Teen Jeopardy

(My mother requested posts with funny/poignant childhood memories, and that seems like a preferable topic today. No politics here!)

When I was 17, I thought I was pretty smart stuff. I got good grades, was a member of my school's Science Bowl team, and could sometimes get the right answer when watching Jeopardy. (Or the right "question," technically.) One day, I heard that the Teen Jeopardy tournament was open for applications. Ha ha, I bet my entry was one of the first things I ever submitted online. Oh, the 90s!

A few days later, I received an email saying I had been selected to audition for the tournament. I was so pumped! Even more surprising, my mom and her friend agreed to accompany me to LA so I could try out.

Time has eroded some of the finer details from my memory, but what I do remember is flying to California, touring the Channel One studios because my mom's friend had a connection there, meeting Lisa Ling and being totally star struck, staying at someone's house who had fruit trees growing in their yard, and watching an episode of Jeopardy but not knowing many of the answers. (Foreshadowing!!)

The auditions took place at the Jeopardy studio. It was cool to get to go inside and see where the show was filmed. The room was packed with smart-looking young people. We all took a short trivia test and waited while our scores were tallied. Those who scored high enough got to continue to the next round. As we waited, we were supposed to write down interesting facts about ourselves to provide Alex Trebek with fodder for the "banter" section of the program.

When the person in charge returned to the stage, I perched on my seat, just waiting for her to mis-pronounce my name. (My maiden name was a tricky one.) But before long, she finished reading off the list of finalists. I didn't make it. Stunned, I slumped down in my chair. Another announcement followed that if we wanted to be part of a focus group about something that I can't recall, we could go to a different room. I thought maybe there was a chance if I went to the focus group and really impressed them, I'd get another shot, so I went. Nope, that didn't work either. Dejected, I went to find my mom in the parent waiting area. Some other dad was there whose son had made the finals; he acted like it was a sure thing that his son would be on the show because he was so brilliant. I wallowed in self pity over my sorry lot in life.

I still remember one of the questions I got wrong - it was about Natalie Merchant and the 10,000 Maniacs. I had never even heard of that band. It began to dawn on me that as a sheltered kid who'd only started listening to "secular" music a couple years earlier (by surreptitiously tuning in to the oldies station), my knowledge of pop culture was probably not up to the level necessary for success on such a tournament. Plus, I couldn't for the life of me keep all the mythological characters straight. Everyone knows if you're on Jeopardy you're eventually going to run into the Mythology category.

Despite the blow to my ego, it didn't take long for me to realize this failure had been a valuable learning experience. Namely, I found out that there were a lot of intelligent people in the world; I wasn't as smart as I thought I was. At 17, that's a pretty good reality check!

An Ode to College Writing Class

Today, I'd like to tell you about a person who helped me become a better writer, my College Writing teacher, Ms. C.

When I was a high school senior, my school offered either AP English or College Writing for college-bound students. (I believe there was also a class called Senior English, but it was for slackers.) I chose College Writing mainly because I didn't really care to read and analyze a bunch of long, confusing books. This turned out to be my favorite class I took in high school in no small part due to the great teacher, Ms. C. Her love of the written word was obvious, and she passed this passion on to us - or at least to those students like me who were eager little sponges.

We did daily writing journal exercises in that class. She would give us a prompt, and then we'd spend 10-15 minutes writing about it. Once a week or so, we'd trade journals with another student and provide each other feedback. It was great! This was before the days of blogs, so I really didn't have much of an audience for my entertaining prose otherwise :)

I remember that after we turned in our first essays, Ms. C selected a few of the best ones to read aloud to the class. Mine was one of those she picked! I was so proud and felt like a legitimate writer. In fact, I still recall the topic, "The Time I Tried Out for Teen Jeopardy." (Spoiler alert: I didn't make the cut, but at least I got a good story out of it.)

Before taking this class, no one had ever specifically taught me how to write before. By focusing on writing as a discipline and art form in and of itself, it's like a light bulb went on in my head. I realized writing isn't just about using proper grammar, punctuation, and paragraph structure. It's about saying exactly what you want to say in the style that is most appropriate to communicate your message.

A few of the things I remember learning, to be a good writer:

• Vary the beginnings of your sentences, so the reader doesn't get bored (as in, don't always start with "I" or whatever)
• Edit ruthlessly
• Don't use big words just for the sake of using them; chose the word that best conveys what you mean
• Tie it all together. For example, in a research paper, you want a solid introduction and conclusion that clearly state your thesis. In a more creative format, you'll still want to keep a unifying theme running through the piece.

Posting on my blog now feels like a writing journal that the world can read. I hope you enjoy it!

File under: NaBloPoMo Day 12