My Favorite Time of Year

Merry Christmas! 

This time of year is most definitely my favorite. It's a time when the dust from a year's worth of work and play and experiences settles down, leaving a vacuum of space and time for reflection. In Boston, it's always cold by late December. While a layer of frost physically covers the ground, a layer of frost almost freezes of momentum of time and stops it in its tracks. So as the New Year approaches and as I enjoy the very last few hours of this Christmas Day, I reflect on the passing year. 

Our tree this year :)

In one word: tumultuous. This has been a tumultuous year. 

The world continues to struggle with COVID-19 on a daily basis and the new variant Omicron is driving a new surge in infections. This has driven worldwide repercussions. While schools and businesses were open for some, this new strain of the virus is threatening to shut down everything once again. 

There have been political and ideological tensions between the East and the West, particularly between the US and China. These tensions threaten to produce global effects as other countries take sides and each side insists on winning. 

Joe Biden became President of the US this and his first year so far has marked tremendous amounts of government stimulus spending. His signature Build Back Better plan, on which he campaigned, did not pass the Senate vote earlier this week. This has threatened to pull apart Congress, pitting the left against the right. 

2021 was also a tumultuous year for me personally. It was the year I applied to college. It was a time that left me stressed out and in retrospect, left me in one of the darkest periods of my life. It was a milestone that I couldn't seem to overcome and somehow did. But this year, my family lost a very important member of the family: our dear cat BeiBei. We still think about her every day and I still find myself growing emotional some nights thinking about her. But I know she's in a better place now. 

While 2021 started out on a rough foot for me, with high school graduation, college apps, and BeiBei's passing, I feel as if I've regained some footing. Admittedly, I felt lost after high school, unsure whether I could stay true to my values and beliefs. But over that barrier now and in a new milestone of my life, I feel as if I have found some direction. The dust that fogged my vision and battered my self-confidence seems to have settled a bit.  

Knowing this year, I'm sure it has more to show us in the last 5 days and I'm prepared to embrace whatever is thrown at us. The erraticness of our world is real. But right now, on this cold, wet Christmas Day, I'm happy. Just relaxing at home, at peace, with little on my plate for the first time in a long time. 

Hello from the other side

Wow. It's quite a surprise to find myself back here. I've taken some time off from blogging these past few months. My last few posts occurred around the time I graduated from high school in early June. It's now December 3rd. I turned a year older two days ago, I'm about to finish my first semester of college, I'm dating someone who's a great source of companionship, and frankly, my life has metamorphosized into something I wouldn't have recognized a few months ago. I even use a PC now!

After some months off from blogging, I must say that I've missed this place. My goal in blogging on Revelation of the Revolution is to keep a digital journal, a diary, of my life. And one of the most rewarding parts of this diary keeping is re-reading what I wrote in the past. Reliving the thoughts, the questions, and the events that I've catalogued so carefully all these years is something that I'm grateful to be able to do thanks to this space. So I find myself here once again to continue that documentation so that the me in ten years doesn't forget all the precious moments these days. 

Perhaps one of the things I'm most grateful for these days is that I finally feel I've found myself fitting in socially in college. After high school, I frankly wasn't sure whether my social struggles were a "me" problem or a fit problem. And since coming here, I've made more friends than I did in my four years of high school and I'm rarely ever alone. I go out occasionally (probably not as much as I could), I have friends in my dorm on various floors, I feel like I can strike a conversation with anyone, and I don't feel like the idea of me is stigmatized. I've made friends with the people in my dorm, club tennis, and the pre-professional student investment club I joined. And these communities have been a healthy, much-needed addition to my life that, while better than high school, is still centred around my studies. 

The city is also something else I'm adjusting to. Having grown up in the suburbs and gone to boarding school in an even more rural town, Washington DC has been quite a change for me. Coming here has made me appreciate the peace and solemnity of my neighborhood back home. But there are some perks that I've quite enjoyed about living in the city. First, the city never sleeps. And this isn't even NYC. It seems that there are always people on the streets when I'm awake. Whenever I go on walks, I find myself window shopping, going to new restaurants, browsing boutique stores, and visiting cool historic sites. In fact, I've already visited all the historic houses in the Georgetown neighborhood since they're all within walking distance from campus. What an amazing perk about the city. Everything is just here at my fingertips waiting to be explored. But another thing I love about the city is the food. Even the most random restaurant in DC seems to top an upper echelon restaurant back home. So during the weekends, I make time to go out and try new restaurants.

Most importantly, as I take my first few steps into this new chapter of my life, I'm starting to see things less as a cause and effect. This change is the result of a paradigm shift in the way I few my time and the outcomes of events. In high school, I felt like I was constantly working towards one goal: getting into college. The problem was that I viewed everything as having a direct effect on that ultimate goal. Doing poorly on one test equaled not getting into college. Taking a course that I was interested in but not super relevant to what I wanted to study meant diminishing my chances of getting into college. Socializing meant not doing enough work which meant obstructing my shots towards my goal. I incorrectly viewed doing anything that didn't contribute to my resume as a waste of time and as a result, I didn't spend enough time cultivating areas of myself besides my intellect.

