Each applicant was asked to create a how-to video and answer two questions.
I am a 21-year-old from Turner
If taken literally, I am enjoying my quiet Sunday evening in bed. In the more general aspect of things, I'm doing my darnedest to keep everything around me clean! I work at Ricker Hill Orchards in Turner, Maine (you've probably seen the cider jugs with the pretty trees on them in every Hannaford in the state); here, I assist the Beverage Engineer with his "dream job" of making hard cider. . . and I clean up after all that dreaming. Not that I mind—I love keeping things tidy! I don't just clean, either; I file paperwork, submit taxes every month, and—best part, folks—write laboratory and safety procedures. I attended the University of Maine at Farmington for three years and earned my Bachelor of Fine Arts in Creative Writing. Although the kind of writing I do now isn't quite what I'd imagined a year ago, I enjoy it nonetheless; might as well hone my skills in realms other than fiction and poetry! Anyway, enough babbling... I guess that's what happens when you give someone with this particular degree writing prompts.
Top 10 list all about me
1. I consider myself a cat-toilet-training guru. This is a great conversation starter, once I've exhausted every last cat picture from my phone.
2. I'm dead clumsy, but a (miraculously) good dancer. Maybe I'll upload one of my routines to YouTube. . . like Gangnam Style! I got second place in a Relay for Life drag show for dressing up as Psy and dancing to Gangnam Style. To this day, still my favorite song.
3. I can pronounce Taumatawhakatangihangakoauauotamateat
kitanatahu. Yes, it's a real word!
4. I love to run, even though I have hip, knee, and ankle issues. It makes me feel strong, like I can do anything.
5. I am the opposite of claustrophobic; instead of gazing at the sky and marveling at how big this universe is, I'm more comfortable climbing into a 1,500-gallon, stainless steel cider tank and scrubbing every last inch of it (which is a big part of my current occupation).
6. I'm such a neat freak that all the hangers in my closet are EXACTLY one inch apart. Bad thing? No way! This picky little home habit (amongst many others) helps me at work, too; everything, and I mean everything, has a place!
7. I can fall asleep anywhere, and in almost any position. Asphalt? Sure! Standing up? No sweat! 110 degrees? Pfft!
8. I once wrote a speech about how I shouldn't have to give said speech. I was such an introverted little high-schooler that I did everything in my power to avoid public speaking. Oh, I still had to give the speech. . . but everyone loved it.
9. I've read the entire Harry Potter series thirty-six times. Thanks to J.K. Rowling and her precious stories, I became inspired to write. And just look at me now. . .
10. I love being scared. Horror movies, roller coasters, in-class presentations—you name it! If I can conquer those, I can conquer the world.
My greatest learning experience
For the longest time, I felt like I didn't have a voice—that I didn't deserve a voice. Why should a shy little nobody be listened to? She has nothing to say!
One day, however, that mode of thinking changed. My ordinary, sophomore-level English class, studying "A Tale of Two Cities", was assigned to pick a character and write a monologue. We were asked to truly delve into the character's thoughts and feelings pertaining to the French Revolution. . . and our presentations had to be five minutes long. Nothing life-threatening, right?
To me, however, it was ALL wrong. I just knew I wouldn't be able to pull this presentation off, even if my character happened to be Madame Defarge, my favorite. I fretfully worked over and over again on my rough draft, trying not to cry with every mistake. I was ready to give up; I couldn't write anything that earned the title of monologue! Nobody would like it! The words didn't sound fancy enough!
After a few more hours of worrying, something bounced across my mind: who cares if the words didn't sound fancy? Was Madame Defarge a fancy lady? Of course not! She was a fierce, no-nonsense creature who needed to be captured that way. I then told myself that, maybe, I should remember something that made me really angry and write about that. So I did. Afterward, I told myself that that anger needs to seep into Madame Defarge's monologue, that she needs to do the writing now.
To this day, I don't recall the contents of that monologue; what I do remember, however, is all that anger I channeled from Madame Defarge. I didn't memorize something I wrote—Madame Defarge spoke from her heart, the heart that found its way onto the page.
I thought nothing of my presentation when it was over, but then my fellow students gathered around me and told me that they hardly recognized me up there. Who was that girl, giving such a powerful monologue? It was so nice to hear her voice; she should read more often!
It took me a while to come to the conclusion that it was the mindset I put myself in prior to writing that brought my work to life. In doing this, I finally managed to find a voice. It may not exactly be my voice, but I'm getting closer and closer with each new piece I write.
In fact, what you're reading right now isn't fully me, fully Cadyn. Oh, she's in there—but you're mostly reading the work of a perky blogger who's creating a rough draft for her college application essay.
If she were to get this Spokester position, though, she would steadily break through barrier after barrier until her voice, HER voice is heard.
And that's all she's ever wanted.