MAYA BHAT: The door opens next to me.

Holy cow, there's a lot of wind!

I can barely hear what I'm saying.

How am I supposed to jump out of the plane?

This is nuts!

ELAINE GOLDEN: Why is he being nice to me right now?

I hate that.

Doesn't he know I stole his spot?

WILLIAM PAIK: What is she gonna do if she finds out the truth, that I don't want to be in this relationship?

THERESA OKOKON: Tonight's theme is "Whatever It Takes."

Sometimes getting what you want doesn't come from a clear path.

You have to negotiate, improvise, nudge life along so that you get it to move forward.

Tonight's storytellers are sharing those moments when creativity met determination, when they needed to figure something out, build a case, take a risk, and make things happen.

♪ ♪ GOLDEN: My name is Elaine Golden.

I'm originally from South Florida, and I now live in Chicago.

I am a stand-up comedian and a math tutor.

So much of your life is focused on helping students understand math.

What do you enjoy about that work?

Tutoring is really rewarding for me.

Each student feels like their own little puzzle.

Mm-hmm.

And it's really fun to, when they come to me, to get to figure out where the gaps that they have are, and then, over the course of working with them, or even in a day, fill in those gaps and help them feel more confident.

And I understand that you also host a comedy show in Chicago.

Can you talk about what inspired you to create that space?

Yeah, I host a show.

It's called "Lavender Laugh Lounge," and it's a show for women and LGBTQ comedians.

It's really special to have a space to perform where you can just be an individual.

Mm.

GOLDEN: And it's nice to, to get to perform in a place where you're really yourself, and it's really great to make that opportunity for other performers in Chicago.

It's middle school.

You know, the greatest time of your life.

(laughter) For me, in eighth grade, it's pretty close, because I'm in jazz band.

I love jazz band.

The music, it's like regular band, if everyone was in a recliner with an umbrella in their drink.

(laughter) I'm in the trumpet section.

My friends are all with me.

My friend Matt, he is the best trumpet player.

I am not very good.

I'm actually kind of bad.

It doesn't bother me, though, because jazz band's the one place I'm not trying to be the best.

I save that for all of my academic classes.

In my academics, I am going for the top.

I'm trying to be valedictorian, straight As.

Not in jazz band.

Jazz band's about having fun with my friends.

It's ninth grade, I'm in high school, which should be really exciting, except I'm the only trumpet player from my middle school at this high school.

It's really hard to connect with the other trumpet players.

I tell myself, "It's okay.

"Once I get into jazz band, I'll find the trumpet players that I really get along with."

I audition for the jazz band.

I don't get in.

Maybe there's no jazz band for me in high school.

It's almost the end of the year, and I get some news that a new, third high school is opening up in my area, and it's in my district to go to that school.

I know what this means.

(audience chuckles) New high school, new jazz band.

(laughter) At this high school, I'm doing whatever it takes to get into the jazz band.

My friend Matt is back.

I beg him, "Matt, teach me this audition music."

He's working with me after class.

I play the piece for him terribly.

He doesn't judge me.

He just works with me measure by measure to get it down.

I really appreciate all of the time he's taking to help me get in.

And I see in him what it takes to be a great jazz musician.

He has this composure and confidence, and he does this thing where he always hits the notes.

(laughter) Like, every time.

Now I'm hitting the notes for the first time.

(laughter) I think I could probably get third chair in the jazz band.

That would be incredible-- Matt will obviously be first.

The best improviser gets second.

Third chair, the notes are lower, they're much easier to play-- that's for me.

(audience chuckles) I'm in the band director's office for the audition.

The door is shut, it's just us two in there.

I walk in with that composure and confidence that I've learned from Matt.

And in the privacy of the room, I use a little bit more.

I use Matt's stance, his sway, and I use a couple of his licks, because that'll get me in.

Everyone's done auditioning.

We're all back in the band director's office.

He's announcing the results from last chair to first, like it's a beauty pageant.

(audience chuckles) He gets to the trumpets.

Fourth chair, not me.

