"Congrats! You're film has been acknowledged and will be in our film festival! Hope to see you there!-10 Day Film Challenge."

I made a film for the 10 day film challenge in my video class called "Plushaphobia." Most people had 10 days to make this film and my class had 3 hours (stupid snow days). There were many rules we had to follow, like "You have to include a stuffed animal" and "Your main character has to have a phobia"; I honestly thought that making this film in 3 hours was impossible. When I heard that the film got acknowledged, I was ecstatic, I pulled it off. I knew it was good but I did not think that the film was THAT good, since that the schools low quality equipment and short amount of time limited my abilities. We did not win any special awards at the actual ceremony but 30 films out of hundreds got to go to the festival and my film was one. I am still in shock.

 Here's the film incase you wanna watch it!

Since then, I have continued making films; one about conformity (a crowd favorite), a movie trailer for the movie The Call, which is amazing, and one about believing in yourself. Film making is my passion. Opening Premiere and being able to take raw footage and turn it into something amazing is something I never want to give up. There's something about seeing the final product of the film that makes my heart race and makes me smile.

I also love the messages films can send. My films are made to send messages about happiness, self-confidence and being yourself. It is amazing how one film can affect so many people and make them feel safe. I want to be able to continue to help others and make them feel safe through my films.

Film making is not a hobby for me, it is a way of life. Ever since that film festival, ever since I noticed how a film can change of life, I knew that is what I want to do with my life. Art school, a place where I can continue to grow and influence others; art school is a dream of mine. Many people have told me that art school is a bad idea, but you know what? I am passionate about film making, I love my video class and that feeling I get watching my final product is something I want to experience for the rest of my life. Film making is my life.

Here's the movie trailer! 

My rough ride to self-confidence.

The beginning of junior year, my application for National Honor Society had been sent in over a month ago, all I needed was that one letter saying, "Congratulations." I got myself all worked up, thinking I had no chance of not being accepted, that I would be lighting a candle the following week, but my whole world turned on me.

I was visiting my sister in Louisiana, the day was hot and muggy, my friend had texted me saying she was accepted. Immediately I called my grandmother, begging her to open the letter. I was on the phone while helping my sister and brother in law set up their Christmas tree; hanging red ornaments and spreading sparkle all over the house. Then, the words came out of my grandma's mouth, "You were not accepted." I fell to the couch, my tears fell like a waterfall and my phone tumbled on to the ground. I cried for hours on hours on hours. My last day in Louisiana ruined by one letter, one sentence, "You were not accepted."

For days I cried, not understanding why I was not accepted. I questioned my abilities, my grades, my leadership, my life. I felt embarrassed to show up to school, all of my friends had been accepted, they all celebrated without me; I was ashamed. I couldn't help but question, why? I refused to apply senior year, not wanting to feel the pure torture I felt the first time of rejection, but then I realized something.

Okay, I was not accepted. What can I do to improve and be accepted? That question that I believed was impossible to actually answer, was possible. NHS claimed that I was not a leader; I got involved in Step Up and got TRAINED to be a leader. NHS said I needed more extra-curricular activities; I joined yearbook club, decided to run for class officer and got involved in activities outside of school. NHS made me believe that I was not good enough, but I am good enough.

Not being accepted to NHS seemed like my worst nightmare, but it actually helped me to grow. I learned that if someone puts me down, or if something puts me down, they can only knock me over, not keep me down. I need to keep my head up, strive to prove them wrong and fight for what I want. Never give up on yourself, because you are worth it. I learned it the hard way, but it is true; you are worth it.

http://www.nhs.us/

My life; family edition.

Family is one of the most important things to me. I grew up in a huge family; I have 20 cousins who are 2 feet from my reach, 5 whom are about an hour drive, a sister, a brother in law, my parents, grandparents, nephew and all of my Aunts and Uncles. A lot of people aren't close with their cousins because they are usually extended family who live in other areas; my cousins are my neighbors and my best friends. Every single one of them is basically a brother or sister to me and I love them all with all of my heart. We all spend every single holiday together, every birthday together, every graduation together and basically every day together.

If you read my first blog entry, you will know what I am about to talk about in this section of my blog. When my moms situation erupted, I felt like I had no one with me, like I was going to be alone. But this is why my cousins feel like my brothers and sisters; every single one of them were there with me for the whole 4 years of struggling. Some of them would come over and just come into my room and sit there with me, talk with me, and help me through the most difficult time of my life. Others invited me to go anywhere they went; the mall, the race track, to get lunch, or even just to go to Shoprite to get me out of my drought. I wouldn't be where I am without my cousins because they honestly helped me through those 4 years and continue to support me through anything in my life.