I feel like a different person in this community, in this new city, and in this new phase of my life. I spend time going to my favorite group fitness class because I know that even though I'm not studying during those minutes, it'll make me more productive for the rest of the day. I have permitted myself to open up to another person and cultivate the emotional, romantic side of me, which has unexpectedly taught me how to cope with emotions and how to feel innately human. I spend time socializing with people after classes and clubs rather than hurrying off to my next commitment because I've realized that the people I meet by virtue of being members of the same community are actually my friends, not just peers. I watched under a dozen movies while school was in session through four years of high school because I couldn't allow myself to relax. So yes, these days I allow myself to relax and have fun, which has actually shown me the power in taking a break when it's earned. As I reflect on my college experience thus far as my first semester comes to an end, I must say that all of these aspects of my life today have made me a happier and more fulfilled person. And for that, I'm grateful. 

Firefly Lane by Kristin Hannah

I haven't been blogging for a little while because I found a job this summer! I'm working at my local Sweetgreen, a fast-food salad chain during the afternoons and late nights. Fortunately, despite the late hours (I sometimes don't get home until past 10:30 PM), I've still found some time to read. I just finished Firefly Lane by Kristin Hannah. Hannah is one of my favorite modern-day writers and I've read other works by her including The Great Alone and The Nightingale. While Firefly Lane certainly had a very different feel to it compared to the other two books, it was a delight to read.

Firefly Lane tells the story of a 30-year friendship between two girls, Tully and Kate, beginning in middle school. The entirety of the book essentially shares their life story growing up together, getting their first jobs, and their lives during adulthood. These two girls at times are complete opposites but part of what makes the story so lively is how Hannah melds together these two polarizing characters. While Tully's mother is an alcoholic and drug addict, Kate grew up in a typical nuclear family. While Tully has always dreamed of being a news reporter, Kate seeks a more humble life as an at-home mom. While Tully is always the lion in the jungle, Kate seeks pleasure through laughter, love, and family. Despite certain parts of the story rearing off into unrealistic realms, overall, I loved how Hannah played with character development. And given that the entire storyline is dedicated to unveiling a friendship, I would say Hannah quite successfully executes evoking emotion and empathy from the reader towards each character. I particularly related to moments in Tully's narrative. As a career-first work-a-holic who struggles with loneliness, I thought Hannah's descriptions of Tully's emotions, expressions, and thought processes were true to the bone. 

Another naturally intriguing facet of Firefly Lane is the fact that it tells of a friendship that spans three decades, beginning in the seventies. I thought Hannah effectively illustrates "the changing times" of each decade by describing the trendy songs, clothing, and artists of the time. She transports the reader to a time not long ago but recent enough to relate to.

Firefly Lane has a simple plot and the events that occur throughout the story are almost mundane at times, particularly when Hannah describes Kate's life as an at-home mom or Tully's life after work. The quotidian nature of the story allows readers to connect to the life experiences of Tully and Kate, who in turn show us the values and principles that we should hold true to ourselves no matter what direction life takes us. Despite their lives taking different turns after college, both remain grounded in the fundamental idea of love. While Kate finds love through her family, Tully discovers that love can be for something like her career as a news anchor. Firefly Lane is about feeling, about touching the core of what makes us human.

The journey

 "Take pride in how far you've come. Have faith in how far you can go. But don't forget the journey." -Michael Josephson

These days, it is so easy to get consumed in what I must do next, what I must do in the future, to the point where it's easy to forget how far I've come. While high school was not the smoothest of years and looking back on it, I've identified things I would have done differently, I must still remember the journey. The ups and the downs. The lessons I learned. The people I met and the friendships I've built. To be honest, it's one of those things that I could just allow to slip out the back of the mind or it's an experience I can cherish and build upon. It's been almost two weeks since I've graduated and this reality is hitting me: how I want to store my high school years in my memory is up to me. At this thought, I'm reminded greatly of the movie Inside Out where each experience that Riley undergoes is stored as a memory that lives in different parts of her brain. There are a few "core" memories. Others rest in the forefront of her mind. There's also a library of her old memories, and of course, there's the collection of memories that have been permanently erased from Riley's mind. I wonder where I will put each of the memories that compose my high school career in my mind. While the natural phenomenon of time results in the fading of most memories into the "back of my mind" type, as Josephson suggests, I think it's important that I advertently hold on to some moments of my high school experience. Two weeks into my shortest summer vacation yet, it's really just hitting me that I'm moving on in life, that I've reached a new milestone. And as I've been trying to do all along with this blog, it's important to cherish the journey. 

Liminal Space

I've been done with classes since Thursday and I'm graduating in less than 12 hours. These past 48 ish hours have been what our school calls the "liminal space," or the time between when we graduate Andover officially and when we move onto our next phases of life. 

Caught in the liminal space is surreal. Truly. Although I planned AP prep into the liminal space, I had no time to do any of it. Time has flown in the last two days. I've constantly had an event to go to or something to do.

