It's a very typical, not at all unique or spectacular, Saturday evening, and I've come home from college for the weekend. I haven't seen my friends in a while, so I meet Melinda and Jake at a local wine bar called The Met. We fall back together in the usual fashion, laughing, talking about everything under the sun, and of course, drinking unabashedly. I'm three grasshopper martinis in, and suddenly a woman walks up to our table. She smiles and says, "I'm sorry, but we were wondering, are you Holly Koza's daughter?" In an instant I push my drink away, fold my hands in my lap, politely smile, and confirm that I am indeed one of the twin daughters of Holly and Vince Koza. She declares that she thought so and that my mother is a lovely woman (she is), asks how college is going and shouldn't I be graduating soon? (It's fine and I am), and finishes up by telling me to tell my mother she said hello and to enjoy the rest of my night.
I do not know this woman.
Run-ins like these are a fairly common occurrence and have been for my entire life. I was not alarmed, just caught off guard. The woman left and I went back to my drink and conversation with little more than a chuckle and a smirk. In fact, while conversations similar to that with the woman have always felt a bit strange, it never occurred to me that the experience of growing up with your parents being on television was interesting until I came to college. To me it's not unique or at all intriguing; it's just how life has always been.
My parents are Holly and Vince Koza, and if you live in Lima, Ohio, you almost certainly know who they are. My mother has been on the local news channel for 29 years, hosting her own noon show and occasionally filling in on the morning show. My father was on the same channel for 30 years as the sports director and began hosting his own radio talk show 18 years ago. These days he's not on TV anymore, but he is on radio full time doing his talk show "Sports Talk with Koza" Monday-Saturday and writes a weekly column for the newspaper.
From the day we were born my twin sister Sarah and I have been on TV and in the public limelight. Our birth was announced on the evening news; we were often used in footage for news stories and feature pieces. If an event was being covered and my sister and I were there, it was almost guaranteed we would be in the footage and on the news that night. To normal people being on the news is exciting, but to me it's never mattered-it's just something that would happen.
Another thing that just sort of happened was our parents being very overprotective and restrictive. I wasn't allowed to go to the movies on my own until I was 14 and we were rarely allowed to spend the night at our friend's houses. We never participated in the neighborhood garage sale, and until I went off to college our phone number was unlisted in the phone book. At the time, all of these things (and more) really annoyed me. My parent's favorite saying was "we trust you, we just don't trust everyone else". However, I see now that my parent's fears came from a genuine place. Mom would take us grocery shopping with her, and without fail at least one person would come up to us and act like we were close friends. They knew our names, what grade my sister and I were in, where we went to school, and for me, the most annoying part was that they always felt they could touch my "beautiful red hair".
People still feel like they can touch my hair without asking. I think it's because they feel like they are a part of my private life. For years my parents have entered their homes nightly and Sarah and I have always been part of their story. People we don't know feel connected to us, feel like we are friends, because they see my parents so often in an intimate setting. They're on their couch and in their pajamas watching my mom tell them the news and my dad tell them all the sports scores-they trust my parents. And because they trust my parents they feel like they know them, and through them they know me and my sister. They feel entitled to know all about my life since they feel they have invested time in my growing up. People have seen me grow from a newborn to a college student; they're invested and want to keep updated on my story. When two prominent reporters introduced their children to the public, we became a news story-not just a run-of-the-mill news story about a city council meeting, but a relatable story that people could track their lives by. The most frequent thing that I hear from people when they come up to me is "I remember when you were born." I laugh and smile, but honestly that's so strange! Why is my birth a memorable event to people who don't even really know me? It's like my birthday is a milestone for others that they can use to place themselves in time. "I remember when you were born-my kids are the same age"; "I remember when you were born- I was in the third year of my job"; "I remember when you were born- I feel so old!" Conversations like these are so frequent that I've stopped trying to remember how often they occur.
