear was screaming and kids chanting my name. As my eyes adjusted, I wished they hadn’t. I saw the row of principles, head masters, and counselors sitting front and center waiting to judge our act. The thousands of kids were on their feet, roaring for us to start, my stomach was turning and I feared I would vomit if I opened my mouth.

            As I started rapping I was shocked at how well it was going. I found myself starting to sway my body from left to right, using my hands, and releasing the robotic tone in my voice. The kids continued to go wild, running up to the stage, throwing their arms up, and screaming. Astounded I did a double take, looking around to make sure it was really me these kids loved, or if somehow Jackie Chan or Justin Bieber were standing behind me.  The crowd started singing along, the judges had smiles, and soon people couldn’t help but dance along. The nerves were far in my past, for now, I was thriving off the fame. My rap was coming to an end, I tried to stall, I wanted to remain living in the spotlight. My two minutes of fame were now over, yet the applause and chants remained. If they knew the English word for encore, they would have been shouting it. I threw my arms up one last time and gave my fans the peace sign, then giddily ran off stage.

            I didn’t even have a second to collect my thoughts, or control the excitement that was growing with every heart beat, before my students swarmed me. Hugs, high fives, and congratulations were all around. They wanted autographs on their arms, heads, and clothes. A grin from ear to ear was pinned on my face. I was ready to free style Eminem. The camera flashes were so bright and frequent that I could have gotten a tan. People I had never seen before took the time to not only talk to me, but worship me. The confidence turned into cockiness, I held my arms out, my hands motioning for them to stop, “Please people, no more pictures.” I felt like I was on top of the world. As I walked back to my seat I noticed chairs were empty; and it dawned on me that I was the reason. All those kids were following my every move, which was a little awkward as I walked towards the bathroom and explained that I needed a minute.

This insane four hour festival was now over and I was nothing short of exhausted. I never knew how draining it was to be popular and famous. On my bus ride home I thought of all the smiling faces I saw on my kids tonight. It made me so happy to know that they really cared for me and loved me no matter what. With my head leaning up against the cold window, I silently laughed to myself. I bet not even one third of those students understood me. How cool am I? These kids don’t have a single clue what I’m saying, or that I was even rapping about them, yet they still chased after me like a kid chases bubbles. The following days, I was talked about by my students and peers. I was curious how long my fame would really last, but as my girl Hannah says, “Life’s what you make it, so let’s make it rock.”