The Birthday Party

(The girls actually did "social distance." This pic was just too cute not to include in this post)

Trouble and six of her "besties" celebrated her 15th birthday yesterday with a "socially distanced" pizza party on her mom's patio during an unexpected rainstorm that cooled our desert to a perfect temperature for the outdoor event. Trouble's mom, her aunt, and I were included, but we moved to the front porch of the casita to give the young women the privacy they need at that age.

Trouble decided to not invite any boys to the party, which surprised me because she likes boys, a lot, as in a great deal. But she and her friends told me boys probably couldn't keep the social distancing rules because they were, after all, boys, and it's not in their nature to stay away from them. This wisdom on their part cracked me up.

The lack of boys at the party did not keep the girls from wearing their cutest outfits, make-up, and doing their hair. All but one of the girls had not had a hair cut since April, a tribute to their parents. Trouble was radiant in a short, floral sundress and sandals. They were just what one would expect of a gaggle of young teen women, painfully cute, silly, full of giggles, and easy grins. I did hear some whispers of naked selfies though. I'll talk to Trouble about that later.

They were also, at times, serious, discussing Black Lives Matter, the demonstrations, the pandemic, going back to school. In three years these girls will be my students. I wonder how drastically different their lives, their experience, will be before they enter my classroom or crew their first film projects?

As the party ended, I walked back towards my casita as night crept across the desert and the clouds were clearing. The Strawberry Moon was beaming brightly. The neighborhood was strikingly quiet, everyone in their homes, safe, probably enjoying a snack and watching Netflix. I wandered for a while, marveling at the moonlight and reveling in the night air as it drifted through my flimsy coverup. Then, I heard the sound of footsteps, lightly running up behind me. I turned. It was Trouble. She stopped an appropriate six feet away.

"Sparks," she said, "I told my friends no gifts. When they left I opened yours. Oh my god, thank you, thank you!" With that, she said, "Screw it" and gave me a rambunctious and close hug. My knees almost buckled before I broke her embrace and told her how wonderful she was. As I walked her back to her casita we spoke softly of things that matter to her and things that frighten her. She's fifteen. In some cultures, she'd be considered a woman now. I'm glad, that here, in Tucson, she can still enjoy being a high school teenager.

Finally, I came home, poured a glass of wine, and sat on my patio musing on my teen years under the Strawberry Moon.