But this liminal space is also surreal in the sense that before closure really becomes closure, we are given no choice but to reflect. On Thursday night after classes, we had community convocation or Senior-fac. It was a picnic where students asked faculty to whom they were close. This tradition represents the celebration of graduation between the faculty and students. Last night, we had a prom. Prom is a moment to spend with our friends, a time to reflect on our Andover moments together, or rather, a celebration with our friends. Tonight, we had baccalaureate, which was a spiritual moment to be in solitude with our class. The chapel lights were turned off and each senior held a lit candle up in the air.  This was a moment to celebrate and sit with ourselves. And tomorrow morning at 9 AM, we will have graduation. This is a moment to celebrate our completion of high school with our families. 

All of these events take place in the span of a liminal space of around 72 hours. It amazes me how many closures have happened so far, with our teachers, friends, ourselves, and tomorrow, with our families. And I'm so grateful to be spending time with important people in my life during this liminal space. Frankly, I'm a mix of excited and scared of what will happen once I exit this space to continue on with the next chapter of my life and in a way, I've found comfort in the liminal space, knowing that I'm on my way to completing something without having to worry about the next. But regardless of all the mixed emotions, I'm feeling right now, I must say one thing: thank you, Andover. For the highs and lows and for showing me what it means to work hard. 

Final Weekend

I can barely describe how I feel. It's a bittersweet moment for me. I'm leaving the school I've attended for four years, the place I've gotten to know so well, in one week. One week. Then I become an alumnus of this institution. I cannot believe it. I still remember so vividly the day I moved into Isham, how surprised I was that there was an elevator in the dorm, touched by the seniors who helped me move my belonging into my room, sweating from the torturously hot day. I still remember that day so clearly. I remember my body shaking unrelentingly the morning we were driving up to campus. I told myself that I wouldn't be nervous, that I would have myself under control. But at the sight of the bell tower during my first move-in day, even my arms began to shake. Did I belong here? Was I accepted by accident? 

I cannot believe I'm one week away from leaving this institution. I simply cannot believe how quickly these past four years have flown by. Truly in the blink of an eye. Now on my way out of Andover, I have a couple of things sitting in front of me. I have a pile of finals work to complete. No, this is not the time to give up. In fact, this is the last final opportunity for me to actually show my ability to work. I accomplished some more bucket list items this week, including going to the Addison Gallery of American Art and going downtown to La Fina for dinner with my family tonight. Perhaps one last thing that I need to do is find the "secret garden" on the Abbot campus. 

I am flooded with feelings of gratitude for my parents, peers, instructors, and coaches who have guided me these four years. I am also growing oddly introspective lately about how I've changed as a person after coming to Andover. I'm reflecting on the dos and don'ts that I've learned here that will hopefully make my college experience even better. This morning on the elliptical, I began trying to put together some funny moments during these last four years. This place has paradoxically sucked out a lot of energy from me, but it's also given me so much life. It's one of those ineffable balances that leaves me shaken to consider. And here I am, on my last stretch at Andover, still stressed about an English essay, a history research paper, and a math test. A norm that I've honestly grown to love. Busyness is golden. 

Some emojis describing how I'm feeling right now because when life becomes inexplicable, we should turn to art:

And yes, the order matters :)

Thank you, Andover. For the ups, the downs, and everything in between. 

 

My final tennis match of high school

It's been four years since I stepped onto Andover's campus as a student. Yet through the years, tennis season has indubitably been the backdrop of many of my fondest memories. Being on the team has made me a better team player, a more accountable person, and taught me how to support my peers better. While tennis is an "individual" sport, our wins don't come unless everyone feels supported. Being a part of this greater collective has been the most enjoyable part of each season. 

Today, in a sweltering hot 88 degrees, I played my last match of the season…my last match of senior year…and my last tennis match of my high school career. And unsurprisingly, this match was against our rival: Exeter. I write tonight to remember this amazing match, which was one characterized by grit, perseverance, and "momentum" as our coach likes to call it. 

During our warmup, I remember my body feeling sticky already. As I was standing at the net for some volleys, I was surprised by how merely standing there incited sweat to seep through my skin. We kicked off the match with singles. I played line 4, and after running through the lineup, we began warming up with our opponents. I played the same girl in singles whom I had lost 3-6, 3-6 to last week. It was also a hot day last Saturday, but nothing compared to the heat on the courts today. So during the warmups, I was wary, knowing that I'd been beaten last week. We each held serve until it was 2-3 her. Then, I broke away 4-3 at the changeover. Feeling happy about breaking her serve, I found momentum within myself to hit through my shots. But then, she caught up. The score was 6-5 me, and I lost the game. 6-6. I don't even remember what was going through my head at that moment, though I do remember losing the game by a hefty margin. I don't know how I got my momentum back, but I somehow won 7-2 in the tiebreak. 

In our second set, I lost 3-6. I felt out of it. Coach walked up to me and told me that she could literally tell I was losing from the bleachers and that what I needed was an attitude change. Walking into the 10-point super tiebreak that would determine the match, I told myself, this is a clean slate. I have a chance now. I just need to break through and win the first couple of points to get a lead. And I found that lead. It was 5-2 during the first changeover (yes, we should have changed the point before). Then 7-5 during the next change over. Finally, at 9-6, I told myself, this is it. This is the point that I would win. I don't actually remember the shot that I hit but I remember my opponent's ball went out. It was one of those matches that took 3 hours and 24 minutes (yes I timed it) and left both of us tired and just wanting to get over with it. But I'm both proud and surprised by how I pushed through. While I didn't hit with the pace that I would have liked, I think that's what helped me win this week since last week. So 6-6 (7-2); 3-6; 10-6. When our match was over, all the other singles matches had been over for a while and doubles had begun. Coach told me that my match tied us up with Exeter. After singles, Andover-Exeter was 3-3.

