Author Biography

Karina Dyches has loved writing since before she can remember. It is her favorite art medium and method of communication. When not writing or reading old classical novels, she loves to spend time with her family and friends, design things digitally, and work as an architectural drafter. You’ll probably see her wandering around campus with her walker and her service dog, Daisy, for the next decade as she pursues a Bachelor’s degree in Creative Writing.

This essay was composed in February 2024 and uses MLA documentation.

“Well, at least it looked like a graceful fall.” The voice, deep and pleasantly kind, came from behind me. Belonging to a friend I’ve known for almost a decade, I knew he was being sincere and not laughing at me, but still, I continued to giggle in embarrassment.

“Yeah,” I agreed over my shoulder, “I should hope so. I’ve literally practiced falling.”  Still laughing from embarrassment, I moved to where my cooling hot chocolate waited. Thoughts of my assertion that I’d practiced falling lingered, though. It was true. As a child learning to walk, I had spent just as many hours learning to fall correctly. In the beginning, I would just topple over like a felled tree, the back of my head receiving the brunt of my fall. Through years of physical therapy, it is thankfully instinctual to protect my head when I fall. Most of the time, I can brush off my falls by saying that I “accidentally sat down.” It is both an accurate description and a way to soften the blow to my pride.

I suppose you are wondering, as my reader, why (or how) I remember something so mundane as learning how to walk (and fall). Lest you think that I am some sort of superhuman being with an abnormally vivid memory, let me inform you that I took my first independent steps (without the support of a hand or a walker to rely on) the day before my eighth birthday. Taking independent steps at all was amazing because I have athetoid cerebral palsy, which means that when I tell one muscle to move, many others move as well. As a result, I fall frequently, often multiple times daily.

In the preceding paragraphs, I have talked about falls and falling in sense of what Merriam-Webster describes as, “the act of falling by the force of gravity” and “descend[ing] freely by the force of gravity” (Definition of FALL). These are very physical uses of the word “fall” and conjure up images that shape my daily world.

—

In the Judeo-Christian tradition, one of the earliest events recorded in human history is known as The Fall, where Adam, the first man on Earth, and Eve, his wife, the first woman on Earth, ate the fruit God had forbidden them to eat. Because they did so, weeds, sorrow, pain, and death entered the world (“Adam and Eve”). Many other cultures have similar stories as well, like Pandora’s Box in Greek/Roman mythology (Hamilton 88) and Kintu and Naambi from the Buganda tribe in Africa (Baskerville). They all describe “pass[ing] into a worse state than the former; … as, to fall into difficulties” (Webster), which is one definition of fall in Noah Webster’s dictionary published in 1828.

This is an entirely different sort of fall than the physical act of falling, yet I have experienced it as well, though gratefully not as often. Making a mistake that I know I should not make but make anyway feels like falling. Getting up from this kind of fall can be much, much harder than the other kind mentioned before. Rather than share a specific experience of when I fell in this manner (because I’ve found such stories to be very personal and not always the most relatable), let me share a real-life analogy to illustrate my point. It happened a little over three years ago while I was serving as a service missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Soon after the incident, I shared the experience on Facebook, writing,

The sound, something between a pop and a crash, followed a mere instant after the red-and-white, candy-cane-striped string slipped from my hand. I stared in disbelief at what had been my new ornament, given to me by my service mission leaders and therefore destined to be a mission souvenir. The more I stared at and thought about the destruction at my feet, the more I wanted to cry.

I went to my mom because I needed a hug, the kind only mothers can give. As I took comfort in her care and sympathy, Mom suggested that I text Sister Boren, the dear sister service mission leader who had given it to me not a week earlier, just to see if she might have an extra outer piece. It was an excellent idea, but still I felt sad, embarrassed, defiant, and in denial over the whole thing. Soon, however, I decided it wouldn’t hurt anything to ask.

And guess what? Sister Boren had one ornament outside left over and gladly gave it to me! I, with my siblings’ help, carefully saved the dots and papers to go inside and the next day, when I received the new outer piece, my sweet younger sister helped me reassemble my memorable ornament.

You know, our lives sometimes feel like this ornament. We feel all new and bright, and then, we fall, fall a few short feet – or less – and our lives are in shambles at our feet. We may feel embarrassed, or defiant, or even in denial over the whole thing. That is when we need to turn to those who love us, however hard it may be, and allow them to [help us] fix it…(Dyches).

Just like how my ornament fell and was restored, our lives can be rebuilt even after a heart-wrenching fall. Sometimes it takes time. Sometimes it seems like the bruises of the heart and soul heal slower than those on the body. But it’s our response to these falls that shape and mold our characters more than anything else. Do we get back up, dusting ourselves off, or do we dangle helplessly off the ledge, the way they do in the movies?

