Madeleine Schor, 13 (Palo Alto, CA) Awareness, Reflection… Awareflectness! Madeleine Schor, 13 I have a particularly vivid memory from last autumn. While tidying up my room, something unexpected caught my eye. It was an eerie morning. A newborn day, holding fresh potential, yet also carrying the threat of losing itself to the sea of all the days before it in that somber year, 2020. Out of the blue, I found my old memory box. Ooh, I thought, I haven’t looked through this in a while. The top slid open easily, and my Halloween costume from three years ago overflowed in a pile in front of me. At that time, I was going through a Harry Potter phase, and that year I had dressed up as a golden phoenix. Finding the costume was strange since I didn’t remember putting it in my memory box: it was almost as if it had been waiting for me. I smiled to myself. The golden phoenix is said to be the most prominent symbol of change and rebirth. When the time comes, a phoenix dies in a brilliant show of fire and ashes. The descendant of the original phoenix rises from its ancestor’s ashes, stronger than before, and the circle of life continues. Finding my costume made me think about how much the world has changed over the last three years. This time of year, kids of all ages used to go door to door and trick-or-treat on Halloween with their friends. With our new normal, Halloween will be very different, and I am still trying to wrap my head around how it might look. This season also typically brings anticipation for the holidays and gathering and celebrating with family. With the current COVID-19 pandemic, that will be strange this year. Speaking of strange… Wednesday, September 9th, as you may remember, was the day when the skies were heavy with darkness. Some people referred to this mysterious episode as “Doom’s Day.” I don’t know about you, but I had a hunch that there was a deeper, more spiritual meaning behind the physical darkness outside my window. Something besides the smoke from the wildfires. I went about my day attending Zoom classes for school, noticing that the day started to look more and more like night. As I was writing my heart out in an assignment for my humanities class, I heard some commotion in our hallway. Tipping toes and whispering voices filled our house. I tried to ignore it for a long while, but couldn’t help wonder, What is going on? I closed my laptop and pushed my chair away from my desk. As I opened my door, I heard a word that had never been uttered inside our home before. “Snake.” I walked out and saw my mom with an expression of shock written all over her face. “Snake! It’s a snake! Right here, in our hallway. Someone must have left the door open!” And, as if on cue, a long, slim, gray body started making its way gracefully across the floor. Wait, was this thing real? Is this a prank? But, as I got closer, I could tell from its smooth, slithering movements that it was very much real… and alive… and moving – with purpose. There was something different about this creature. Something ethereal. She (or he?) was in no particular rush to go back outside. Not a dangerous type either, luckily. Most snakes that I’ve seen up close coil up, ready to strike. But no, this snake was peacefully slithering about, minding its own business, checking out the room and the vibe. I was not afraid of this slender serpent. However, the world seemed to slow before my eyes. I thought this whole scenario playing out in front of me was splendidly curious! This was turning out to be an even stranger day than I could have ever imagined. I peeked outside and noticed that the skies had turned ever more dark and fiery orange. Still, my intuition was telling me this was a sign of something with great importance. But what? Later that day, after we gently escorted the snake out of the house (it crawled up in one of my childhood toys, seemed comfortable there, and was taken out with the toy), I was curious and researched what snakes may symbolize. According to some ancient beliefs, snakes may be signs of change and rebirth. That makes sense, I thought to myself. They do shed their skin and transform. That day, I was stunned by a small-boned creature with a significant amount of purpose. It made me realize that these challenging times have allowed ALL of us, who were very busy before, to pause due to microscopically tiny organisms with tremendous amounts of power. As we have learned how to reorganize our lives into a new normal, each day often presents us with a new set of challenges, and they bring us a reason to reflect. Every day is unique. There may be a stronger feeling of being “out of control.” However, each day holds many blessings in its heart. Even simple things in life—the sun rising, birds singing, a breeze of clean air, unexpected visitors—enrich our lives. We are all lucky to be here, on Earth, in this wonderful human community. We could call this type of change and rebirth – awareness and reflection – awareflectness. I like that. Not every sign has to be life-changing. For example, every day has a beginning and an end. Yesterday, the sunset brought the day to a peaceful end. This morning. the sunrise unveiled a new beginning, encouraging us to make this day better than the last. Later today, the sun will set, hopefully leaving us feeling strong and accomplished with how we have grown. Sometimes we are too preoccupied to recognize what the world may be trying to tell us. Sometimes, the signs are subtle. For instance, the whispers outside my door when I was writing that day. They were alerting
personal narrative
Schooling in the Midst of a Global Pandemic: Thoughts of an 11-Year-Old
“Returning to school is a privilege.” These were the first words I remember hearing when I stepped into the school building this August after more than a year of online school. Like millions of children and adolescents around the country, my sister and I returned to in person school this fall. With the delta variant of the coronavirus surging, especially among the unvaccinated, and many kids in my school still not eligible for the vaccine, I am confused about how these decisions make sense. Perhaps we are being told that returning to school is a privilege to make us feel grateful for the opportunity to learn in school again. However, returning to school is not a privilege. It is a right and it is the law of the land. What if me, my sister, or my friends get COVID? Will children be okay and get better? What if there is an outbreak? Will we go back to online school again? How will it all work out? How are we being sent back to school without having a proper plan? Every now and then kids have colds and coughs, especially during the fall and winter seasons. Will they need to be away from school? How will the constant disruption affect our education? My teachers do not seem to have satisfying answers to these questions. This makes me even more disturbed and anxious than I already am. To be fair, my teachers probably agree with my sentiments and may not have had much say in these decisions. My feelings of anxiousness are mixed with curious observations of my classmates’ behaviors. Adults are always saying that “kids need to socialize.” It