The First Time I …

On the occasion of our first time in Arkansas (October 5th, 2019), we collected ‘first time’ stories from attendees of the Meet the Momentary festival in Bentonville. Presented here as a collective scrapbook commemorating everyday firsts, the compiled text is an anonymous list that manifests the fantastic, the mundane, the humorous, and the profound. We used these personal scraps as creative prompts to develop First Things First—our contribution to marking the grand opening of the Momentary. In the spirit of inaugurations, ribbon cuttings, and groundbreakings, First Things First is a ceremony dedicated to you and your firsts.

The first time I ate a hostess cupcake, I realized I had not been missing out. The first time I went to summer camp, I was so homesick; I gagged myself until I threw up so I could honestly tell the nurse I was sick and be sent home. The first time I fell off my bed, I woke up in my parents’ bed and they were rubbing off the rainbow that was painted on my forehead. I missed the rainbow. The first time I got to help my mom cook, I sliced the entire top of my thumb off with a potato peeler––nail and all––down to the first knuckle. The first time I went to a Razorback football game was September 14th, 2019 and they won. The first time I went ziplining, I experienced it with my mom on a trip that brought us closer together. The first time I drank alcohol, I passed out. The first time I enjoyed church, a tornado had blown the building away. The congregation had a picnic on the grounds. I was five years old. The first time I played my violin, I was in third grade and homeschooled because I was very ill. It brought happiness and joy. The first time I woke up, I had food, played piano, and went skydiving. The first time I rode on a zipline was at New Life Ranch. I loved the feeling of climbing up to the top of the pole and strapping onto the frame. It felt like flying over the trees and being free. The first time I had a shot, the lights went out. The first time I walked into a women’s restroom by mistake, I was pleasantly surprised by how comfortable it was. The first time I visited Crystal Bridges, I felt connected to the world. The first time I played in a roller derby mashup was in Dallas, TX. I got to play with some of the best skaters in the country. The first time I swam, I got lost in a whole new world. The first time I sewed was in home economics during my freshman year. I was so proud that I had finished my new pant seems that I brought my lunch friends to show them off. That was when I realized the seams were inside out. I learned how to rip and resew. The first time I gave a speech, I was so quiet nobody could hear me. The first time I went to summer camp, I loved it and wanted to stay all summer. Some of the girls cried for their families. I, on the other hand, loved every minute of being independent. The first time I mountain-biked in Northwest Arkansas, I felt scared and alive. The first time I got drunk, I threw up the entire eight hour drive to Nashville, TN. The first time I went scuba diving, I uncovered a whole new world. I found my breath—my presence—my ability to stay calm under pressure, literally. I found myself. The first time I met my husband, he shook my hand and his eyes lit up, and he would not let go of my hand. I expect the Momentary will be a lot like that for me. The first time I went away to summer camp, I thought I was a world away from my mom, but I was only ten miles from home. I was seven years old. It was such an adventure. The first time I saw a ‘racy’ movie was in a small owner-owned theater with my neighbor-buddy, a very conservative boy, so sweet. We saw Soylent Green (1973) starring Charlton Heston and Edward G. Robinson. It made such an impression on me as it continues to do. The first time I met Glenn, it was magic—a magic that lasted almost thirty years. The first time I drove a car, I was five years old with my grandpa Crowe. It was a 1959 Chevy. The first time I had a pet, it was a black cat named Kitty. The first time I dropped ecstasy/molly was in Eureka Spring at Julie Trayler’s East Mt. cottage. I had communication with Kuwaitis on the TV and saw a UFO. Julie guided me through and said she had never seen such a reaction. The first time I contemplated existence, I imagined everything disappearing into a dot and fading out, like our TV did when turned off in 1964. The first time I ever got pulled over, I didn’t have my license. With my little brother in the car, the cop told us not to worry. He was Hispanic. Also, he became my panic when he pulled his gun. The first time I fell, I ate gravel. The first time I felt free, I drove