Since my singles match took much longer than the others, my doubles match with PB started and ended last. We played #2 doubles and halfway through our match, the other two doubles teams finished. Our #1 dubs had lost and our #3 dubs had won, meaning the Andover-Exeter score was still tied 4-4. With everyone watching our match, PB and I knew that we were the determining game for this match. We started strong, up 3-0. But then, our opponents slowly began to creep up behind us, always just a game behind. The last score I remember was being up 7-5. We were up in the set 40-15 and Exeter was on serve and I was on the backhand side. The final point consisted of a couple of high groundstrokes and the winning shot was a short volley by me at the net. I think I will remember that ball forever. I've never hit the winning stroke by a forced error in a doubles match. It came just above my comfortable strike zone, floating towards the middle of the court. I bumped it over with a short volley that was so short I wasn't even sure it had gone over the net after I hit it. At this point, I thought I'd framed the shot and I kept thinking whether it was the right move to poach. But then moments later, I saw both Exeter girls rushing towards the net which was when I realized it had actually gone over. But it was too late. By the time it registered in my brain that they were running, the ball had already bounced twice. I let out a huge scream and the next thing I remember is the team, who had been watching on the sidelines, rush towards our court. 

Coach repeatedly tells us: "tennis is all about creating your own momentum." This is perhaps the greatest lesson I've learned this season. Our match against Exeter today, in particular, showed me how momentum can indeed be generated from nothing but ourselves and how powerful it is in spite of encounters with skilled players. In fact, momentum comes from elevating every shot. Framed it? AMAZING SHOT! It's having that kind of mentality that enabled me to win both of my matches today. Two weeks ago, Pingree beat us 2-7. Last week, Exeter swept our team, as in, every single person on our team lost. Today, we won 5-4, our first win and last game. This makes me so happy and despite the stress of this match, for both Coach and each player, I am convinced that this was the best A/E I've had during high school. But I also learned an important lesson that I will carry with me because Coach's theory on momentum applies beyond the court too. Life is all about building momentum and confidence within ourselves in order to put forth our best selves in everything we do. Sometimes we just have to say those points that we win from a shank or frame are nevertheless good shots.

A Weekend of Firsts

Another long weekend just passed. With this new schedule, "long" weekends this year have been 4 days, meaning we get both Monday and Tuesday off from classes. This has been one of the greatest rewards of the schedule this year, which has really enabled me to relax during weekends. Perhaps a nice treat during senior year. 

The timing of this long weekend couldn't have been better because the countdown towards graduation is getting more real every day. There are something like 26 more days until I officially become an alumnus of Andover. Only 26 days until I become a high school graduate and begin a new chapter of my life. Turning the page. So this long weekend, I put off my work more than I would usually feel comfortable doing to get in some firsts and check off bucket-list items.

I went to Pomps Pond for the first time this weekend! Since Pomps is around 2 miles each way from campus, I ran there on my Sunday morning run. It's a shame that I never thought of going to Pomps earlier during my time at Andover. It's a peaceful, though small beach with a lake that's surrounded by lots of trees. It's located next to a graveyard, which means traffic noises are minimal. On Sunday, it was sunny, bright, and warm, so I just stood on the beach in my running shoes and admired this view for 15 minutes. The air was fresh, crisp and there wasn't a single person around. 

Pomps Pond, Andover MA

I also went up to the Bell Tower on campus for the first time. Though the Bell Tower is arguably one of the most iconic structures on campus, it's mysterious because few people have ever been up. Every hour, the bells ring, and every evening at 5 PM our chaplain goes to the Bell Tower to play music, signaling the commencement of dinner. The bells are super loud, so they can be heard even from the most remote corners of campus. On another note, the Bell Tower was the first thing I saw when I visited Andover's campus back in eighth grade driving up Main Street. This is still the street and direction I come from when I drive to Andover so I'll always remember it as the marker visible long in the distance of campus's proximity. 

Bell Tower at night

I also took my first AP exam yesterday, though I don't have pictures of that (how sad :P). I sat for Macroeconomics, and even though I didn't take the class at school, I thought it was a good experience to self-study a subject and test myself on it. I'm not preoccupied with the grade, rather, I see it as a good learning experience. Paired with recent news headlines, particularly regarding interest rates, inflation, and unemployment, self-studying macro actually helped me understand the world around me better. 

Finally, I took my first cooking class here at Andover tonight! Our chef instructor works at a non-profit called Newall that aims to give everybody access to clean food that's "grown with love for the earth and that nourishes the body." Through sustainable and new farming techniques, she believes strongly in this mission. That's why she taught us how to make overnight salads from SCRATCH with farm-fresh ingredients. This is my first time ever making even the dressing of the salad, but it was super enlightening to learn how the ingredients work together. We used oregano, green onion, olive oil, honey, sun nut butter, ice water, salt, and lemon for the dressing. Then, we mixed in chopped lettuce, radishes, carrots, white radishes, and raisins. I learned that I've been holding the kitchen knife in my hand wrong this entire time LOL.