seems to me that most kids are not interested in socializing when they have the opportunity to do so. Most kids are glued to their phones or Chromebooks at lunchtime when they are sitting right next to each other. Even during class, I see my classmates distracted with video games or checking their phones under the table. There is scarcely any socializing. Being one of the few 6th graders who does not have a phone and has no interest in having one, I am dismayed. My friends are missing their childhood and adolescence. I wonder what their memories of middle school will be when they grow up and grow old. Will they remember losing their tooth and getting excited about it and sharing it with others? Will they remember their friends’ laughter and smiles? Will they remember long conversations and walks around the school grounds? There is so much to life beyond these screens. I hope I am never so absorbed in these screens that I forget to see the life around me. Despite my anxiousness, anger, and dismay, I am very fortunate to have friends who think like me. We take walks around the school’s outdoor garden and have lunch in the midst of blooming flowers. We observe the squirrels, spiders, and butterflies. We observe other students and the strange racial, ethnic, and gender segregation in middle school. We are glad not to feel as if we have to be in this box or that category. We get to know more about each other with each passing day, check each other’s homework, and discuss all of our ideas for after school clubs. So much seems possible! Even though everything seems messed up and uncertain, I am thankful for the opportunity to meet new people in 6th grade, make new friends, and have the chance to talk to old friends as well. My mom says I look happier now that I have returned to school. I have so much to report each afternoon, which contrasts with the severely limited experiences in online school. My mom is delighted to hear my stories. I didn’t even see my classmates’ faces on zoom because so many kept their cameras off. Now, of course, half our faces are covered with our masks. I have forgotten some of my friends’ faces. Still, I think I am happier, too. I think it is because I have something more than the four walls of my room and a screen to experience. I am stunned to think about how limited my world has been for the past year and a half. As the pandemic goes on relentlessly, I hear platitudes like “…everything will be ok…. we are resilient…. we will stop COVID from spreading in the school….we should hold on to hope…” My heart wants to believe that everything will be okay, but my mind resists. For now, I stop myself from thinking about the future and dwelling on the past. I just accept my situation.
How Nationality Affects the Eyes, a personal narrative by Sue Park, 12
Sue Park, 12 (South Korea) How Nationality Affects the Eyes Sue Park, 12 I still remember the day my teacher introduced me to the project. It was a cloudy day in April 2019, and the whiteboard had consisted of three bloody-red words that frightened most of the children: North-Korean Interview. I did love projects and adventurous trips at that time, but I knew this trip would be different, and somewhat spectacular. I had planned the new unit, different countries and cultures, to be about the ‘normal’ countries, not the countries that were known for their militaries and strict dictatorships, like North Korea. To make matters worse, I had always thought negatively about North Korea and its citizens. From school and TV shows, I naturally had a lot of prejudice about the place as it was planted in my mind as a brutal and unstable country with violent people. Additionally, I grew up watching the immense tension between the two countries in practically every political or social issue. It was incredibly easy to find news articles about the unbelievable actions of the North-Korean government officials, primarily Kim Jong-Un. … I stood in the middle of the hallway, frightened. I took a deep, slow breath as I took a giant step through the whooshing crowd of children. I quickly scanned the group of kids next to me; they looked like 3rd-graders that were enjoying the trip. I was blankly staring at them for a while when I heard someone calling me. My homeroom teacher motioned me to come, then smiled at me. At first, I thought she was waving at the playful boy behind me, but as I stuttered, she came up to me and told me that it was my turn for the interview. At that moment, I screamed, inwardly, “I don’t want to do this!” As my teacher carefully held my wrist and took me to the man from North Korea, I did not practice my script but rather practiced the karate skills that I had learned in kindergarten, fearing sudden violence. When I finally reached the door to the interview room, which looked like a torture chamber, my teacher nudged me calmly. At that moment, my teacher appeared to be a frightful green monster pushing me to the town of hell. Recognizing my fate, I trudged to the chair and quietly sat on the corner of it, ready to leave at any moment. Surprisingly, the man didn’t look any different from a normal South Korean man. He had a warm smile and he did not wear the military clothes that I had pictured in my head. As I quickly scanned him and looked into his plain black eyes, there was an awkward silence. And it felt like a millennium. When I couldn’t stand the silence much longer, I blurted out my first question: “What is the main obstacle you have faced in South Korea?” and as he answered accordingly, my stomach rumbled with guilt and fear. The man calmly listed out the prejudices and perceptions South Koreans had of him, and how difficult it was for him to find a job due to the people neglecting him after listening to his North Korean accent. As he listed out these examples, my guilt increased more and more due to the fact that I could relate to all of them. As if he noticed my pain, he asked, “Is something wrong?” and I replied, “No, I’m fine!” But, I knew this was a lie. As the interview went on, and I watched others interact with him, it became clear that this North Korean man was a complete contradiction from the picture I had drawn in my head. He was completely different from the military that was portrayed on the news. He was amiable, friendly, and loved making new friends. He was not violent nor rude, but was careful with his actions and was very gentle toward all the students. He bowed respectively to any newcomer that agreed to take the interview and was more than welcoming to anyone that came across his way. I slowly started to realize that it might be an unkind mistake to overgeneralize North Koreans as the “antagonists.” I learned that without meeting them, we should not criticize a certain group of people just because of their nationality. This is because even though their nationality might have a rough background, their citizens might be different as they might not be influenced by these experiences. This is why the interview provided me with the lesson that we should not judge a person by their nationality. This experience definitely encouraged me to recognize problems related to prejudice in society that still exist today.