Unknown individuals coming up to me and reminiscing about my life has never gone away, no matter how far from Lima my family and I go. It never fails that when we are on vacation someone recognizes my father. "Hey Vince Koza!" The cry is so familiar to my ears that I'm sure I've tuned some of them out. No matter where we are- Walt Disney World in Orlando, on the subway in New York City, at a comedy club in Toronto, at a musical in St. Louis- there is always someone who recognizes my parents. They usually want nothing more than to say hello and to have a quick chat about sports. I imagine when they get back home they remark to their friends and family about how they ran into Vince Koza and his family while on vacation-just like how when we return we will tell our friends and family about how amazingly, at another completely random location and in a large mass of people, our family was recognized.
I came to college at Ohio State in an attempt to get away from the constant recognition, but two hours south in a much bigger town wasn't far enough. While the frequency of people recognizing my last name has certainly gone down, it hasn't disappeared. I was walking out of the back door of my house to go to class one day and in the parking lot was a friend with two guys. She yelled hi to me with the customary "'sup Koza?" and before I could respond, the two guys asked, "wait, like Vince Koza?" Ah, yes indeed he is my father. What are the chances that on such a huge campus two guys who recognized my dad would be in the parking lot of my house when I leaving?
As weird as it is to have parents that people in your town consider famous, it's not without its occasional perks. I'm very aware that many of the wonderful experiences I've had are thanks to my parent's jobs. And while I will be the first to admit that the potential perks can be awesome, it can also really suck. I've grown up very aware of who my parents are and how the public views my family. Many people do consider them small town celebrities, and it's because of my parents "fame" that I'm very cautious and private. Always wondering if people are your friend or being nice to you because they really like you or if it's because of your parents is a rough thing to deal with. I stayed far away from all athletics not only because I hate running, but also because there's no way I would have truly believed I made the team based solely on my skill. Many high school girls dream of dating a football player, but to me that thought was a nightmare. If I had a close relationship with anyone who played sports or was interested in journalism I was constantly scrutinizing our dynamic and trying to figure out if they really liked me for me, or just for my last name. The same goes for getting a job. Yes, everyone uses every contact they can, but how will I ever be certain that I will get a job in Lima because I'm good enough for it and not because my last name is recognizable? It's mainly for this reason that I've always thought I would make a great wife for an actual celebrity (I'm looking at you Prince Harry and Tom Hiddleston). I don't deal with the public scrutiny on a scale that's anywhere close to what they experience, but I am familiar with it. And I completely understand the fear of people not truly liking you for who you are.
With living in a kind of fishbowl for my whole life, it's no surprise that I really feel like I have dual personalities. There's very much a 'public me' and a 'private me'. The 'public me' knows that every time I leave my house there's a chance that someone will recognize me, so I should try to look less like a bum and more like the daughter of two news professionals; the 'private me' is constantly in pajamas or sweats. 'Private me' really enjoys drinking, laughing, hanging out with my friends, and generally acting like the 21 year old that I am; 'public me' is incredibly polite, proper, doesn't curse, pushes her drink away and smiles when people come up to her. 'Private me' is very sarcastic, while 'public me' is not only always on her very best behavior, but will also always pretend like she knows exactly who you are and is so happy to see you and catch up. How I, as one actual person, manage these opposing personas while maintaining a sense of my true self and retaining a slim hold on sanity is anyone's guess. At this point I'm not sure that I know how to live in any other way. The idea of being completely unrecognizable to those who don't actually know me is incredibly appealing, but also terrifying. It's part of who I am. Knowing that your actions don't just reflect back on you, but also reflect on your parents is not a bad thing to know. And yes, it all can be frustrating at times, but overall I don't know anything else-this is my normal- and I'm incredibly blessed to have wonderful parents who love me and have done their best to prevent me from becoming a casualty of their profession. I am my true self, and my public self, and my parent's public self, and my twin sister's public self (but that's a whole different essay). So to all single, male, and preferably British, actual celebrities out there- Hi, my name is Brittany Koza, and I've been living in a fishbowl my whole life.
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