Twisted carrots

Salad dressings!

My two salads :))

I had an amazing long weekend, the kind that I envisioned characterizing my senior spring years back. Although we're still in the middle of a pandemic, it honestly didn't feel like it. This was truly one incredible (not to mention busy) weekend and I'm so grateful for each of these events, all of the meals I enjoyed with people, and the time I spent outdoors. Definitely one for the books. 

Believing in oneself

One of the hardest things with which I've struggled from a young age is believing in myself. I've consistently found it hard to believe in my own abilities and this manifests in my life through small venues. From an anxious test-taking mentality (even if I've spent ample time preparing) to feeling imposter syndrome in classroom settings, there's this little voice in my head that's always telling me what could go wrong rather than how I should approach what lies before me. 

Perhaps my struggle to believe in myself manifests most clearly in sports, as contradicting as this may sound. It's springtime, my favorite season, which also means tennis season. Ever since I began playing tennis, I've found myself hitting well during practice. I swing through my shots fully, am not afraid to hit 100% when I'm putting away the point, and move my feet better across the court. Yet when I start playing matches or keeping track of points, something tenses up in me. My bones seem to turn into iron, preventing any sort of fluid movement. The way I practice seems to have never existed and my ability to swing through shots diminishes to maybe just 60% of what I usually can hit. During matches, what runs through my head should be "how am I going to hit that ball?" Instead, what I often find running through my head is "don't hit it out." That's what I've called my "bad mental game" all these years. Yet recently it became clear to me that it's not just as simple as one's "mental game." I believe it speaks to a greater mental barrier, or rather, this struggle to believe in myself. I am convinced that if I believed in my own ability to put the ball where I wanted to, I wouldn't play this way in matches.  

I'm working on getting over this barrier through tennis and hoping that playing this sport will encourage more self-encouragement in other areas of my life socially and academically. I need to get over selling myself short, so this week, I wanted to write about one shot I hit in a game that felt incredible. My partner and I were playing doubles and we were approaching the next for a short ball. It landed in the court, bouncing just behind the service line on my forehand side. The first thing that went through my head was "I'm going to keep my racket face closed." Then, as I began to swing, I said to myself "I'm going to end the point here." In doubles, middle balls are actually a difficult shot to receive since it requires more communication and if the other pair isn't positioned properly on the court, it could easily turn into a winner. And that's exactly what happened. The ball land down the middle, just beyond the service line, and just out of reach of both partners. A middle winner. An automatic point for us. At first, I was shocked that I had been able to hit at 100%, and the second after, I couldn't believe the ball had actually gone in. It was a surprising, surreal moment for me in a time when I've been struggling more than ever to see the light at the end of the tunnel. That point though is one to remember. 

Perhaps all we must do is turn to Descartes: I think, therefore I am. 

Sinusoidal nature

Life is a rollercoaster. This is something I've learned since freshman year, coming to a pressure cooker environment that I've come to know as "high school." This colossal experience consists of moments of highs and equally important, low points. Yet being here over the past four years has taught me something invaluable: the humbling nature of being at a low point. It's a moment that washes me in emotions, confusion, frustration, and sincere desperation. But a low point acts as both a torrent and a respite. It's both a point of reflection and a point of inflection. 

But if life's highs and lows are sinusoidal, then aren't we bound to come across a low after a high? This is something I've also grown anxious about over the years. Whenever I experience a period of prolonged happiness, I fear the pain that's bound to come. I see it lurking around the corner, waiting for the moment to crash upon the bliss that made me too comfortable for too long. This way of thinking has caused me great anxiety over the years. I've always been cautious to declare happiness and to indulge in joy. I'm scared that a low will pounce upon that opportune moment to send me into even greater pain if I do. 

Lately, I've been trying to change the way that I look at lows. I believe this is the long-term solution to getting over my anxiety. As I wrote earlier, I've found lows to be some of the most humbling moments of my life. It's a time when things fall back into perspective and when I begin to see myself clearly in the grander scheme of things. It's a time when failures help me reset, find ways to adapt, and come back better. And given the sinusoidal nature of life's highs and lows, I'm starting to believe that life is about being humbled over and over. And that each time, we are given the opportunity to fall deeper or come back stronger. 

Until you cross the bridge

"Until you cross the bridge of your insecurities, you can't begin to explore your possibilities" -Tim Fargo

Tomorrow

In-person classes commence tomorrow, as our 10-day quarantine ended this weekend. I'm struck by how much time has passed since I've been in a classroom with people. This evening during our dorm meeting, we literally addressed the process of returning to class in person, something we would have never talked about in previous years. There's now a new need to prepare backpacks early, to charge computers the night before, to leave the dorm 10 minutes earlier to walk to the classroom, to wake up an hour earlier to get breakfast. All of these habitual actions that have been ingrained in us for years seem to have disappeared during the pandemic. Readjusting to in-person classes will certainly be something on my mind for the next few days and I will need to plan out my days better to accommodate walking times. 

