My son’s school asked if I would come in for career day when he was in kindergarten. Of course, any chance I got I would take advantage being there for him. 

I arrive at Oak Grove Elementary school in Peachtree City, GA and I walk into a room full of 60 five-year-olds. For some reason, I got a bit nervous. Why I felt nervous in front of a room of little growing humans was beyond me until…that moment I regretted everything. 

I asked the kids on the count of three to yell out their favorite Superhero. Since I had fun jobs playing different Superheroes, and one not many people know unless they are die hard Marvel fans. That kicks off my Career Day as a Stuntwoman. Telling Superhero stories, behind the scenes and all the fun costumes I got to wear. Because to a five-year-old, its so cool.

Half way through my presentation with the kids, a little girl in the front row raises her hand with a question. And a very good question. “what is your favorite stunt?” Immediately a question I can easily answer and without hesitation I say,”being lit on fire.” I jump right into the why with excitement.  I pause for a moment to see the eyes on the teachers like they just saw a ghost. I froze in complete embarrsassment. I just taught a room full of children how to light themselves on fire. 

Her hand raises again, “How do you light yourself on fire?” In complete fear of getting calls from the school and parents, I said, “well it’s special fire with special lighter and special clothing that can only be done while making a movie.” Though, anything I said wouldn’t be heard at this point as all the kids minds are already thinking how and when they can light themselves on fire. 

The teachers chimed in and explained to the kids it only works when you have the right stuff as an adult and you have to be a Stuntwoman. It was a group effort to try and erase everything they just absorbed.

I wrap up the career day as quickly as possible ending it on a super hero photo of me as Captain Marvel NOT on fire or anything to do with fire. 

I leave the school in complete panic and anxiety. Terrified getting in trouble for teaching kids how to light themselves on fire. 

Later that day, I receive a text from Kyson’s teacher. My stomach in knots I decided to not read it for a few hours to let the worst case possible simmer in my head for a bit longer mentally preparing for all the angry parents. I take a deep breath and finally read it. “Today was awesome and we are getting such great feedback we would love to have you again!”

Relieved yes. Though, I realized anything I said about any stunt would be a really bad example. Getting hit by cars? Terrible idea. Fighting? Terrible idea. Jumping out of cars, helicopters or motorcycles? Also a terrible idea. Realizing this, I felt a bit better but didn’t want to put myself in the position of complete embarrassment again so I declined the next career day. 

Moral of the story, there is no moral. Though, I have realized when in comlete embarrassment, which I have had many on stage, just keep going and owning. Realize you are only human and it’s OK. 

The truth is, embarrassment is just part of the ride—especially when you’re doing something bold, new, or just plain risky (like talking fire stunts with five-year-olds). But the key isn’t to avoid messing up—it’s to keep going after you do. Own the awkward moments. Laugh at yourself. Learn the lesson (in my case: maybe stick to wire work and Superhero poses). Because growth doesn’t come from perfection—it comes from recovering, reflecting, and moving forward with a little more wisdom and a lot more humility.