He says, "Third chair goes to Matt."

I didn't get in.

Again.

I want to get out of that room, I feel the tears behind my eyes.

I hear someone say my name-- it's the band director.

I'm first chair.

(cheers and applause) I'm in!

I'm not just in, I am top dog!

(laughter) I'm basically the valedictorian of jazz band.

(laughter) I look over to Matt.

He will not look back at me.

(audience murmurs) He's mad, I think.

But I earned this.

In the audition, the director saw what I did, and he picked me for first.

He wouldn't make a mistake.

And if he did, what would somebody do?

Tell a teacher they're not as good as the teacher thinks they are?

I would never do that.

No, you rise to the occasion of top dog.

I'm at the first rehearsal.

The trombone player in front of me hands me the new sheet music.

The notes are really high.

They are higher than I've ever played.

And we all start making our way through the piece.

But I cannot keep up.

In jazz, you're supposed to be on the off-beat.

I'm so far off the off-beat, I'm back on the downbeat.

(laughter) The notes, they're swirling around me.

The band director, he is gesturing for me to play louder and louder, which makes sense, because I am barely playing at all.

He stops the entire band.

Has me play my part.

By myself.

Badly.

Then again, worse.

I'm, I'm freaking out.

I've got sweat running down my back.

Everybody is watching me.

I know Matt is watching, but I can't even look to check.

Before this, I thought the worst thing in the world was not getting into the jazz band.

No, this is much worse.

Rehearsal is over, I'm... I'm out of there-- I am quitting.

Somehow, Matt, he catches up to me.

He says, "Hey.

"That was really rough back there.

But you're gonna get it."

Why is he being nice to me right now?

I hate that.

Doesn't he know I stole his spot?

Well, he doesn't know, but I know.

And every time he's nice to me, it makes me feel worse.

Because the truth is, Matt is a really good friend.

And I want to be a good friend back.

I got to do something more embarrassing than what's already happened at that rehearsal.

I'm back in the band director's office.

I tell him, "I am not good enough to be first chair.

"Everything I did in that audition Matt taught me.

"He should be first chair.

I hope you could keep me in the band."

It's the next rehearsal.

Matt is first chair, where he belongs, and I'm last.

(audience chuckles) The furthest from top dog.

But that doesn't matter, because I'm still in the jazz band with my friend Matt and the other people that will become my good friends.

Thank you.

(cheers and applause) ♪ ♪ BHAT: My name is Maya Bhat.

I was born in Texas.

I grew up in Singapore.

I now live in the Greater Boston area.

For work, I'm an investor at a clean energy venture capital firm.

And having been born here and then growing up in Singapore and coming back to the United States, how would you say that your upbringing sort of shaped the way that you look at the world?

I did go to the Singapore American School, and there was always people coming in and out of, of school.

And so you never knew what type of background someone had.

And I think because of that, I really learned that, you know, you can't assume anything about a person, and you really just gotta shut your mouth sometimes, and listen to their story and listen to what they have to say.

And it's, it's always fascinating to hear about where someone has come from and, and where they're going.

And I understand that this is your first time telling a story on stage in this way.

BHAT: Mm-hmm.

- What was it like for you to, like, craft and, and create your story for tonight?

Oh, it's been fascinating.

And it's all sort of been a very interesting journey to peel back layers of why I personally do things the way I do and what events have resonated with me in my life.

OKOKON: Mm.

- And so I have uncovered more about myself through this process than I really had thought that I might.

OKOKON: Mm.

- I think hopefully that that comes through.

I'm sitting with my dad.

We are planning our trip to New Zealand coming up in five months.

I am in charge of activities.

I've just come across the perfect one, skydiving.

Oh, it would be so fun!

Probably feels like when I'm on the back of my dad's motorcycle or when I'm flipping on the trampoline at gymnastics.

I want to do it so bad.

Okay, requirements.

Perfect-- minimum age 12.

I'm 13!

My little brother, Rishi, probably can't do it, but that's okay.

What else, what else?

