“I am Still Looking for a Headline”

• By: Amira Gamil – Deputy Editor-In-Chief

“If you live to the age of 18, you have lived enough stories to last you a lifetime,” the sound of Professor Tahia Abdel Nasser saying this quote by Flannery O’Connor in my creative writing class rings in my ears.

There was something so poetic about stumbling across this quote exactly a week before my 21st birthday. It made me realize that even if the balloons are placed and the candles are blown, I still won’t feel a day past 18.

What makes this even funnier is that this past year alone gave me enough stories to last a lifetime; good and bad. But as a girl who grew up reading novels and fan- fiction and binge watching the cringiest young adult shows, it makes perfect sense that I often get tempted to live a good story. Do it for the plot, don’t they say? As a journalist, it’s so normal and rather ambitious to dream of living a life so fulfilling that it makes you write hundreds of op-eds in a glimpse.

But the real question is: What makes a good story? Is it the setting, characters or the unexpected plot twists that follow one another? Or is it all about the protagonist; who they are and who they will become?

In 2017, the Arabic teacher asked my class: “What are your ambitions?”. She scanned the room looking for any sign of willingness to share and her inquisitive eyes locked with my shy and reserved ones, out of all people. I deemed it too naive of a question to ask a 14 year old, whose only ambition was for the clock to strike 2 so she could finally go home. I shook my head as she searched for her next victim, and I didn’t mind that her question remained unanswered.

But here I am, 21 years old, and all the aspiring podcasters on Instagram are insisting that we must have substantial goals to work towards, while I nod slowly in agreement because indeed, my taste is too expensive and I need a good story to impress my future grandchildren with.

But even if I crossed items off my bucket list, collected souvenirs from all over and hundreds of awards glittered on the walls of my room, I like to think it’s the seemingly mundane things that I will be remembering the most; the things that would make for unnecessary scenes if my life was a sitcom and I just wanted some extra airtime.

I would recall the old man who watched me pick the bluest of bracelets, scanned my arms for any cues for my taste, and then softly told me “You like blue; it means you have a pure soul”.

I would recall choosing to twirl in my parents’ room every morning as a child because the sun hit just right to make enough floating dust and this is the closest thing I could get to having my own pixie dust Disney moment.

I would recall laying on the grass in Alexandria with school friends whose quirks and antics I no longer remember but their giggles from that day are still imprinted in my mind.

Maybe this is it. Maybe we don’t need to be absolute protagonists who lead heroic lives. Maybe we just need to be called pure by a stranger, have our hair caressed by a lifelong friend or get a soul-crushing hug from someone we haven’t seen in a while.

Whether we are 18, 21 or 60, these are the things we will remember, and maybe this is the most heroic story of all.