AZ to KS

October 7, 2012

Today, I write to answer the question: “How did you end up in Kansas?”

I get asked this question a lot.  Not as much now, as I used to get asked in college, of course.  But when people find out I’m from Arizona, they still ask.  It’s an amazing thing to look back now and see exactly how my journey has been presented to me in pieces.  My life and my journey have always belonged to God. 

 I was a high school student like any other in the country, doing my best to be competitive academically, and like other over-achievers, trying hard to cram my resume full of anything that looked like I wanted to be a contributing member of society, worthy of scholarship money of course.

 My sophomore year of high school, my school hosted a “Health Careers Fair”; we had several local professionals come in and talk about their jobs and the education they had to attain to get their careers, etc.  I’m not sure why, but it was during these presentations that I decided that I wanted to end up in the health care field.  I knew in my heart that I wanted to help people, and that I wanted to make a difference.

 My friend Anhel was a close influence, I think.  She was a year older than I was, and was very mature and put-together, and during my junior year, she was a great example of the kind of girl I wanted to be: pure, smart, hard-working, and working towards a degree to eventually become a doctor. 

 By the time my junior year of high school rolled around, I had obviously been signing up for emails and snail-mail from state universities, as well as some universities and colleges in California.  Plus, I was in national databases that sent out my info to colleges everywhere, so I got a lot of mail between my sophomore and junior years.  In the fall of my junior year of high school, the University of Arizona hosted a “Multicultural Junior Day”; this day was designed specifically for high school juniors from minority families.  My mom and I went (my 3 month-old baby sister in tow), spent the night in a hotel room, spent Saturday touring campus and sitting in on mock lectures and interview processes, got lost on the way back to Yuma, took the long way around Gila Bend, and decided I would apply to the U of A.  I did, and, after taking ACT’s and SAT’s, was accepted into their pre-med program by the fall of my senior year.  Because I had spent 3 years of high school taking rigorous science and math classes, I felt prepared.  I had my game plan, and I was ready.  I would finish my senior year, graduate, and attend the U of A in the Fall of 2006. 

 Well, God decided he wanted to throw a monkey wrench in for me.  In about October of my senior year, I received an envelope in the mail from some school in Kansas.  I thought it was a mistake; plus I was already accepted to U of A, so I didn’t need it.  I tore it up (because my mother taught me to never throw an envelope in the trash without ripping it up, to prevent identity theft), and forgot about the envelope. I went on about my life for several weeks, and then got another envelope in the mail; this time, it said something about “Track and Field Program” or “Track and Field Office/scholarships” on it.  I actually opened it this time, and read that the coaching staff would like to talk to me about their program and earning scholarship money.  I briefly mentioned it to my mom, then called the number and began a few-month-long conversation with Coaches Joe Wilkerson and Alan Webb. 

 The more I talked to the coaches, the more interesting it all sounded.  I remember mentioning my talks with the coaches to my teammates and peers; I knew that I appreciated being sought by ANY college for my athletic abilities.  I didn’t ever think that I would go on to participate in athletics at the collegiate level, and so I knew this was probably all coming as a surprise to my high school community.  A little piece of me felt like I was proving everyone wrong, and I liked it.  I remember the first time I brought up the subject of going to Kansas as a serious consideration; my mom freaked out.  She asked, “Kansas?  I thought you already had the plan of going to Tucson (to U of A).”  I said, “I want to set up a campus visit.”

 My mom and I booked airplane tickets with her credit card, and over my spring break my senior year of high school, we flew to Wichita, Kansas to see what this place was all about.  I remember talking to the Coach Webb about specifics before our trip; What would the weather be like? Where would we stay in Wichita? Who would pick us up and drive us the 70 miles north to Lindsborg?  How big was Lindsborg again?

 Well, this trip was only my second time on a plane, and it was my mom’s first.  I remember all the freak-outs; the creepy guy standing up by the lavatory door, who my mom (and I, secretly) was convinced was a murderer or a bomber.  My mom’s reaction to turbulence was quite comical, although I had to keep a straight face to keep her calm throughout the trip.  Once we landed in Wichita, we took a cab or a shuttle, or something, to the hotel; the Regency Inn (to this day, when I drive by it on West Kellogg Avenue, I think of my first night in Kansas).  We walked over to the Walmart that evening, and we ate at Ryan’s buffet place.  I remember the hotel was run by people of Middle Eastern descent.  I don’t remember much else about the stay.  I don’t think either of us had a cell phone, so I’m pretty sure I used a phone card to call Coach Webb and tell him we were in Wichita, and to arrange our pick-up for the next morning.

 Coach Webb himself came and picked us up.  I remember when I got in the car, (I rode in the front, my mom in the back), the most incredible wind I’d ever known forced me to shut my hair in the car door.  That was the first of many, many times that this would happen over the next 6 years.  One of the first things Coach Webb said to me was, “I don’t have that problem” with a laugh.  He is bald.  And he makes lots of jokes about it, all the time, even now, 6 years later. 

 On the drive to Lindsborg, I remember thinking that Kansas was quite pretty.  Everything was pretty green; spring was starting.  Good thing I didn’t visit during the winter months, or I probably would have never come back.  Everything gets really dead and ugly here during the winter, and I don’t like it. 

 When we took the exit to Lindsborg, I remember my heart started fluttering.  I have always been an anxious traveler.  I don’t like not knowing what to expect, and yet here I was, flying to the middle of the country, getting in a car with a man I’d never met before, going to visit only the second college campus I’d ever been on.  What were people in Kansas like?  I was about to find out a whole lot more than the folks at the Regency Inn were able to tell me.