But when I think back on my experience as a remote student this past year, which is no insignificant amount of time, I'm amazed by how the pandemic has thrown out the window everything we knew as students and simplified life. Gone are the days where I would schedule my day so that I managed to log onto my computer 2 minutes before class started. Gone are the days where I could eat lunch whenever I pleased because I was constantly at home. But I'm excited that life is returning to some sense of normalcy and where school days are blocked out as class time, sports, and study hours. 

And more strikingly, this is my last term at Andover. My last term as a high schooler. After quarantine on Friday, I was able to spend a lot of time walking around campus. I noticed that when I walk through campus, it appears different and new ideas burst through my mind. It's not just school work, tests, and social events that bog me down, but rather, savoring my last moments on this campus as a student, my last moments as a high schooler, and the fact that I'll be departing from this place that I've grown so familiar with over the last four years. Something I've realized during my four years is that I've rarely stopped to capture the beauty of the campus. I'm not sure whether being a remote student for an entire year has helped me appreciate campus more or whether the pull comes more from reconciling with my last term as a student. However, there are certain "views" or angles of campus that I've particularly enjoyed over my four years. Perhaps not even a view, just a particular juxtaposition of buildings and landscape that exudes a warm, happy, and grandiose sense in me when I walk by. For my last couple of weeks as a student at Andover, I'm going to spend some time capturing photos around campus when I walk by places that elicit this positive, peaceful feeling. 

Quarantine

I'm back at school and spring term has commenced. Just one week ago, I was sitting at my desk in my house and now, I find myself 30 miles away from home in a dormitory of 40 girls. Perhaps this is another testament to the fact that so much can change in just one week. 

I'm excited to be back at school in a dorm. While I haven't seen many people my age since I'm prefecting in a freshman/sophomore dorm, simply being around so many other people is exciting to me. Being at home for a full year has definitely skewed my perspective on social life. At home, it was just my parents and me so it almost became normal to see just 2 people regularly. Yet at school, I'm surprised by the fact that even though we're in quarantine, we can still see other people. The dorm eats meals together, which provides a sole, precious hour of socializing. More importantly, being with other people has reinstilled who I am in the broader world. Being at home for a full year with just my family has shrouded my ability to remember the person I become in larger groups, as everyone fills a different "role" in social circles that's unique to them. I believe we lose that sense of ourselves, that context of our identities, when we don't interact with many others regularly. 

And finally, I'm pleased to say that quarantine has greatly surpassed my expectations. We have three opportunities to go outside every day, allowing plenty of time for fresh-air and walks. This has been critical to helping quarantine pass smoothly. To be frank, I go out about that many times per day at home anyway, spending the rest of my time in my room working. So the only major change is when I can go out. And I've also been fortunate to be able to continue exercising in my dorm room, having brought a yoga mat with me. I've continued my high-intensity workouts and pilates routines which have helped me feel relaxed and stay productive throughout the day. 

While quarantine is certainly not the most ideal circumstance and campus feels vacant because of it, from what I've been told, it is totally worth it. Reconnecting with friends will almost feel normal afterward, as the sports program will continue in the afternoons along with in-person classes. More importantly, I'm hoping to find outlets to reconnect together with the rest of the senior class. Senior year is a precious time. It's one where people begin to let their guards down, slow the pace of life, and where the class can cherish our final moments together. Because of the pandemic, this level of bonding hasn't manifested in our class, but I'm optimistic that it will in the upcoming weeks once lockdown ends. The countdown is surely on. We're already 50% through, so just 5 more days!

Flipping narratives

This week, a mass shooting occurred in Atlanta. A white man walked into 3 different spas and shot 8 people, 6 of whom were Asian women. While this shooting was irrefutably an act of hate crime, the shooter said he was trying to overcome his "sexual addiction." I've been processing the news this past week, and my thoughts echo what many others have voiced. What angers me is that Captain Jay Baker, who had previously shared anti-Asian posts on social media, could say that the shooter just had a "bad day." When did a "bad day" warrant hate crime? One insightful article on the NYTimes that I wanted to share is called "Asian-Americans are being attacked. Why are hate crime charges so rare?" I think this article offers a clear explanation regarding the difficulty of proving a racial motive for hate crimes against Asian-Americans. 

But I want to return to the shooting that took place this past week. I couldn't believe my ears when I heard that Robert Aaron Long shot 6 Asian women to stop his "sexual addiction." I mean, really? This proclamation reflects how culturally screwed up this country can be. Asian women are first stereotyped by the news, by books, by Hollywood, as sexually submissive, exotic creatures. The media valorized Asian women. Then COVID-19 hit, followed by offensive rhetoric from the former president that blamed Asian-Americans for the coronavirus. And now, a criminal has taken these stereotypes and exploited them to cover what are clearly hate crimes. As the NYTimes article said, even this will be hard to prosecute. 

I've also been thinking about the flipping narratives for Asian-Americans. For one, we are looked upon as the "model minority." We are supposed to represent how the American Dream can be obtained through hard work, obedience, and decency. Is this the first hate crime against Asians? No. But I've noticed major media sites rarely highlight Asian hate-crime, perhaps out of a fear that it will shatter the idea of the American Dream narrative for racial minorities. But then, when the pandemic wreaked havoc, we've been scapegoated by some extremists as the cause of the coronavirus. This scapegoating also drove the Japanese internment. It feels as if we fill in vacancies and inconsistencies in America's narrative. We tend to gashes wherever they open. 

