There is no Chance. Just God.

From April 16, 2008

With less than three weeks to go, I might as well start to begin the reflection process.

I never planned to be apart of Campus Crusade for Christ. I knew I wanted to be sure that my faith wouldn't take a lapse as I entered college, but to be honest, a Christian fellowship wasn't the forefront of my mind, never really being apart of one before. I just wanted to meet a few Christian people and attend a church, and I figured I'd be golden.

So during the the otherwise pointless occasion known as "Welcome Week", I found myself at the Catholic Center, ironically for "Protestant Worship Night." There were more people there than expected - after all, I figured this was a school where half of the students were Jewish and the other half were agonistical atheist, vaguely spiritual, but not really, folks. Not much room for Christians.

Tisch School of the Arts is strange. That much I knew before I came to NYU, solely because of the title "school of the arts." Figures that during our orientation, they'd assign us something before classes actually started, just to inconvenience a poor little, relatively shy girl from North Carolina who hadn't the slightest clue how to navigate properly the subway systems. I could hardly get to Kimmel effectively.

Nonetheless, I was told that before my first Writing the Essay class, I had to travel to the Museum of Modern Art to check out the Richard Serra exhibit. Where was this so-called "MoMa?" I didn't know, but I did know that it was free on Fridays, and that I had no one to accompany me.

Back to Protestant Worship Night, there was a post-gathering involving snacks and plenty of flyers after the worshipping. Things for tons of Christian groups and clubs and all sorts of fun, spiritual things. And of course, the typical list of questions. "Name? Where you from? Where you living? What's your major?"

"Chanelle. Yes, like 'No. 5'. No, it's not spelled the same. North Carolina. Yes, it's a big difference. Brittany. Film and Television."

It was the last answer that got a "Transform" flyer stuck in my hands, a Christian group focused on the arts. It was the content of that flyer that opened my eyes a bit. That Friday, they were going to MoMa! Problem solved.

That night, I ended up at Upstein (and found out that people up North were deprived of the wonder of Chick-Fil-A) with a bunch of cool cats from ... whoa, I definitely totally went blank on the name. (EDIT:Intervarsity is the name) But they were nice, and I figured, if I were to join a fellowship on campus, that was probably the one I'd end up at.

Friday found me dazed and in front of Kimmel, looking for the group that would lead me to the completion of my pointless Tisch assignment. It was a bit after the designated meeting time, and I was sure that I was soon going to be forced to turn back, empty-handed and forced to b.s. an essay (something high school had given me plenty of practice at). But fortunately, I spotted a blob roaming the area, made up of a few people I'd recognized from the night before.

It's funny looking back on that moment, thinking of the people I was introduced to who I knew nothing about in those moments. Strangers. People that I honestly didn't expect to come into much contact with after I was done viewing Richard Serra.

We were led to the subway station - everybody pulled out their metrocard and went right through. I, however, was a bit loss. I didn't own one of these "metro cards", yet everybody else did? Really?

My confusion must've been made apparent on my incredibly attractive, yet distinctly innocent face (hahaha), because Nick (though I think I only knew him back then as 'Tall white guy who is probably a couple of years older than me') came "to the rescue" and instructed me in the art of purchasing a metrocard. I put $20 on it, and it's still the same baby I use to this day. But more on him and our adventures through New York later, ha. In all seriousness, I will at a later time write a note about my metrocard.

And it was off to the MoMa. Being the painfully socially awkward in the face of strangers child that I was, I broke away from the group after we went through the incredibly long line and had purchased our free tickets (talk about your contradictions). I was on a mission - find Richard Serra, be amazed, then go back to Brittany.

Nothing went as planned. Well, I did find Richard Serra (his work, though, not the actual sculptor), had my interests vaguely aroused, but nothing that had me awestruck, since I wasn't exactly a fan of large pieces of metal that looked like they'd had the Force used on them. And I never ended up back at Brittany, but rather ended up living at the museum for my entire freshman year.

I'll stop being ridiculous now.

The end of my museum journey landed me back with these Christian peoples before the designated meeting time. I remember Josh and Michele, at least, as I sat awkwardly with them, listening in on their conversation, idly checking my phone and looking around, quite relieved that I had gotten the first part of my assignment done. We headed to the lobby to wait for the others.

Then I was engaged in bits and pieces of conversation, though I was mentally cursing myself at how inept I was at it. I recall Michele asking me for my phone number, then asking if I was attending the picnic in Central Park the next day.

Now, I knew nothing about a picnic. I was only at the MoMa because a little flyer for TransForm had told me. But I should've known then and before that this wasn't just a TransForm event. I had now entered the world of Campus Crusade for Christ - whatever the heck that was.

