In this hour, a trip through the phases of life—childhood to awkward adolescence, first jobs to careers, and big leaps in adulthood. This episode is hosted by Moth Senior Curatorial Producer, Suzanne Rust. The Moth Radio Hour is produced by The Moth and Jay Allison of Atlantic Public Media. Storytellers: Anne McNamee Keels is "not the cool girl" at school. Matthew Dicks finds a friend at McDonalds. Kate Greathead finds out that her dream at age 7 is a nightmare at age 14. Linda Grosser discovers more about herself on a sailboat. Ron Hart loses passion for his dream job. Karen Lascher has a complicated relationship with Mother's Day. Podcast # 914 To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices
Full Episode
This is the Moth Radio Hour. I'm your host, Suzanne Rust. Moth story slams are magical. Each evening has a theme like lost, busted, or love hurts. Brave people from all across the country show up with a five-minute story that relates to the theme and drop their names in a hat for the chance to step on the stage and share it. No notes.
This week's hour, which features stories from these slams, explores how we reflect on our worlds at different ages and stages of our lives, from childhood and teens to adulthood and later life. From personal experience and non-scientific observation, I think it's pretty safe to say that in middle school, confidence levels are not at an all-time high.
So the last thing most kids want is to be the center of attention. Our first storyteller found herself in that position and live to tell the tale. Ann McNamee Keels told this at a Chicago slam where we partner with public radio station WBEZ. Here's Ann, live at the Moth.
My story takes place in 1998 at a school on the south side of Chicago. No joke. But this was a Catholic school on the south side of Chicago, and I was the student. It's 1998. It's April of 1998. Tuesday morning, I am in my polo shirt and my ugly...
uniform skirt with a very heavy backpack full of math, science, and religion textbooks with my head down, getting onto that black top behind the church, behind the school, before the first bell, just kind of quietly slinking in as I normally do before the first bell. To say I was not the cool girl in eighth grade is kind of an understatement, so I'll tell you what I was at this school.
I was the kid who had shown up, transferred to the school in fourth grade, which doesn't sound like a big deal, but at a K through eight Catholic school, it's kind of like I had shown up to the birthday party after the candles had been blown out, you know? Like, songs had been sung, alliances had been formed, and there I was.
Also, no one had told me when I signed up, when I got to this school, I didn't sign up, I was sent there, that... That the main form of like social capital was the sports you could play and the sports teams you were on. And I was the kind of kid who all but broke out in hives if I was like a couple feet from a volleyball. I'm like the opposite of athletic. So I was on zero sports teams.
I was a music theater art nerd at a school with no music theater or art. So... I became the kid who at lunchtime could be found reading a Babysitter's Club book over her peanut butter and jelly instead of talking with my classmates. And my goal was to like, it's April of eighth grade, right? So I'm putting my head down, get through. That's the goal.
So I literally have my head down, getting onto that blacktop. But something weird is going on. I hear, like, weird murmuring when I get there. And I look up, and it seems like all the girls in my grade are looking at me. They are talking, I think, about me. And they are pointing at me. Oh, my gosh. So I look down, like, do I have a stain on my uniform shirt? Did I spill something?
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