We’re the Resilient Generation, Not the COVID Generation Olivia Shekou, 12 What is resilience? “Resilience” is used in physics to describe the way materials revert back to their original shape after undergoing some kind of shock or impact. In medicine, “resilience” describes a patient’s ability to recover after a traumatic event, such as surgery or accidents. “Resilience” was used by my younger brother who came back from Kindergarten one day, now five years ago, saying that his teacher told him “resilience means to bounce back.” That sure struck a chord with him. During our current pandemic, I think we can agree that “resilience” describes our ability to cope with stress, loss, and anxiety in the face of a deadly virus that has swept across the globe. Generation Z (those born between 1995-2009), like myself, and Generation Alpha (those born between 2010-2024), like my younger brother, have quickly learned to wear masks, socially distance, frequently wash our hands, elbow bump rather than hug, and drill test swabs high up in our noses in an effort to do our part. We all waited forever for the vaccine and were quick to line up for it so we could see our grandparents again be social citizens. Our resilience comes from just this—our excitement to return to our schools and communities. It comes from our desire for normalcy, especially coming off the heels of a long depressing year of virtual learning and what felt like a “caged” interaction with our friends who we needed more than ever. Many of us had a serious case of cabin fever, and too many of us were grieving the loss of a family member or friend whose funerals we couldn’t even attend. We’ve been through the unimaginable, all the while watching our own parents figure out how to keep their jobs, care for their own aging and very much vulnerable parents, and guide us in times they’ve never experienced or imagined before. They had no manual or experience of their own to draw from. What we’ve been through has felt like cruel and unusual sci-fi torture. I’ve thought long and hard about the countless immigrant children who move to new unfamiliar countries with no manual of their own, and only their own desire for a better life that fuels their resilience. According to a 2016 UNICEF report, one in eight migrants worldwide are children and these numbers are especially high within refugee populations. Sadly, these immigrant children experience trauma from culture shock, language barriers, racism and, oftentimes, bullying, and yet a large percentage of them recover from the trauma, integrate and thrive. I believe their resilience resides in their motivation for a better life. One such example is a character in the novel Dragonwings, by Lawrence Yip, which I read while stuck at home for my sixth grade year during the pandemic. The character, Moon Shadow Lee, soon became my hero and someone I drew upon to help me through the many ups and downs of our pandemic. Moon Shadow Lee, the 8-year old immigrant narrator and protagonist in Dragonwings, moved from his native country, China, to a new world, the U.S., only to relocate yet again in the aftermath of a natural disaster, all the while confronting racism and violence. At age eight, he traveled alone from China to San Francisco during the 1903 Gold Rush and learned to assimilate in a new environment with many obstacles and unimaginable hurdles. On his first night in San Francisco, Moon Shadow reunites with his father and other family members who run the “Company,” a laundromat service in Chinatown. He receives a rude awakening when some evil Americans—”demons”— shatter their laundromat window with bricks. Soon after, Moon Shadow is unexpectedly beaten by his very own cousin, Black Dog, who turns out to be a corrupt and vile family member. In response to this incident and in search of a safer place to live, Moon Shadow and his father, Windrider, pick up again and relocate to live with the Whitlaw’s outside of Chinatown. Not long after this move, an earthquake devastates San Francisco, uprooting them yet again to a barn in Oakland, a move in which they are rudely awakened again by Black Dog who surreptitiously seeks them out and steals their savings. As a result, they have no way of paying rent on their farm, and through this struggle, Moon Shadow develops a deep level of resilience. Despite this unexpected setback, Moon Shadow and his father manage to pay their rent and go on to achieve their ultimate goal of flying their glider, Dragonwings, a symbol of their freedom and aspirations. Boy did he teach me a number on resilience. Let Moon Shadow’s story be an inspiration to us all. American students and children everywhere, we too are resilient in the face of adversity. We have proved that we are not the COVID Generation, but the Resilient Generation. We too have our kites and gliders to fly, our hopes and ambitions to achieve. Resilience is a shared but unique experience to each of us. What if resilience were a color? If we received exactly what we needed right now in the form of a drop of light in our hearts, what color would it be? Dragonwings by Laurence Yep. Harper Collins, 2001. Buy the book here and support Stone Soup in the process!
