For me, an autistic individual, being in school or any social situation in general is like playing a character on a sitcom without the episode's script. I'm trying to figure out what I’m supposed to say in a time crunch, and because no one understands my situation, everyone looks at me as if I'm joking around and don't care. Bazinga!!! In reality, all I ever desired was for others to understand me, but no one cares because I'm "just a nuisance.” This cycle is what occurs every day in school. If I'm lucky, I get to spend the scene alone with everyone else as background characters, so I don't need to worry about troubling the cast. With the story outline, known as my IEP, at least the crew, aka my teachers, understand to an extent what's going on, but with some of them, it feels like they only tolerate me and would rather replace my character's actor with Chris Pratt. To them, my story’s outline feels less like something to be taken seriously and more like some work the production assistant gets swamped with. They make me believe that I never should’ve existed within their delusional presence. Despite the obstacles presented by individuals supposedly paid to care, I intend to continue my course; I am more than the limitations I am associated with. If I give up now, what does that prove? All it does is vindicate everyone who wants to bring me to the underworld. There are a few individuals on set who genuinely respect my struggle and assist me. One of those people, coincidentally, is the writer. (my English teacher Mildred). Ever since I met her on this film set, she has always been supportive of me, like when peanut butter was introduced to chocolate. Whenever I make a mistake in class, she understands the difference between it genuinely being my fault and the byproduct of my social obliviousness. She encourages me to be around peers who won’t hold my lack of a script against me, and she’s guided me on making alterations to my story’s outline to better shape my character’s arc. Due to my tendency to quickly spiral into being overwhelmed, Mrs. Mildred strongly suggested I use an accommodation to leave the set and recuperate for a few minutes backstage. It’s teachers like her who encourage me to push past my autistic social complications that help me navigate life without the script. I was already an expression girl, but now I’m able to display myself more complexly, like a 5-year-old learning the difference between violet and purple. If I never got a script, then why not write my own? Learning to express myself has convinced me to become a film director (in the literal sense outside this analogy), someone who can send a message to every set. Working on the school set without a script has almost isolated me, but it does not define who I am because the support of the few who can look past what I lack and help me show what’s in surplus is all I need to go the distance.

Ever since I can remember, I have always been an outcast. No one understood me because I was just the "autistic freak who was a nuisance to others". I didn't have any friends. I didn't know what I was good for in life. That started to change in 8th grade. I took an A.V. class and felt liberated through the craft. Every thought and struggle I had could be released through a camera. Watching shows was my escape; I could tune out all my struggles for a while, but I never considered that they could take a more prominent role. I knew my destiny lay within filmmaking, but I lacked the finer details of it. Did I want to be a simple editor, writer, perhaps even a director? When I started high school, I found my answer with someone who became one of the most important people in my life. I took a film and TV production class and met Mrs. Sky. We spent half the school year in her old math classroom because our studio’s new equipment had not been installed. Despite the lack of actual film work, Mrs. Sky still found ways to let us explore this passion. Once we were given camcorders, she guided us on each feature. Those days were comforting, but it still felt as if something was missing. When we finally got our studio, I produced the first intro for our school’s weekly broadcast, Padre TV. Mr. Sky told me that it would be the perfect project for me. On April 19, 2023, we aired our first episode. It was simple, and I didn’t think it turned out that well, but witnessing my creation being enjoyed by many students was gratifying. I felt fulfilled for the first time in my life; this is what I was brought into this world to do. No one understood me for who I was, but as a director, I could express to the world who I am. Not a depraved psycho but a creative maverick who’s created an impactful story to tell. Without Mrs. Sky, I would've never had the chance to find my true passion. With a new perspective on what I must do, I dedicated the rest of my school life to film. Throughout it all, Mrs. Sky was always there with me. She celebrated me when I managed to bring home our program's first award at our school district's film festival. She taught me how to color grade footage, elevating the quality of all my content; however, what touched me the most was what happened after the film club elections. I knew I would make a great club president, but I struggled with my speech and lost the election, devastating me. Despite everything I've done, I still struggle with the belief that my work is inadequate and a waste of time. I sat down at an empty desk and started crying as my insecurities overran my mind. "All this work, all my experience, what was any of it for?!". I wanted to quit then and there. Then I felt her hand on my shoulder; Mrs. Sky pulled me in for a hug. She told me that I had been one of the most talented students she had ever seen, and this incident did not represent who I would become. She always believed in me when I didn't even believe in myself. I am forever in her debt for everything she's done for me. Without her film class, I would have no concept of my identity. Film class gave me the ability to exist.

Out of all book to film adaptations I've watched, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, written by Suzzane Collins, is my favorite. Ever since binging all four Hunger Games films, I always found myself attracted to Cornelius Snow. Like a teen discovering Hot Topic, his mysterious background and ruthless nature entranced me. When I found out that Suzzane Collins wrote a book all about him, I immediately checked it out of my school's library and went to town. Discovering his treacherous journey from cheating his ex-girlfriend to victory in the Hunger Games to abandoning all the friends he made for his personal benefit felt invigorating. That admiration for Cornelius Snow is why that prequel is still one of my favorite novels of all time. When the film's first preview released, the first thing I thought was that "this movie is already more accurate to the books than the last four. They didn't white-wash one of the main characters again". As more information about the film was released my desire to see the film further intensified until tickets started going on sale at my local theater and I purchased myself one. Reliving the brutality of the 10th Hunger Games and Snow's classmate Senjanus being too pure for this world was mesmerizing, like a theater kid lovingly seeing Hamilton for the 10th time. But what really set it above other book to film adaptations for me was how it helped display just how vile of a person Cornelius was. The movie cut a scene from the book where Cornelius felt violently ill for getting Senjanus executed. That scene went against his entire character of sacrificing others for his own benefit with no regrets. Personally, I'm not a fan of all the things the film cut, but at the same time, it cut the proper scenes to maintain the central themes of the film. It's like removing fish and chips from a pizza joint; it never should've been in there but good thing it's gone. And don't get me started on how the actual Hunger Games ended! Instead of the game ending with an anti-climatic fight where Lucy Grey poisoned and tired out the other contestant who survived the deadly snake rain, the film ended the game with the snake rain as Rachel Zegler sings one of her best solos. With that in mind, I can say that I definitively view the film as superior to the book for me for elevating what worked in the book while adding soul to the spectacle of it all.