Now, I will admit, our family as fights just like the rest of them. The thing that makes our family fights more difficult is the fact that we all live so close together so interaction is unavoidable. But, living close together is also a good thing. Though we have these fights, we always find a way to work it out. I remember once, our family had a fight over who was going to hold Easter celebration (stupid, I know). Any whom, there was a huge argument and Easter was in a week, we had to figure something out. All of the aunts came together and sat around a table and just talked. They talked about the issues, why the fight started and how to resolve it. I was astonished at how they all sat around the glass table and talked and ended up resolving the issue, that is something I admire about this family.

My extended family isn't extended, they are one of the biggest parts of my life. They support me, protect me, make me smile, make me laugh, and they helped make me into, well, me. I love my family and you can bet that even when I go away to college, they will all be right by my side.

Secrets, Safety, Success, Freedom.

As soon as I heard that we were to write about our "comfortable spot," I knew exactly what to write about; my car.

My car is my comfortable spot for so many reasons. My car is like a chamber of secrets; whenever I am with my friends or family in my car, I tend to spill my emotions and tell secrets that need to come out. Those secrets will never find their way out of my car, my car is like a safe spot to talk about what ever one needs to talk about. My car is also a place of safety; when I feel sad or mad or bored, I hop into my car and just drive until my head is clear. If I feel uncomfortable or scared,  I can just go into my car and escape the madness. I'm not sure what it is about my car; the smell of bath and body works "Caribbean escape," the seat adjusted just for me, the radio blasting playing the music that I love, there is just something about my car that makes me feel, free.

I remember the day I bought my car; I bought my car a month before my road test because I did not want to parallel park my moms Lincoln Mercury; it is the size of a cruise ship. My dad and I found my car on craigslist the morning I bought it. We drove to this used car dealership an hour from my home. We pull into the dealership to find my silver beauty sitting in the front lawn with a "For Sale" sign in the windshield. My dad and I took it for a test drive; my dad pulled into this abandoned parking lot, got out of the drivers seat and told me to take it for a spin around the lot. I got into the drivers seat and my favorite band started playing on the radio, 5 Seconds of Summer. I put my hands on the wheel and instantly knew that this was the car I have been saving up for for so long. I told my dad "Yes." We drove back to the dealership and signed a bunch of papers. I handed the lady the money for my car and she handed me the keys..."She's all yours." I was ecstatic, finally all of my hard work paid off.

My car is a symbol of success, of hard work paid off. I bought my car with my own money; a whole summer working at a camp, 6 paychecks and sweet 16 money all raveled into one silver car. I pay for my gas, for car washes, for whatever needs to be done to my car. And, no, I don't care that my parents make me pay, because I work hard every day and being able to use my own money to put half a tank of gas into my car is a feeling I never want to lose.

My car; secrets, safety, success, freedom. My car is my comfortable spot, what is yours?

Four years of me.

January, 2010. The day that would change my life forever. It was sixth grade, I was called down to the guidance office to "talk." Figuring I was simply making a schedule, I walked down with joy. I walked into the room and saw my sister. She was on the new, blue fabric office chair, her shiny blonde hair facing me. Weird. She turned around and the sorrow hit me. She was crying, mascara down her face and on her tissues. I was so confused. Mrs. Magarity got straight to the point; your mother is incarcerated. I was so confused. Why? How? When? Where? All of my thoughts spread as I rode home with my sisters tears.

I got home and was told to say good-bye. I gave my mom the biggest hug, her tears rolling down my shirt, and said "I love you," then she walked out the door. Later that day I heard my dad talking on the phone; "She has a 4-13 year sentence." 13. Years. That is when I officially broke down. I cried and screamed and threw myself on my bed. I didn't go to school for weeks, and I hoped that everyone wouldn't know why I didn't go, but they did.

I returned to school, terrified. Everyone was...looking at me. I spent my lunches in the guidance office and after school sitting by myself on the bus. All of middle school was the hardest time of my life. Luckily I had a  lot of people to support me and keep me strong, but life wasn't the same without my mom.

Four years of fear, sadness, 6 hour trips to visit her, four years without my mom, and finally, the day came. January 13th, 2014, we got the call. "Come get me, I am officially out." We got up and ran to the car filled with gifts and love. It was the best day ever. My sister came over, my brother in law came over, everyone was together, as a family once again. I still remember the first thing my mom said when she got in the car; "Phones are flat now?" Life was finally falling back into place.

Now I know what some of you may be thinking, and no, my mother is not a criminal. My mother is the nicest, sweetest, most wonderful person on this planet, who just happened to get into a bad situation. This post may make you look at me differently, you may be shocked, but this is what makes me, me. This also may answer some questions about myself, and it is important to share. I love my mother, I love my family, and I love my life. Although this situation may be terrible, I wouldn't change anything because I wouldn't be "me" without it

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This is my new blog!!