I'm still struggling to string together my feelings on paper. There's just so much happening emotionally right now amongst the AAPI community. But what's sad is that I foresee many more hate crimes against racial minorities occurring. Rhetoric, compounded by social media's pervasiveness, is more important than ever. I've noticed this in myself. I, for one, don't feel the same when I walk outside. There's a tenseness in me, a newfound alertness. But perhaps what's saddest of all is that what happened this week wasn't surprising at all.

Readings lately

Around here, life has not simmered down the way I envisioned. So far, my spring break has been filled with activities, anxiety, and what feels like a long-list of to-dos that I never quite finish by the time my head hits the pillow. I've been balancing driver's ed along with AP prep and outside appointments while trying to find time to relax by watching movies with my ill cat. Along with this accretion of things to do, the stress of college admissions tops it off. Every day, new articles seem to pop up in the news regarding various aspects of this college admissions cycle.  But one thing has been keeping me grounded, and it's been reading the news (as contradicting as it may seem) and Shakespeare's plays.

Lately, the news has found a unique way of imbuing me with hope. There's a tangible light at the end of the tunnel and I can feel this energy when I open up various news apps. And while unfortunate events certainly show up in my feed, a major component of the news lately has been vaccination updates. The speed at which the United States has been able to vaccinate people amazes me. We've vaccinated over 100 million people just 50 days into Biden's presidency and the country is averaging 2 million vaccine shots per day. And earlier this week, President Biden announced that by May 1st, all adults will be eligible to sign up for a vaccine. This is simply amazing to me, considering the size of the US and the difficulty of helping people in rural areas access the vaccine. I keep reflecting on where we were just one year ago, locked up in our houses, afraid to leave our doors, wondering when life would return to normal. From the start, I had a feeling that life wouldn't glimpse normalcy until a vaccine rolled out but frankly, I didn't anticipate this moment to come so quickly. Perhaps this shows the strength of this country when emergency beckons or rather, the amazing frontiers that the US can propel in times of hardship when governments and businesses collaborate. 

I've also spent some time reading Shakespeare's plays lately. I finished Macbeth this week and I'm reading Hamlet now. Shakespeare's plays are clearly celebrated quite universally, but I consistently had a hard time grasping his old English when I tried reading them earlier. I took a break and coming back to it now, I'm surprised by how my reading comprehension has improved through high school, as I'm now able to better understand how Shakespeare employs language. His plays are quirky, dark, and rooted in lessons and understandings about human morale. I'm completely drawn to this works and I anticipate reading more of his plays later. 

This past year has been difficult for everyone, so I hope everyone has found some way or activity to ground themselves in truth and sanity. Reading has been my source of peace lately, but I'm so very much looking forward to returning to campus in the spring. Having not socialized or interacted with people my age for over a year in person, I imagine that I will need a period of reckoning with how to do so! But my oh my, this year has been crazy. Only one more week to go before the bell tower appears in the window of my car. 

The Estuary Between Light and Dark

The Winter term is over and I'm cruising into Spring Break. The days slowly elongate, as if the sky is reckoning with the fact that at some point shortly, there will be more sun than moon. Every time this year, I wake up to faint rays of sun peering in through my curtains, confusing me about what time of day it is. When I glance at my clock, I'm surprised that it's an hour earlier. I love that my mornings aren't greeted by the residue of the night, but by the glimmer of day. This inspires hope and happiness into my day; something to look forward to. The first two weeks of March is one of my favorite times of the year. It's a time to appreciate that I made it through the winter, and to celebrate all the activities that the warmer weather invites. 

When I walk outside, the air is different too. It doesn't greet the skin on my face with a cold, hard no. Instead, it's dewier, fresher, and tingles around the corners where my mask meets the skin of my face. Afternoon strolls are the best right now. When I go out from between 3-4 PM, the sun is just beginning to set. It casts golden rays through the evergreens, which seem almost to lift their slouched branches at the prospect of longer, warmer days. I glance at the grass. Even though what I see are the remains of last year's lawns, the grass looks hopeful atop the muddy earth, wet from the remaining mounds of melting, dirty snow. 

And finally, people are evidently happier. Most people have recognized that the worst of winter is (hopefully/probably) over, and for a city that's buried in snow for far too many more months than most residents would like, this period of time is almost like the estuary between light and dark. It's during these brief, precious weeks of the year, that the darkness of winter and the lightness of the upcoming warmer months blend together. In the grocery store, I see people less grouchy, less harried. In my neighborhood, people aren't drowning in thick scarves, hats, and gloves when they walk so they wave. I'll cherish these last weeks at home during this precious time of year before spring waves hello.  

100 days

Today marks the annual "100 Days Party." An Andover tradition. It's something I've been looking forward to since freshman year. The 100 Days Party takes place during the final weekend of Winter term and it's seniors only. It marks 100 remaining days until our class graduates…including weekends. I'm remote this term, so I haven't been able to see my friends for a year at this point. This also means that I won't be able to attend the 100 Days Party, which is taking place as I write. 