Parental permission.

Ooh, okay-- I turn to my dad.

"Hey, Papa, when we're in New Zealand, "can I go skydiving, please?

"I know you and Mama have done it before.

You didn't die-- sounds really fun."

(audience chuckles) He looks at me.

"Maya, that sounds like a great idea.

"I'm okay with it.

But you're gonna have to ask Mama."

"I know, I'll ask her when she comes home."

When my mom gets home from work, I intercept her almost at the door.

"Hey, Mama, when we go to New Zealand, "can I go skydiving, please?

It seems super-fun-- what do you think?"

She looks at me with a smile.

"Absolutely not!

You're 13!

(laughter) "Maybe in a couple of years.

A little too dangerous right now."

(sighs) I go back to tell my dad the news.

"Papa, she said no.

I don't know what I'm gonna do-- I really wanted to go."

"Well, Maya, she is your mother.

She's probably worried that you're gonna die."

"But no, people don't die from skydiving anymore, Dad!

(laughter) It's safe!"

"Well, Maya, if you think that you have an argument, "maybe you have to present that to her.

"You have a decision to make.

Are you gonna take no for an answer?"

What?

No is always the end of the conversation.

That's weird.

I guess I didn't have to take no for an answer.

For the next five days, I go back, I do research.

My mom loves facts.

I am armed with all sorts of facts.

I'm gonna get her to say yes-- I think I can do it.

I present those facts to her.

She doesn't say yes.

What?!

(laughter) Go back to my dad, break the news.

"Papa, she didn't say yes.

"I don't know what I'm gonna do.

I gave her everything.

What else could she have wanted?"

"Well, Maya, she didn't say yes, or did she say no?"

"No, she didn't say no, but she didn't say yes, either."

"This is important.

"If she didn't say no, something you said "must have gotten through to her.

(laughter) "Maybe you have to go back, "figure out what she's still worried about, and then address those concerns."

"Hm.

That's a good idea."

(audience chuckling) I go back to my mom.

I figure out what is it that she's worried about-- almost like an interview.

I take notes.

I do more research.

I come back to her another five days later.

She's sitting at the table doing work.

"Hey, Mama, remember that conversation "we had about skydiving?

Can we have it again?

I've got some information that maybe you'd want to know."

She looks at me, closes her laptop.

"Sure.

What have you got?"

"So these are the five skydiving schools in New Zealand.

"These three have the best reviews.

"And all of their divers are not allowed to do any other jumps "unless they've done at least 10,000 jumps before.

"For the last three years, no safety incidences, "no deaths-- that's pretty good, right?

What do you think?

What do you think?

Can we go?"

(sucks in breath) "I don't know, Maya.

"Something's not right-- I mean, this is good work, "but, uh, I don't feel good about this.

"Maybe... Maybe we could do it together."

Five months later, I'm sitting in the plane.

He's tightening my straps.

My heart is beating so fast.

I can't believe I'm about to jump out of a plane.

Who lets a 13-year-old jump out of a plane?

(inhales, audience laughing) I make eye contact with my mom across the plane.

"Okay, okay, we can do this, we can do this."

The door opens next to me.

Holy cow, there's a lot of wind!

I can barely hear what I'm saying.

How am I supposed to jump out of the plane?

This is nuts!

I feel my mom's hand, pressure on my leg.

"Okay, okay, we can do this."

I look down.

There's no ground, it's just air.

All of a sudden, I get pushed out.

(screams) I'm falling faster than I've ever fallen before.

The wind is blowing past my cheeks.

(imitates) Everything's moving, I can't hear anything.

What is going on?

And then... (makes sound effect) The chute is pulled.

Silence.

It's peaceful.

I'm looking around.

Those, those are mountains-- that, that's cool.

Oh, little sheepies, they're so cute, look at them.

Oh, and that's my mom, she's coming down right behind me.

My feet hit the ground, my mom's feet hit the ground.

I run to her, I jump on her.

"We did it!

And survived!

"Oh, my God, Mom!

