This is the first time I have ever had my words and photos published this year. I just wanted to say something about the experience. It's a very confusing experience to go out and work on a story and have less than 24 hours to come up with words that will impact someone. I am not always on time in my life, but this was important to me and I specifically spent the majority of my Sunday evening working on my article after I finished photographing a story on a clown named Coco. After several edits and forcing a lot of friends to read my article, I smiled as I submitted it three minutes before the deadline: a first.
Weeks went by and I waited anxiously for it to come out. I couldn't wait to see my name printed, my words on the pages surrounded by my photos. When it finally was published and placed around the school, I excitedly picked up an issue and leafed through it looking for Coco's story. I came across the one page of words. It seemed short, but I kept reading. The farther I read the more I realized that these really weren't my words. I mean the shell of the article was my words by the fluff, the wonderfully charming quotes and heartwarming jokes that Coco was full of was missing.
I closed the magazine and pouted on my way home.
...I mentioned how anticlimactic it all was. I mean here I went and put my personal feelings in this story (which wasn't even a serious topic) and my words were just notes to whomever actually wrote my article. Later on I found that my witty remarks were cut and taken as the captions of the the photos on the second page. They were still there, but there were too many in a row, it was too much in my opinion.
And so I am here to offer my real story of Coco. I've had a lot of different kinds of people tell me different things. "Those aren't your words! You need to talk to them." "This isn't that big of a deal, editors do those things." "These kind of things happen in the business." etc. I'm not really sure what to do at this point. I wasn't paid. The changes were not run by me, not that I am naive enough to believe they would do that.
Please read and enjoy. Let me know what you think of the article or the situation. And lastly, thank you for always accepting my words just the way they are. I'm not the best writer, but that's all part of who I am and it should be embraced by my readers.
Coco
By Kristina Subsara
Syracuse has succumbed to the changing colors that are brought when Fall arrives. Walking into Liverpool’s local Farmer Market I am greeted by the smell of warm apple cider and popcorn mingling with the laughter and small cries of joy from kids. The sun peeks out of the clouds enough to remind people it’s only the beginning of the fall season. The market has horse rides, face painting, a haunted house, a maze, and even a clown named Coco.
Judging by the line that meanders through the greenhouse, Coco is the star. She has an easy smile that goes well with her little red nose. She stands smiling at the kids asking them what kind of balloon they would like. The shy kids break into grins quickly as they watch her create all different kinds of animals.
Coco’s wearing striped stockings, large shoes, and feathers that billow in her hair; enough to indicate she’s a clown but she’s not intimidating at all as she cocks her feet out and strikes a pose before asking the kids what balloon she can make for them. Once they tell her, she pumps a balloon and starts twisting it in concise movements. It’s clear she knows what she’s doing. After all, she’s been perfecting her art for 25 years now. Coco taught herself at first, then started going to clowning conventions and eventually enrolled in clown school. “They call us ‘Ba-lunatics’ when we get together.” Original balloon ideas win prizes and this inspires her to create new things.
The most popular balloons she creates are simple swords, asking boys if they are pirates or Knights of the Round Table. Finishing a knight’s sword gives her the opportunity to bestow her blessing on the brave lad. Laughing, she cries out “hold your horses” if they reach for it before she finishes.
Coco even keeps her calm when disaster strikes and a balloon pops. Taking the pieces she says the balloon is still under warranty. She hands the new balloon back, warning them not to name it Buster. “My favorite part is watching their face light up when I hand them their balloon.”
Clowning is indeed an art that she has perfected; however it’s her people skills that get her the jobs as she smiles and gestures “Thank You” in sign language to a small boy.
Her act comes to an end and I can’t help but look around and see everyone she has made an impression on. The memories will last much longer than the balloons, but like Coco said, “They don’t call it ‘Pop Art’ for nothing.”