Young Bloggers
The Other Side of Luck, Reviewed by Ismini, 12
Una is a princess secluded from the city. Her mother passed away giving birth to her brother when she was young, and her father neglects her, treating Una as an afterthought. Julien’s mother also passed when he was young, but he and his father have a bond beyond love. However, Julien struggles to get by with the little they make foraging for raw ingredients in the forest, especially since his father’s sickness began. After his father is wrongly imprisoned, Julien searches for the rare Silva flower to present to the king and earn the funds to pay for a lawyer. When Una learns of the contest her father has announced to find the silva flower, she sees a chance to prove herself and escape from her dull, humdrum life. Ginger Johnson’s The Other Side of Luck embodies the unforgettable experience of escaping from reality into another world. With Johnson’s elegant prose and robust sensory details, I felt as if I were living the lives of the main characters Una and Julien. The Other Side of Luck takes place in a simple fantasy world, and the story seems almost cliché at first glance, but it is far from. Ginger Johnson weaves a powerful story about the importance of family and making the most of even the worst circumstances. This book is jam-packed with solid and eloquently put life lessons. In such a constantly changing world filled with so much violence and complexity, it’s often difficult to find a moment of peace or simplicity. The Other Side of Luck encompasses escapism at its finest, and the plot and the characters are easy to follow. The details paint a vivid picture, and Johnson’s sensory descriptions feel so real I couldn’t help but believe I was walking through a forest on the outskirts of a fantasy kingdom, seeking out the Silva. Her descriptions of the various sounds plants make and her descriptions of the specific scents of emotions seemed to manifest within my reality. Only 240 pages, The Other Side of Luck is a quick and exciting read suitable for ages 8 – 100 that is sure to please. The Other Side of Luck by Ginger Johnson. Bloomsbury Publishing PLC, 2021. Buy the book here and support Stone Soup in the process!
Community: A Most Unique TV Show
In the first episode of the sitcom Community, Jeff Winger, a lawyer disbarred for faking his bachelor’s degree, has to go to Greendale Community College to get his degree. To win over a woman in his Spanish class, he pretends to be a Spanish tutor with his own study group. Five others from the class join the group too, and they form an unexpected friendship over the show. Thus begins six seasons of film homages, subversive self-referentiality, and resonant character development. Community references specific movies and entire genres of film, and references can last anywhere from one line to an entire episode. What distinguishes homages in Community from your average spoof is that the characters recognize homages when they see them, often making a point of accentuating the homage, especially Abed, the film enthusiast who seems to know more about television than the real world. The show has many paintball episodes (in which the entire school plays a game of paintball assassin) and a Hot Lava episode (in which the school plays a game of Hot Lava), which include homages to Star Wars; Lord Of The Rings; Mad Max; and the post-apocalyptic, western, and spy genres. In the Star Wars episode, Abed “calls dibs” on playing Han Solo once he realizes the game is becoming like the aforementioned movie. Appropriately, for a show that seems to know all the tropes of popular culture, it knows when to subvert them, too. When Annie loses her pen, she makes everyone in the group stay in the study room until they find out who took it. Abed sighs, saying he hates bottle episodes, which take place in one room, usually to save money or to speed through character development. Like other bottle episodes, this episode was highly emotional, but lacks the forced character development. The episode “Paradigms of Human Memory” is in the format of a clip episode, which is a tool used mainly to dramatically cut costs by recycling old footage. The episode, however, included entirely new footage, and was one of the most expensive episodes of the show. Community has been on the verge of cancellation many times, which the show has addressed. In the season 5 finale, when NBC had cancelled the show, Abed said, “We’ll definitely be back next year. If not, it’ll be because an asteroid has destroyed all human civilization. And that’s canon,” looking directly at the camera. The show references itself in a very intelligent way, using Abed’s love of film and habit of relating life to TV to be self-referential without breaking character or losing realism. But without great characters, Community would fall flat. While in the pilot episode, they appear to be nothing more than one-dimensional stereotypes, they quickly become fleshed-out characters with realistic portrayals of their diversity. Abed has Autism Spectrum Disorder, and “represents a unique individual on the autism spectrum rather than a stereotypical bundle of symptoms,” according to Interacting With Autism. In addition, each episode has ramifications. A revealing episode focused on one character forever changes how others treat them. In the episode “Advanced Dungeons And Dragons”, Pierce bullies Neal, whom the study group is trying to prevent from committing suicide. As a result, Pierce and the rest of the group become more distant and fight much more often. One of the main characters on the show, Shirley, says when talking about Abed’s favorite show, “It’s smart, and doesn’t talk down to its viewers.” It would be very hard to find a more appropriate and succinct description of Community.