five hours across the state. The first time I made went made out with a boy at the beach (so romantic), I had braces and bit his lip. The next morning he had a blue lip. The first time I started drawing, I felt amazed. I realized I had a talent and I knew I could put my feelings on paper through art. The first time I rode a pony, I got thrown off. The first time I broke the law, I stole Chapstick from the convenience store when I was five years old. The first time I rode a bike without trainers, I felt free. The first time I kissed a girl, I knew that I hadn’t been lying to myself. The first time I held by newborn son was magical and breathtaking. No love can compare to the love a mother has for their children. The first time I realized I was queer was in the fourth grade. I tried to tuck my genitals back inside my body to get rid of them and was upset it didn’t work. The first time I went to a concert was in 1967 in Tulsa, OK: The Supremes and the warmup group was the Lovin Spoonful. This was a huge awakening to live performance. I’ve been hooked on music and art ever since. Later, Led Zeppelin. The first time I gave my husband a surprise birthday party was on November 9th for the Crystal Bridges pre-opening. His family from New Jersey City, Nashville, and Illinois came to town to celebrate. Never surprise a seventy-year-old. I thought he was going to pass out when saw people he would never expect. The first time I came to Arkansas for a visit, we bought our first farm. I went into the barn on the farm that produced milk for Kraft. Yesterday was the first time I met Nicholas Cave. I drove him from the airport. The first time I took a trip to the US from England was in 1983. Met my wife and decided to stay. The first time I revealed, I couldn’t believe it. The first time I bought a car with my savings, I was twenty five and felt like “I have adulted.” The first time I kissed, I thought I was going to die. The first time I heard this: “Identity is the narrative of the self.” The first time I saw my cat, who herself cannot see, I fell in love for the second time. The first time I experienced Aldi’s grocery, I was terrified. I had no idea of my own bagging groceries, buying a cart; like all “first times” I felt intimidated and humiliated. The first time I opened a restaurant, I almost lost my mind. The first time I performed in public, I had a panic attack on stage, then finished my interpretive dance and threw up. The first time I jumped from the cliffs at Dierkes Lake (Twin Falls, ID), I knew I had a bit of crazy thrill-seeker in my soul. The first time I made kombucha, I forgot I was making kombucha and it rotted. The first time I stayed up all night, I couldn’t go to sleep for three days. The first time I piloted a plane, I felt terrified and limitless. The first time I ate a pickle, I was twenty eight and I had paid seven dollars for a sandwich. I figured it was a high-dollar accompaniment so I couldn’t waste it. I liked it. The first time I experienced the loss of a loved one, I felt the true power of life’s beauty. The first time I flew in a plane, I was excited by the view and scared by the turbulence. The first time I ran a marathon, I thought, “Wow, that was really far.” The first time I started going to roller derby, I was so nervous, but even more excited, because I’ve always wanted to do derby. I love my team, my family, and skating. The first time I led a spontaneous flash mob, it was to a remix of “Who Let the Dogs Out,” and my nineties-baby-self was so proud. The first time I experienced a French kiss, I was grossed out completely (in the seventh grade), and ran to wash my mouth out. The first time I saw my wife, I was mesmerized and could not think of anything else until I convinced her to go on a date with me. The first time I had a patient of my own in labor and delivery nursing, the look in their eyes was seeking answers. It was amazing to look back. I’d estimate I have been present at so many births and in baby books, too many to count. To be present at a pivotal moment—awesome, in the full meaning. The first time I loved a dog, I realized how much he did for me. Giving love to one who shows unconditional appreciation is easy. But, I learned from him that loving the imperfect me is complete and more fulfilling than me loving him, the perfect. He was perfect. I miss him. The first time I felt like I could really read, I felt so powerful and whole. The first time I fell in love, I didn’t realize how much it hurts. The first time I showed up to a roller derby practice, I was so afraid of watching these girls skate so fast and hit each other so hard that some would fall. I was petrified. Then they picked