A Friend

Late June, 1997

It was my 8^th birthday and I ran to the car, sweaty, red-faced, and bearing my ‘purple people eaters’ uniform. What a better way to celebrate your birthday than to play soccer? Devouring our ‘treats’ myself and the rest of the team were kicking the extra soccer balls around while the parents chitchatted the night away. Sarah was on my team, and our parents were talking. We were begging, “pleeeeese, can we go swimming?” The parents, looking with mischievous looks on their faces gathered around the car. Sarah’s dad pulled out a backpack, a sleeping bag, and a pillow. Wait, what? A sleepover? A real live sleepover?! “You can go swimming at Kayla’s, and you can sleep there too” said Sarah’s dad. The two of us squealed, jumping, running, expounding any energy that we had left in us. Sarah and I were now officially best friends. We were going to have a sleepover, and sleepovers are what best friends do.

"Purple People Eaters" 1998

It was the biggest deal in the world. Our little minds had figured out that if I cut through my backyard and walked up the road behind us, I could get to Sarah’s house, all by myself. That means I wouldn’t have to rely on the parents for a drive over, I could just go. And what person wouldn’t want to spend an afternoon at Sarah’s house? Sarah was only the coolest girl in school, we could jump on the “tramp”(oline), play video games with her older brother, and it was almost a guarantee that I would come home with some new craft, sand art, or art project that I had made at her house. She was still my best friend. We had code names for each other (“kay-kay” and “sar-sar”, the crowning display of our creativity), we were equally matched academically and liked a lot of the same things. We both had brothers, we both played the clarinet, and we both struggled with our spelling. One day I went to one of Sarah’s soccer games. Over the years it became blatantly clear that Sarah had more athletic ability than I did. She was gliding across the field when all of a sudden, down she went. The entire sideline gasped, and Sarah didn’t get up. Memories, images. Sarah being carried off the field by her dad, Sarah hobbling around at school, Sarah at her house, hooked up to a machine. She had torn her ACL and needed to have surgery. My mom and I shopped throughout a variety of stores, looking for things to get her. I sat at Sarah’s house, on the couch. We were just talking, laughing, keeping company. That’s what best friends do.

A few weeks later I had a soccer game of my own. It had recently rained and the back of my calves were splattered with specks of mud and grass. The ball was right in front of me so I gathered speed and swung my leg. My momentum didn’t balance the huge puddle that I had found myself in, and down I went. Memories, images. Ref blows the whistle, leaving the game before it ends, my dad and I in the ER, my arm in a sling. We were three days away from fifth grade graduation and all of the really cool stuff was happening for fifth graders. Sarah had been on crutches for weeks, and now I too was banned from participating. Instead we sat along the sidelines of all the games, cheering on our classmates, dancing in our own corner when the DJ came, and giving advice to help our class cream the teachers at dodgeball. We self-titled ourselves “the cripples” and even had our picture taken with the school principal. We didn’t let each other go through a tough experience alone. That’s what best friends do.

Jae, Sarah, Kayla. High school friends all grown up.

Fast forward to high school. All sorts of changes have happened, including a shift in friends. Sarah and I were still both in band, but had academically grown apart as she played sports all year round and I found myself in choir and the musicals and every musical endeavor possible. Luckily for me, Jae also found herself in these activities too. We quickly clicked and bonded over our distaste for band, but both knowing we wanted to be in music education we stayed anyway, complaining and rolling our eyes every day. As part of being in band it was a requirement to play at the graduation. Pomp & Circumstance an average of 14 times as all of the seniors processed into the arena. The band of 120 was then required to sit in silence for 2 ½ hours while the ceremony took place. Whoever thought that was a good idea was sadly mistaken. Jae and I sat there year after year talking, giggling, and devouring large packs of sour gummy worms to make it go by faster. We made the best out of crappy situations. That’s what best friends do.

Friends change, and friendships change. The levels of relationship between your best friend in second grade and your best friend in college are vastly different (at least, I would hope that they would be). We all have these crazy memories of childhood friends, and if we’re lucky we’re still in contact with a quarter of them. I know for me, it is far less than a quarter of them.

I’ll just put this out there, I have really high expectations of myself. When I think of all that is entailed in entering into a friendship with someone, it’s seriously daunting to think of all the things that could go wrong. Perhaps China is a good place for me. The Chinese culture is serious about friendships. This past summer we were warned that if one of our students asked if we could be ‘friends’ to strongly consider what our answer would be. To accept and enter into a friendship with a Chinese person, you are binding yourself with them for life. That means that you are their resource if they are in need, you are their confidant, you are their lifeline. Although I absolutely love this demonstration and commitment, it makes one really think hard about what friendship actually is, and to how many we can actually be devoted to in this nature. We Americans are so casual in our friendships that we may go through our entire lives without ever having a relationship to this degree.

With the title of “friend” comes a large responsibility. In our society the term is used  casually all the time. “Facebook friends”, church friend, this friend, that friend. I’ve spent a large amount of time over the past four years coming to the conclusion that being a friend is so much deeper than what many make it out to be. What does it mean to be an incredible friend? I am an idealist meaning that I have this idea in mind that is basically unattainable. For the time being we can still make strides in attempting to be the best friend that we can be. To be a real friend takes effort, it takes sacrificing yourself, yet knowing where to draw lines. It means being open. The type of friendship that I showed and shared with people in high school is far different than how I interact with my friends now. The role of being a friend is a process that is continually being molded by those who we surround ourselves with. I notice that each of those who I am in close relationship with bring out certain aspects of who I am, different personality glimmers and dimmers (ie the good and the bad).

Sidenote: I never understood how others could refer to six different people as their “best friend.” Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of a best friend? The way that I roll in relationships is that I often have very few who are actually close to me, and then a wide variety of acquaintances. I think this would stand true for most people as well. Anyways... this whole friendship ordeal is rather complex and I had no idea where to throw that in...

Despite everything I just said, I have been blessed with the most incredible friends in the world. I mean, I may be a little biased, but I’m not joking when I say that I would do anything for these special people.  I would love to take you through a variety of stories with my college friends, true demonstrations of love, devotion, and community, the way friendship was intended to be. That however would take months to complete and maybe catch the interest of like, 2 people. I guess this is a general shout out to all my friends whom I love and adore. I hope you know I love and adore you, and frankly I couldn't live life without you. {flash back to middle school. I'm ok with it.}

Everyone has the capacity to be a friend. The question is, to what degree of a friend does everyone choose to be? Are we willing to put forth the effort to be an incredible friend, or do you just mozy around all the live-long day, sucking up what you need to get by from this person and that person?

[These thoughts on friendships will drastically change as the next few weeks come around and major life changes take place. I just thought it would be a good idea to capture where I'm at in this moment. It's always fun to come back months and years later to see the changes that have taken place in 'you'.]

Friend (noun)

1. a person known well to another and regarded with liking, affection, and loyalty; an intimate

2. an acquaintance or associate

3. an ally in a fight or cause; supporter

4. a fellow member of a party, society, etc

5. a patron or supporter