Figuring that Christian friends and a life outside of the fourteenth floor of Brittany Hall couldn't possibly hurt me (and not to mention, a chance to go to Central Park!), I told Michele, "I think I will." It's odd how sometimes, I remember things in such detail. What's not odd is that I just skipped class. Oops?

After the museum escapade, I found myself in the midst of these people, eating at this place called Cosi. Naturally, I was relatively silent. I can't remember if I got much badgering about it - that's what usually happens, so I'm sure at least once the question was posed "Why aren't you really talking?" Oh, that's a loaded question.

But I definitely didn't mind, though, sitting, eating, and listening to these people talk. They seemed interesting. They were mostly older, they were Christians, and they were nice people.

Then came the first taste of what the rest of my semester would be like. Riding on the subway back downtown, I was expecting to just head back to my dorm, mingle, call my mom to tell her about my adventures, then go to bed. Instead, I got a social life when Michele and Andrea invited me to Andrea's dorm to watch the bootleg version of Hairspray.

I think I was vaguely impressed with myself. Here I was, not even a week after my parents had kicked me to the curb of 55 East Tenth Street, hanging out at a different dorm with people older than me. I was figuratively brushing off my shoulders. Just a bit over a month before, I had turned eighteen. Now, I was a woman!

No, honestly, nothing THAT dramatic was going through my head. But I was still a bit flying high. Even if I hardly said a word during that entire night, I was still already broadening my social circle. I didn't even care that I was watching a bootleg movie, something I generally frown upon, seeing how I'm a film major (ha). I had older friends! Well, acquaintances. Well, nice people who'd invite the awkward freshman to hang out with them.

After SafeRide dropped me off in front of my dorm building that night, a bit after 12 (something else I felt proud of at the time. Big ol' Chanelle practically a veteran already, hanging out in New York City past midnight, something I hardly even got to do in High Point), I decided that I would check out this picnic the next day. It was something I honestly had decided at Cosi. These Campus Crusaders were interesting people.

In reflection, I find life lessons that had always been there, but am now just truly realizing the meaning of. Such as, when you seek God, things go your way. It's something I've known for awhile, rediscovered back then, but I realize now that it was something that was even apparent back then, though I'm not sure if I knew it. I went to Protestant Worship Night to find a way to keep strong in my faith as I entered college, and God threw in a bonus of giving me away to complete an assignment that had already been stressing me out. He's just amazing like that.

Those days started the progression of the my year that led me to the point that I am now. It's amazing, because of course it seemed like nothing at the time, but if I hadn't have gone to that one meeting, the course of my life of NYU could've been completely different. I wasn't able to go to the Club Fair because I believe it was on a Thursday, when I had my all-day class, so I would not have found out about Cru that way. Even if I had still gone to the Protestant Worship night, if I hadn't have gone to the MoMa that Friday, I surely wouldn't have ended up at Cru, but probably that campus fellowship whose name I still can't remember, and I have no idea why not. Okay, I'm looking back on my old wall posts right now, because I know a guy from the fellowship left me one, inviting me to a meeting. Or maybe it was a message...?

INTERVARSITY! hahaha That's the fellowship. Goodness. Anyway, yeah, I probably would've ended up at Intervarsity, thus leading a completely different existence than I am now.

Moral of the story - A Tisch assignment led to...the formation of BAM?

So pretty much, anybody who has been apart of Club Chanelle has Richard Serra and Writing the Essay to thank for that. Who would've knew? haaaaaaa

The Script of Life

From October 6, 2010

Do you ever stop to think how intricately life’s worked out?

Like, you meet people who are just perfect and do you realize how much had to happen just right in order for you to meet them?

My dad is from the West Indies, my mom from New Jersey.  Both somehow ended up in Maryland during the same time.  My dad was offered jobs in various places, but decided to move to Greensboro, NC.  After five years, we move to the next town over - Jamestown, which puts me in a different school district.

I go to a private school, though.  The same private school that a girl named Beth already attends and that a girl named Carmen eventually attends.  Beth goes to public school in 6th grade.  Carmen and I stay, have every class together in 7th grade, and become great friends.  I get into some trouble that year and decide to transfer schools.

Beth and I happen to be in the same school district.  But in 8th grade, we hardly see each other.  Not like we were really friends at the point, anyway.  Friendly acquaintances at this point, after spending most of 6th grade as “frenemies.”  Half of 9th grade goes by, we hardly see each other.  Second semester of 9th grade, we have the same lunch and one class together.  By the end of the year, I’m grafted into her clique.  By the end of high school, we’re best friends.

Every single other one of my friends from my private school, I eventually lose contact with.  Except Carmen.  By senior year, she’s my best friend, too.  We hardly ever get to see each other, only spent one real year as friends at the same school, yet managed to survive.

