18, and LA was the place to be. A bit of California Dreaming. But she didn't come here to "make it big," the way that Hollywood has become a cliche for migrating 18 year olds.
During her three months she wove an elaborate existential web, equally laden with the questions of career, goals, love, nature, health, work, family.
Perils followed: she braved Glendale drivers to and from work on a bike. She was woken in the morning by enterprising 2 year olds curious about the young woman sleeping in their living room. She endured limited privacy, shared bathrooms. There was an inept, but very real attempted murder in the home above her. She almost, but not quite, witnessed her cousin slip from the edge of a cliff.
Successes followed: She made three kinds of business cards, one for film making, one as a nanny, and the last as a city planner. She found work in all three fields. She began a documentary film about women's empowerment. She had her fair share of celebrity sightings too, a Glee actress, and Michael Cerra, amongst others. She began blogging. She volunteered for the Los Angeles County Commission on Human Relations. She taught a two year old girl to say please and thank you, and was in the process of teaching the same two year old that sometimes she'd just have to wear a certain dress, no matter what. She became a god mother.
There was a trip to New York City, and Washington DC. There were hikes to hot springs, red rock formations, and hidden beaches in Malibu.
She discovered how to find $400 dollar dresses for $8, and re-made an entire wardrobe in 4 months.
Essentially, she stuffed her college admission applications.
And of course there were the relationships she built, becoming close to everyone she lived with.
And most importantly, she was, she wrote in a "good bye, see ya soon letter," happy. So she wants to come back.
For me, nearing age 40, and having left behind the moment of being 18 years of age nearly two decades ago, it was fascinating for me to see this daily excercise in self defintion up close. The longing for freedom, the intoxication and anxiety for an unknown future, the coming judgement of college admission committees, the search for permanence in her relations, while building new, professional ones, the balance of attaining personal hapiness while much of life was not yet in one's control. So much driven by optimism, hope, and dreams originating in childhood that nonetheless serve as life's rudder even at age 40.
It's ironic that at 40, I would develop the tenacity with which an 18 year old could conquer the world, and that the 18 year old has the ease of learning and the creative flexibility with which a 40 year old could conquer their world.
Done right, the strengths could come together to produce inspirational experiences. Coach and Player. Supervisor and Staff. Professor and Student.
Of course, Cheyenne did not come here to be MY student, and in fact, came here to leave formal education altogether for a year. But lessons are learned, truths are found in many surprising ways, often by experience, or by osmosis, and it was in this ocean of serendipity that we dipped, together, during her time here.
Next year?
She's going to get into a school, get a car to drive around, finish her documentary film, and hopefully, get her own room.
Lots to look forward to, for all of us who have been touched by her sweet, intelligent approach to life.
Miss ya cousin!
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