 I remember bits and pieces about the visit, which was about 2 days, I think.  I know I didn’t sit in on any classes, which was weird, now that I look back on it.  I went to practice with the team a couple different times; I remember throwing shot put for Coach Wilkerson for the first time, and him telling me I “wasn’t bad”.  I went in the weightroom with the team once, too.  Now that was nervewrecking.  Lifting weights with some intimidating college athletes.  Yikes.  I remember meeting Nathan, mostly because I thought he was cute, and I remember him cheering me on in the weightroom when I was with the girls.  I stayed in the dorm in Anna’s room, because she was an RA and had a futon I could sleep on.  I didn’t shower in the dorm.  I must have showered at some point because of going to practice, but that must have been on my second afternoon in Lindsborg, and then the second night I stayed with my mom in the hotel before taking back off to the airport. 

 Well, somewhere between the weight room, the cafeteria food, which my mom was a huge fan of, and shot put practice, I also squeezed in a visit with the camp registrar and financial aid office, and put down a $300.00 enrollment fee, and met with the head of the Biology department, Mark McDonald, and registered for my first semester of classes. 

 I remember my mom and I fell in love with the people.  All of the athletes, coaches, and professors we met made us feel immensely comfortable.  We felt like everyone was really helpful and considerate, and wanted us to be a part of the community.  I remember being really nervous about all the college guys who kept asking about me in the cafeteria to Coach Wilkerson ( I actually heard them say, “Who’s that? She fiiiiine.”)  I remember taking my student ID picture. 

 Everything just felt right.  When it came time to register for classes, I didn’t sit and ponder my decision, or pray about it really.  I just had this sense of “go with the flow” type of peace about me the whole time.  I just knew that I was doing what I was meant to do all along, and I was excited.  Now, of course, 6 years later, I know that God was guiding my each and every step.  I know that I was not nervous, because I was falling in line with God’s will for me. 

 I finished my school year, graduated from high school, and then the countdown began for the drive to Kansas.  Oh, as soon as I got back from Kansas, I couldn’t stop talking about it to my friend and teammate Michelle.  We ended up getting her hooked up with the coaches and the scholarship as well, and she never visited; she just registered over the phone.  So, for the entire summer, she and I counted down together until the morning when we would leave for our new lives.

 The preparation for the trip was really stressful.  We knew we would be driving, because there’s no way we could fly with all the things we needed for a college dorm.  We packed up all of our clothes and bedding into my mom’s minivan, and okay, I had already purchased some school supplies (my mom went nuts buying me lined paper; I still have like 6 packages of it, I think).  I remember being so panicked and nervous about being expected to share all my belongings and my things, mostly because my mom kept putting these awful thoughts in my brain about how to “take care of my own stuff” and “not be taken advantage of”.  It’s safe to say I was a wreck on the eve of our trip to Kansas.  My mom wanted Michelle and her mom to sign a piece of paper saying that Michelle would pay for half of the gas the whole way to Kansas; it was ridiculous, and made me feel so awkward.  I remember feeling sick to my stomach for some of the ways my mom was so rude and inconsiderate on this trip (not going out of her way to find cheap hotels; being high maintenance). 

 My mom’s then-boyfriend Oscar drove with us, because my mom didn’t want me driving at all (it was too dangerous, she said...).  We had to replace a windshield wiper on the road, we took back roads in the middle of the night and had to keep our eyes peeled for animals; I kept the atlas of the United States open on my lap for the entirety of the trip once we hit Flagstaff, because then we were entering into unfamiliar territory.  So, I kid you not, I am getting anxious feelings just writing about this trip; ugh it was stressful.  I hope you, reader, are not getting anxious as well.  If you are, I apologize, I’m almost through this part.

 It rained a lot on the drive.  I remember not sleeping at all while we were on the road (because of course, if anything happened while I was sleeping, it would be my fault; read: Anxiety is real, people). 

 We made it to Salina, Kansas late one night; we came in on the North side of Salina.  Now that I go back and think about it, I’m sure we drove through Ellsworth (where I ended up living 4 years later; a topic for another writing session).  We called Coach Webb to tell him we made it.  We got dinner and a hotel (stressful topic; I’m going to avoid it; let’s just say Michelle almost slept in the car.  And I cried.).  And we drove down to Lindsborg the next day.  My mom and I argued about which direction was North or South (I was right; I didn’t know my directions at this point, but I have an impeccable photographic memory).  And my mom and Oscar helped us move all of our stuff into the dorm.  Darcy and Michelle helped us (they were RA’s in Anna Marm, our residence hall), and I hugged my mom for the first time in years.  I remember fighting back some tears of nervousness, but overall being ok.  I don’t remember details about that first night; did I sleep?  Did I dream? 

 I know there were lots of awkward moments; figuring out where to get drinking water (fountain downstairs).  Michelle and I were glued to each other’s sides until classes started.  We had arrived on campus with the fall athletes, so a couple weeks earlier than everyone else.  Our days were filled with practices, meeting teammates, and telling the “We’re from Arizona/we went to high school together” story repeatedly for the first couple weeks. 

 And that, folks, is how this Arizona girl ended up in Kansas.  Or at least, briefly.  I actually feel kind of anxious and nervous sitting here wondering if I want to continue the story, and write about “Fall ‘06”, but I think I’m done reliving the past for now, and want to go think of something soothing and happy, so I will continue the story later.  At least now you kind of see how I got where I am.  Wait, no, that’s a lie.  Cuz there is so much more to the story.