themselves up and hugged. I knew I had found a home at that moment. The first time I played roller derby, I was extremely nervous and scared. I have gotten so much better and, although not the best, my fears and nerves have gotten better. The first time I fell in love, I knew it wasn’t supposed to last and it didn’t. The first time I was asked to resign from a non-profit because I was “unhappy,” I got a lawyer and challenged them on the grounds of unfair racial treatment. The first time I traveled to Northwest Arkansas, I arrived on a Greyhound bus across the street from where I live now. The first time I kissed a dude. The first time I smoked pot, I was in my late twenties and was pretty sure “it wasn’t working,” until the sound of my AC unit started sounding really interesting. The first time I felt at home was my first time in Northwest Arkansas––left Wyoming and Texas. Unlike my first kiss when I bit their tongue, I felt like AR would never bite back. The first time I received a paycheck, I asked to frame it instead of deposit it. Thanks Wayne and Sharon of Buy Floral on the Square. The first time I made Thanksgiving dinner for my family—roasting the turkey to baking the pies—I found a deeper appreciation for my mother and grandmother. Ps. It was delicious. The first time I had an ultrasound, I jumped off the table and to my feet because we immediately saw not one, but two babies—twin mom. The first time I got hit in the face by a teammate, I was shocked and found it quite funny. The first time I dreamt of flying, my body was utterly weightless. I floated over clear water, watching the fish school. I had to remember not to fall. The first time I knew I was taller than my sister was when I was in fourth grade. I was standing next to her in our bathroom after we got into a fight. The first time I felt recognition for my talent, I felt like something that brought me joy could also be enjoyed by strangers. The first time I sang karaoke, I was nervous, but I realized I really loved it. I continued to do it and have gotten over all that fear. The first time I fell in love, like really lost my mind, lost who I was, lost everything for someone. I felt like the world was lucky to hold me, to witness this, the truest of love, explosive, eternal, forever. The first time I rode a roller coaster, I got seated in the rear and they thought it was a good idea. The first time I played rugby, I discovered my passion, my inner warrior, and fell in love. The first time I kissed my boyfriend, I had never been so nervous for anything. The first time I saw my husband Barry, I thought he was so handsome and I asked someone, “Who is that good looking guy?” About fifteen years later, I married him. The first time I taught a class, I figured out what I’m made for. The first time I went skydiving, I did flips. The first time I swam with sharks, I fed them chum. The first time I went to a concert, I developed a lifelong love of live music. The first time I rode a bicycle, I crashed into a curb because my mother said that’s how you stop. She didn’t teach me what brakes where. The first time I did gymnastics, I fell a lot of times but got up again. The first time I rode a jet ski, I flipped it and flew into the water headfirst. The first time I bungee jumped, I was in the jungle. The first time I traveled alone, I had the best trip of my life. The first time I did rock climbing at a place called CLIMB, I felt so scared, yet excited. I eventually made it to the top of the pathway. It was awesome. The first time I ran for city council, I lost my race. I decided to run again and became the first Latina elected to city council in Arkansas. The first time I saw you my wife rotate in rotary … man, could she rotate and passed the rotary test. The first time I fired a gun, I was shooting an M16 in the US Army. My drill sergeant asked if I’d ever shot a gun before and I replied, “A water gun.” The first time I got drunk, I was nine years old and my parents were trying to get me occupied on a car trip with Boone’s Farm Strawberry Hill. They were actually really good parents. This was just a lapse of judgement. The first time I heard the words—“You are cancer free”—I was filled with the wonderment of life and remembered what it was like to be a child seeing things for the first time. The first time I jumped out of an airplane, I smiled, wet my pants, closed my eyes, prayed, and jumped. The first time I rode a horse, I loved it immediately. The first time I flew a helicopter, I crashed. The first time I went on a rollercoaster, I was terrified. The first time I shaved my legs, I cut my finger so bad that I needed stitches. I lied to my mom about it.