"That was crazy!

"Was your heart beating as fast as mine was?

"I didn't think I was gonna be able to do it.

"Did you think you were gonna be able to do it?

"Last time, when you did it with Papa, was it the same thing?

"I cannot wait to tell my friends.

"They're not gonna believe this.

"That was so cool.

You are so cool.

Let's go tell Papa and Rishi."

(audience chuckles) 17 years later, I am so grateful that my mom shared that experience with me.

I'm so grateful she gave me that support in the plane that I didn't know I needed.

I'm grateful to my dad for coaching me through how to get her to say yes.

You know, there's a lot of things that people say are scary in this world, and most of them won't kill you.

(laughter) It's pretty cool.

I'm still an adrenaline junkie, though, so the next thing I'll probably have to do, gotta convince my mom to go bungee jumping with me.

(laughter) Thank you so much.

(cheers and applause) ♪ ♪ PAIK: My name is William Paik.

I am originally from Massachusetts, I grew up in the Natick, Framingham, Wayland area, and I currently live in Chicago, Illinois.

I am a grad student at Northwestern University and I do stand-up comedy at night.

So I understand you're studying rhetoric and communications.

Yes.

OKOKON: Can you tell me about what drew you to that research?

PAIK: Hm, well, I was interested in, like, politics, vaguely, and stand-up comedy.

So I was, like, okay, why not see if I could make a "career" studying stand-up?

(Okokon chuckles) So while related, storytelling and comedy are separate crafts.

What is it like for you to be practicing now in this craft of storytelling?

This was hard.

(laughs): It was super-hard.

With stand-up, you're very much able to be in your head and you're supposed to get a certain specific wording down.

But this was, like, oh, you're actually not gonna know what you're gonna say.

And you have to be in touch with your body in a way that I just was not expected to be.

But I, I'm walking away with a new appreciation for storytelling and the, the craft of it.

I am seven years old.

I hear noises in the room next to me.

It's my parents-- they're arguing again.

This time, it's really bad.

I know it's bad because I hear my dad leave the house.

He gets in the car, he drives away.

That doesn't usually happen.

I should check on my mom.

I go into the living room, I see her.

She's lying on the couch, staring straight forward.

She does not look at me-- I wish she would look at me.

I have to start the conversation.

I go, "Mom, are you okay?"

She's not-- she starts complaining about my dad for the next two hours.

I'm there, I'm scared.

I don't know what I'm supposed to do-- do I leave?

I don't want to be here.

I want to go back in my room.

But I stay, for her and for me.

My dad comes back later that night.

We all go to sleep.

I'm 23 now.

I just graduated college, I'm in a relationship that I don't really want to be in.

I kind of said yes to a bunch of things, a bunch of dates.

And then now we're here, three years later.

(laughter) The first two years, we were living together in person.

This year, she went off to med school.

I'm here in Chicago applying to jobs.

We're long-distance.

We're sitting in a Zoom room.

I see her face on the computer screen.

I ask her a question, I go, "Are, are we dating to get married?"

(laughter) She did not like that.

Her eye twitches-- she goes, "Of course!

Why wouldn't we be dating if it wasn't to get married?"

I don't want to get married-- I don't know, I'm 23.

I still need to figure that out.

But I can't tell her that.

If I told her that-- she was so mad at the question, what is she gonna do if she finds out the truth, that I don't want to be in this relationship?

I need a way out.

How do people break up?

Well, all my friends, they broke up when they went to study abroad.

They did that-- it was so easy.

I could do the same exact thing.

I find a program.

It's a study abroad to South Korea.

(laughter) Perfect.

(laughter) My parents are from South Korea.

I get to be in touch with my roots.

I get to come up with my own project.

I'll study stand-up comedy in South Korea.

There's a scene-- I could totally do that.

The most important part of this project-- they don't have this on the application-- I get to break up with my girlfriend.

(laughter) I'm sitting in the Zoom room again.

I thought I would sound cool, I thought it would be easy.

But I am stumbling over my words like a late-night host who lost all his index cards.

