"Personal Narrative" by Leena M

Fun personalities, spontaneous responses, and sly jokes.

Growing up, I began to notice these attributes in my family, and it has always been something that I’ve greatly enjoyed. Although unconventional at times, our ability to be on the same page is a talent nonetheless, and if you have a talent, it must belong somewhere. In 2017, I found that place. 

I submitted a written application to Family Feud (to the best of my eighth-grade writing abilities) and mustered together a one-woman-show video entry for the Musharbash family to have a shot on the big screen. I kept it a secret for three months, knowing it was a long shot. Not so spontaneous this time, I was fully prepared to explain the personalized rejection letter from Steve Harvey that my parents would magically receive in the mail. Had they known we got rejected, I wouldn’t be able to get away with reapplying, and I had to avoid that outcome at all costs. No matter how long it took, I was determined to get us on the show.

“Wow, they must’ve confused two different Musharbash families…even though it would be difficult to find a Musharbash family in America that is not related to us…and they happened to get our address correct…what a crazy coincidence...”

As time passed, I quickly forgot that I was waiting for a decision. If anything, I assumed Family Feud wouldn’t notify me because we hadn’t been selected, and I found solace in knowing that I would be able to avoid that terrible excuse.

That all changed on the most ordinary day. It was a school morning; I walked into the kitchen for breakfast, opened the bottom cabinet, and pulled out my favorite cereal. Like any other morning, I poured in the milk against the monotonous tone of the ABC news report and ate it on my usual chair by the kitchen counter. Yet, something about that morning didn’t feel the same. I wasn’t exactly sure of the cause, but the atmosphere in the room was different. Quickly, I pinpointed it to my parents. Oddly enough, they were the ones being sly, and I knew they were hiding something.

His face ridden with glee, my dad handed me the letter.

“Musharbash family:

Congratulations - After reviewing your application, we believe that you have the potential to be a strong fit for the show, and It is with great pleasure that we invite you to the final round of auditioning for the 2018 season….”

I could feel the outburst of joy rapidly growing throughout my body with each word I read. After getting to “strong fit for the show,” my smile grew as large as the congratulative font, and I screamed so loud I’m sure my neighbor three houses down heard it. I could no longer control it.

To my shock, neither could my parents.

“We already knew, Leena!!”

Once again, I wasn’t as sly as I had thought. After coming across the submission confirmation email, my parents decided to keep it a secret to spare me the anticipated rejection. Thankfully, both of our plans fell through. Working together is the best way to advance in Family Feud, and that was our first moment stepping towards success in the show together.

After two weeks passed, there was only sight to be seen in my mind. Bold and plastered on the parking structure, there it was: “FAMILY FEUD TRYOUTS - ENTER HERE!”

Alongside my parents and two of my funniest aunts and uncles, we took that first step onto the audition platform together (quite literally, since we thought walking in unison and matching t-shirts would make us look more united.)

We sized up our competition, the blinding lights fired up, and the gentle hum of the TV cameras steadily awakened.

BAM. Rapid-fire. They catch you by surprise.

“Name something you should wear if you were trying to dress like a pirate.”

“Okay, Leena, pirate, pirate, PIRATE HOOK!”

I had my answer ready while the host was still doing the first round of questioning on my uncle.

Maybe I should’ve considered that as foreshadowing for what was to come.

The rapid-fire continues.

“EYEPATCH! HAT! BANDANA!”

Our response time lengthens as the host makes his second round around our platform. The nerves set in, and I could tell that my aunt and uncle didn’t have a solution ready, but I paid no attention. All I knew was that we were doing well, and our competition was 17 points behind.

After it ended with the final response, we left ecstatically. From each direction, we were met by other prospective families assuring us of our selection and wishing us luck in the actual show. Unlike before, we embarked on the three-month waiting period in confidence. There were no secrets this time around, and we were anticipating taking hold of that glorious cash prize.

Soon, the fateful email finally arrived - we were disqualified because my aunt and uncle were caught exchanging answers after the producers rolled the tapes back.

Although the news wasn’t what we expected - at all - I was still just as ecstatic. Our strengthened bond was unbreakable, and we came away with stories to tell for a lifetime. Teamwork ultimately brought us to the brink of success, and although we may have taken it too far, it quickly became something that I learned to cherish.

Who knows - by working together (to an extent), there is no limit to what we could accomplish if we audition again.