Record details
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Whoever said it’s a good idea to plan out the future did not consider that life’s plans have no guarantee. Admittedly, planning used to be my strong suit, each subsequent move expertly coordinated. That is, until TJC happened. Growing up, I danced competitively and at school for 15 years. Dance was my life; I was destined to be an Apache Belle.
For months, I prepared for the spring audition. The morning of tryouts, I danced my absolute best, knowing every step. However, as soon as the first cuts occurred, my confidence plummeted. I was cut!
Mike Tyson once said, “Everyone has a plan ‘til they get punched in the mouth.” Talk about a punch in the mouth; I had turned away thousands of scholarship dollars in order to pursue dance. A metal door slammed in my face, and although I hid it fairly well, the pain consumed me. I was humiliated, lost, and above all, broken.
By August, my life appeared to be at a standstill, and my only option was TJC for two years. I wrote for my high school’s newspaper, and although I enjoyed it, a career in journalism—I thought—would never go beyond senior year. I knew if I did nothing, stepping foot on campus every day would be a painful reminder of my inadequacy for the one dream I had coveted. Desperately, I emailed Laura Krantz, the Apache Pow Wow newspaper advisor, hoping to start writing for them. She responded quickly, saying the staff needed help on the back-to-school issue. Immediately, it perked my interest. The day I arrived, she hired me on as Arts and Entertainment Editor, and for the first time that summer, I felt my life pulling itself together again.
That year, I gained a fresh direction, and my enthusiasm for writing strengthened into storytelling. After a life of dance, I felt more empowered in the newsroom than I ever had in a dance studio. Instead of competing daily for a front row spot, I now could grow in a creative environment that encouraged and challenged me. I even secured an internship with the Tyler Morning Telegraph for the following summer.
However, the Apache Belle rejection would prove not to be rock bottom. During the following summer at the Tyler paper, I became very ill, and my doctors were stumped by what they thought was an abnormally aggressive, digestive tract bacterial infection. Dozens of prescriptions proved unsuccessful, some inciting worse side effects. After countless tests and emergency room visits, Dr. Craig Radford, a Tyler gastroenterologist, diagnosed me with ulcerative colitis, a chronic autoimmune disease. In late September, I entered the hospital for treatment.
By then, my illness had mercilessly attacked the rest of my body. Weeks without eating caused my muscles to suffer tremendously. Severe dehydration, joint pain, hair loss, and migraines so potent that some days didn’t exist—the list never ended.
Again, I was broken, physically and emotionally. Although I attended only the first couple days of the fall semester, I put school on hold, hoping for a miracle if I returned. My life and health were filled with uncertainty, and salvaging the semester appeared out of the question. I came back during Homecoming Week, exactly at midterm. To my overwhelming surprise, Mrs. Krantz had already spoken with the dean on my behalf.
With great understanding, my professors allowed me to finish the semester. Their encouragement pushed me to end the semester with a 4.0 GPA. With more fire and fortitude than ever, I completed the rest of the school year as an All-State Academic Team member, Editor-in-Chief of the paper, and Texas Intercollegiate Press Association Reporter of the Year.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t bitter after the Apache Belle tryouts. Hopelessness isn’t exactly the best way to begin a college career. However, given the chance, I would love to thank whoever that day rejected me. My experiences with the Apache Pow Wow and TJC as a whole launched me to places that a life in dance could scarcely touch, enabling and empowering me to seek opportunities. In the newsroom, I was respected for my mind rather than physical abilities. While I do miss dancing, a life consumed in it could never surpass the mountains I have achieved without it.
I owe everything to that newsroom, especially Mrs. Krantz. She took a chance on a girl who was knocked down—twice—and gave this girl the courage to fight back with insane tenacity. My fellow editors became some of my greatest friends, and I’m a changed person. My pessimism turned to optimism, and I’m thankful I found a home where I was appreciated and loved so ardently. Author Sarah Dessen hits it perfectly, affirming, “It [is] amazing how you could get so far from where you’d planned, and yet find it was exactly where you needed to be.”
Journalism saved my life. Period. God knew what He was doing when He put me at TJC, and I will always remain an advocate of this school. After surviving the heartbreak of rejection and the temporary loss of my health, I reflect now on my time there, realizing that every plan I had made for my future looks utterly dim compared to the adventure He prepared. Although I was proverbially punched in the mouth a few times, I victoriously found I’m exactly where I need to be.
- Biography
- TJC Hero and Friend Taylor Griffin graduated TJC magna cum laude with honors in 2013 with an associate’s degree in Journalism. She was accepted into The Fund for American Studies, a prestigious program for college students, and lived and interned in Washington, D.C. for nine weeks at Where Washington magazine. She will transfer to Baylor University on a full-tuition scholarship in the fall to study Journalism with a minor in Film/Digital Media and serve as Arts and Entertainment Editor for the Baylor Lariat newspaper.