"Uh, I don't know if, uh... "One year is a really long time, and I don't know if I'm going to..." She stops me, she looks at me, she goes, "Are you breaking up with me?"

Tears are in her eyes.

My silence is enough of an answer.

She didn't yell at the time, but it hurt as much as if she yelled.

She goes, "How could you?

We spent three years together.

I wasted three years of my life being with you?!"

(laughter) In my mind, I go, "Yeah, you did.

(laughter) "But I, I did, too.

I'm sorry."

But the Zoom call ends.

The relationship ends.

I'm in South Korea, it's October.

I'm sitting at an open mic, I see a beautiful woman.

She is the host of this open mic.

I go up to her.

We start flirting, we start talking.

We start talking about where we went to school.

I go, "What did you study in school?"

She goes, "I studied anthropology.

What did you study in school?"

I go, "I studied English literature."

(audience chuckles) I want you guys to know I'm embarrassed about that fact, okay?

I wish I studied something that made more money.

But it, I'm here, in front of her.

(audience chuckles) But she's not embarrassed.

She looks at me, she goes, "Oh, English literature?

"That's, that's kind of hot.

(laughter) I like that."

I'm in love.

(laughter) That night, I walk her home-- I don't know what it is.

I'm flirting for the first time in a while.

I haven't done that since I was in high school.

I feel cool.

Me, smooth?

(audience chuckles) That's crazy.

I walk her home, I drop her off at her doorstep.

We kiss.

The next week, we start dating.

Nine months later, I'm back in the U.S.

She followed me on a travel visa.

We're sitting in my studio apartment.

I have a mattress on the ground and a desk.

And these two bits of furniture were a miracle to get into this room.

She looks at me, she goes, "I love being with you.

"I'm also getting older, I'm 33.

I want to have a child with you, soon."

(laughter) In my head, I wasn't expecting any of that.

A child?

I can't have a child!

I'm 26, I'm a child myself!

But a lot of my friends, they had kids when they were 26.

I, maybe I could be like one of them, maybe.

But also, I feel like I want to see more people.

I feel like I want to date other people.

I don't think I got to discover who I am in this relationship yet.

We argue every day after this.

I'm not good enough in Korean to argue.

She's not good enough in English to argue.

So to make our arguments make sense, we type out what we're going to say on an iPad, pass it to the other person... (laughter) ...and translate it using the translation function on Google Docs.

(laughter) I type out one paragraph.

It goes like this: "I don't know if marriage is right for me.

"I, I don't know.

"My parents argued a lot, and it didn't really give me "a good sense of what marriage could be like.

"I also think I might be poly, I'm not sure.

"There's a lot that I'm not sure about, "and I don't know if I'm gonna be able to figure that out "if I have a kid with you.

"I'm sorry I can't give you what you want.

Sorry."

I pass the iPad over to her.

I am terrified.

Every muscle in my body tenses up.

I don't want to watch her read it, but I can hear her.

She goes, "Oh.

"Oh.

"I see.

I understand."

"You do?"

"Yeah-- I don't like it, but I understand."

We have to break up-- we come up with a plan.

She goes, "I will go back to South Korea.

"I'll leave the iPad with you.

"You borrow it for a year-- you have a year.

"Borrow a year to figure out whatever is wrong with you.

(laughter) "When a year is over, come back to South Korea.

Give me the iPad."

I return to South Korea after a year.

I date a bit-- I still don't know who I am.

I give her the iPad.

We date for a bit.

It's not the way forward.

It's not right for me, it's not right for her.

It's not right for any of us.

I go back to the U.S.

We break up.

I'm sitting in my studio apartment-- I have a chair now.

(laughter) I am alone.

More alone than I've ever been in my life.

It hurts in my stomach, it hurts in my throat.

But I made the right choice.

For her and for me.

I can finally live my life authentically.

Thank you.

(cheers and applause) OKOKON: The "Stories From the Stage" podcast, with extraordinary true stories, wherever you listen to podcasts.

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