It puts me in mind of the downfall of Henry Crawford in Jane Austen’s Mansfield Park. In love with the heroine (a lady who was, in their strict class system, his social inferior, but infinitely his moral superior), he realized how much better he needed to be to have a chance with her. He began to change, gradually, until he was near to being able to impress her. In fact, he left her side to carry out a noble task of which she approved and which he never would have thought of before. It was at this critical moment that Temptation, in company with Ease and old Habit, presented themselves. He fell to their invitation and ultimately it cost him “the woman whom he had rationally as well as passionately loved” (Austen 424).

Henry Crawford fell, first in the sense of “commit[ing] an immoral act” (Definition of FALL) which led him “into a worse state than the former” (Webster). He was striving to better himself, but he abandoned that quest. I, too, have a higher ideal I reach for and I, too, sometimes fall short of that ideal. But I don’t think this fictional antagonist is a tragic figure of doom for all. He is a caution sign, warning us of the consequences of not correcting ourselves when we begin to fall. So I ask again, are we going to get back up, dusting ourselves off, or are we going to dangle helplessly off the ledge, the way they do in the movies?

Our lives are our own to do with what we will, but I can tell you it’s much better when you face your fears and failures and overcome that ledge.

—

Perhaps the most devastating fall of my life occurred in early autumn of 2016. I was fifteen years old and was just gaining my confidence in walking independently outside. I still use my walker in public, even now, but sometimes it just doesn’t work well, like on hikes or in corn mazes. On a warm just-barely-not-summer’s night, my family and I decided to navigate our way through a local corn maze. Anxious to exercise and test my newfound ability, I was happily walking on my own amid the crowd of siblings, cousins, grandparents, mom, aunt, and friends, when we reached the first crossroads. We children milled around as the adults deliberated on the best strategy moving forward: splitting up into fast, slow, and slower? taking turns choosing a direction? buddy system? Long story short, I heard two different directions in a matter of minutes and, quickly turning, ended up falling, my right shoulder hitting the compacted dirt below. It was impossible to move my right arm painlessly the rest of the evening. When it was not any better the next morning, my dad brought me to the ER where we learned that my clavicle (my collarbone) was broken. Then I fell in an entirely different way. I was crushed. It was humiliating to suddenly need help dressing again. It was even worse needing to ride in a wheelchair in public because I could not use a walker without both arms working correctly. I was in a dark place.

Oddly enough, what pulled me out of it was misplaced pity. I’d fallen on a Friday night and Monday morning, after I’d been to one of my classes for the day, I learned that my sweet grandmother thought I’d be stuck in bed for six weeks straight. It made me laugh so hard that I forgot all about my self-pity for a moment and let me see how silly I was being. The next month or so was still hard, but I just needed to remember where Grandma thought I’d be and I’d smile. I also learned some valuable life skills during that time, such as drinking and eating with my left hand and finding strength within. It became a life-shaping experience.

Oh, and I made it all the way through that corn maze – with a broken collarbone!

Falling is a part of life. We all fall, and we all must learn to get up again. Sometimes falling brings pain, sometimes it merely brings embarrassment. But if we meet it with a smile, sometimes falling helps us stand taller in the end.

Works Cited

“Adam and Eve.” Old Testament Stories, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 2021, pp. 13–16, www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/eng/manual/old-testament-stories-2022/adam-and-eve. Accessed 30 Jan. 2024.

Austen, Jane. Mansfield Park. Illustrated ed., North Parade Publishing Limited, 2010.

Baskerville, Rosetta Gage (Harvey) “Mrs George Baskerville “. “The Story of Kintu.” The King of the Snakes and Other Folk-Lore Stories from Uganda, 1922, pp. 4–7, archive.org/details/baskerville-king-of-snakes-1922. Accessed 30 Jan. 2024.

Definition of FALL. 29 Jan. 2024, www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/fall.

Dyches, Karina. “Facebook Post.” Facebook, 19 Dec. 2020, www.facebook.com/karina.dyches.1/posts/pfbid0wSfpM9AHKqZnzL1vGPwVwLuD6238iXAKPVamGg6byUA1925Jh7vJ178srTRs7JtPl. Accessed 30 Jan. 2024.

Hamilton, Edith. Mythology. 1st Back Bay pbk. ed, Back Bay Books, 1998.

Webster, Noah. “Fall.” Noah Webster’s First Edition of an American Dictionary of the English Language, 6th ed, Foundation for American Christian Education, 1989. Library of Congress ISBN, webstersdictionary1828.com/Dictionary/fall. Accessed 30 Jan. 2024.