When I’m fifteen, my mom decides to take a trip to New York City.  Never having been, I convince her to take her with me, because I have a long weekend when she wants to go.  She agrees and I fall in love at first sight with the city.  I had no real interest in it before I visited, but after that, I know I have to live there some day.  I just have to.

The first time I take my SATs, I send my score to schools based on the choice to major in Biology, go the pre-med track, eventually become a psychiatrist.  By the end of my junior year, I decide I’m going to follow my heart and make movies.  I have a list of schools that will let me play D-1 basketball whilst getting a film education.

Basketball screws me over.  Badly.  Had I been born any other year, my story surely would have been different, but timing and team dynamics and the pool of girls in the class of 2007 just don’t work out my way.  So I abandon D-1 aspirations when it came to choosing a school.

I applied to seven colleges.  I got into all of them.  I choose New York University.

Can’t say much about their back story, but my current roommates - Emily and Nina - they also chose New York University.

Once at NYU, I want to get involved with the Christian community on campus.  I go to an event called “Protestant Praise Night”, where I am promptly grabbed up my Intervarsity.  Another girl and I grab dinner at a dining hall with a few Intervarsity upperclassmen and one of their staff workers, and I figure I’d check out their fellowship.  I liked them, and I definitely wanted other Christians to hang out with.

I also left Protestant Praise Night with a piece of paper advertising a visit to the Museum of Modern Art for free that Friday with a club for Christian artists.  For my school’s orientation, I had to go to the MoMa and write a paper on one of the exhibits.  It was something I was worried about, so I was thanking God for this opportunity to go with people.

I almost left that Friday because I couldn’t find the group I was supposed to be meeting.  Right as I was turning around, I recognized a girl I had seen at the Protestant Praise Night.  That turns out to be the group.  They’re really with Campus Crusade for Christ (that artists’ group was a subset of them).  I go to the MoMa with them, go to dinner afterwards with them, and am invited to hang out a senior’s dorm for a movie even after that.  There’s also a picnic in Central Park the next day that they want me to come to - a gratefully oblige.

From there I’m invited to their large group meeting, and the rest is history.  Intervarsity is forgotten - I am a member of Cru.

Those roommates I mentioned before - they somehow found their way to Cru, too.  At least eight Christian fellowships on New York University’s campus, and we all end up at Cru.

So much has happened to lead me up to this very point in my life - to be sitting in a New York City apartment as a senior at New York University, two of my closest friends sleeping in the next room, and two more best friends down in North Carolina.  And you don’t really think about it, but when you look into the details, it really has all been meticulously planned.

And it’s amazing, because these people in my life - they are perfect for me.  In love with Christ in a world that largely chooses to ignore Him, for starters.

Thousands of people I’ve come across in my life, and the two funniest people I’ve ever experienced are my closest friends.  The only ones I’ve ever met that match my crazy, will behave uninhibited in public without a care, love to bring laughs and entertainment to others so naturally, with my same bizarre and random sense of humor.  What are the odds that people that fit together with me so perfectly would find their way into my life? 6 billion people out there.  And I get along well with plenty of others, but not quite like them.  And I’ve seen other people around and afar and all over the place, and even in those glimpses, I know that people like us are a rarity indeed.

Yet I’ve found them.  And one misstep, and I wouldn’t have.  If my dad had taken a job in Maryland instead of North Carolina, or if we’d never moved from Greensboro to Jamestown or if I just would’ve stayed at my private school like I originally was going to.  I wouldn’t have my best friends - all the memories and the laughs and the support and all else in between.  Perhaps you could say I’d just would have different best friends, but I have a feeling that they wouldn’t have been as perfect.

if I continued to choose to major in Biology (because in that case, NYU wouldn’t have been on my list) or basketball had worked out just a little better for me or if I would have just gone to Intervarsity like I’d originally been inclined to.  There’d be no Girl Conception.  The existence of the Nick Jonas rap is completely contingent on the fact that I had an assignment at the MoMa and was too much of a socially awkward person to have anyone else to go with before that point.  And a million other small choices that added up.  Two of my closest friendships because I went to Campus Crusade for Christ instead of Intervarsity.  I wouldn’t have even heard of Cru had it not been for that moment.  I had to miss Club Fair - my life would have been totally different.

It’s crazy to me - the stakes on which this very moment of my life rest on.  But it’s not so crazy, because these weren’t random occurrences that just happened to work out in my favor.  I don’t believe in chance.  God had his hand on every little detail of my life, guiding everything to lead up to what was meant to be.  And it’s amazing to think that He knew exactly what would lead to what.  And that it’s still happening.  A decision  made tomorrow could lead me to another amazing thing years in the future.  It’s all so intricately woven together, and I must say, God is the most amazing screenwriter.

Looking back on how well everything has worked out - it just strengthens my faith.  It reminds me of how much God is in control.  I love that.  I love Him.  Good night.