It's a day to celebrate the graduating class. 2021. What a ride we've been on. This party marks a quarter of our lost time together as a grade. We've missed many traditions. Besides the 100 Days Party, missing the Vista Walk on the first day of school left a dent in my spirit. I was also greatly looking forward to the boat cruise in the Boston Harbor during senior fall. We've seen the highs and lows of Andover. We've seen this institution shine and we've seen it struggle. And the students in the class have been working relentlessly to drive positive change as student leaders, prefects/proctors, and role models. I've worked with some of them, and I'm still continuously inspired by my peers. 

But we've also lost time together and I hope this class finds a way to reunite as one. We're scattered all over the world as of now. Those who decided to return to campus for the last month of Winter term are bringing parts of the puzzle together. But this class, which usually comes together every fall onto one campus from all quarters of the world, has remained scattered in these quarters. Yet what's more inspiring is the fact that we haven't lost connection with one another. We haven't forgotten each other. The 100 Days Party is a testament to this fact. Superlatives are announced during the 100 Days Party, where students nominate each other for around 30 different categories. The fact that different students were nominated for each category means that even after a year of remote learning, we still recall the memories, traits, and personalities of the individuals in our class. 

The 100 Days Party is a bittersweet moment. It's certainly a time to celebrate the graduating class. However, it's equally a time to realize that these are my last 100 days as a high schooler. I'll never return to this age or moment of life again. And when this second thought comes to mind, I can't help but think about the things I want to do before I graduate. The first thing that immediately comes to mind is attending a Brace Presentation. I need to do this in the Spring when I'm back on campus. I would also like to wake up early one day and watch the sunset on Siberia, or what we call our soccer fields. I'm usually up around this time, but in the middle of a workout. I haven't spent the time actually appreciating the peacefulness of campus early in the morning when 95% of campus is asleep. Finally, I cannot wait to serve as a residential prefect in a freshman dorm in the spring. I've always wanted to prefect/proctor a dorm and I'm really looking forward to this opportunity to work with the younger students on campus. 

Winter term comes to an end this Friday. Meanwhile, I'll be savoring my final months as a high schooler. More responsibilities surely come with going to college so perhaps this is also my last couple of months as a true kid.

 

Where there's joy

"Find a place inside where there's joy, and the joy will burn out the pain" - Joseph Campbell

I found this little quote on the bottom of my Google Chrome Momentum extension. As my final winter term of high school comes to a close in two weeks, I'm inadvertently, entirely counter to plan, stuck at home in the midst of a global pandemic. Whereas I'm experiencing pain from not being able to see my friends, from hearing about the dire problems happening around the world, and from watching ugliness continue to unfold with policymakers play politics with people's lives, I'm finding solace listening to new podcasts and trying to discover something new every day. There are always inklings of joy to be found. For me, I'm currently seeking them through driving, learning new things, and helping students with math through a free math help account I started on Instagram.

Reflections on Friendship

This morning, I woke up to my friend's text. She said, "OMG Ava, I just found our emails from the first few days of freshman year." This was written in all caps by the way. She forwarded me our exchange. I was emailing her, asking whether she could help me print my french homework since she was still at the library. Then our conversation took off from there. We became really close friends from that moment onwards. 

I reread our chain of emails. It's something I don't frequently do since I have a bad habit of dwelling on the past. But my friend brought it to my attention this morning and the first thing that struck me was the formality of our exchange. We began each letter with "Dear" and ended with "Thank you." We wrote in complete sentences and we evidently placed great effort into the crafting of each sentence. Discerning the stark difference between how we communicated during the first few days of high school versus how we communicate today is truly a testament to the evolution of our friendship. 

With CX, I learned abbreviations. We have our own series of styles and ways of texting. We drop articles and mess with grammar rules for simplification, allowing the rapid nature of our exchanges to flow out of our heads onto the screen at an adequate rate. Hesitancy or difficulty in describing something is depicted over text with the word like. Our favorite emoji: 😂. In fact, texting over the years with CX has quickly made the laughing crying face my most popular emoji. With CX, I use this emoji to express true laughter and happiness. Contrarily, for others with whom I'm less familiar, this emoji has taken on a different meaning, as I learned from CX. It has become my nervous/hesitant go-to. 

Our texts have evolved with our friendship. From something formal to something other people might struggle to follow, perhaps the character of our texts reveals the nature of our friendship. In fact, one of my friends in the class of 2019 told me once, "I don't understand how you and CX are friends. You're just…polar opposites." And I agree with her to a certain extent. While I'm usually early to commitments, CX is more last minute. While my room is spotless, CX lives in perpetual disorganization. While I socialize when I'm done with homework, CX is one of the most hardworking people I know and she keeps working after homework, sleeping in the early morning hours of the following day. CX and I may differ in certain regards but the way our friendship has evolved reflects the fact that fundamentally, there are values, principles, and beliefs through which we relate. Or perhaps it reflects the hardiness of friendship: it can surpass what others may deem polar opposites. 

I'm forever grateful for CX. She's the person whom I trust most in high school and she's my closest friend. She's influenced many of the values I've developed over high school and showed me what hard work actually entails. 

Driving!

This weekend, I got behind the wheel for the first time in my life. It doesn't matter that I stayed in the high school parking lot or that I inched along the road at 5 mph, I began my driving journey. I believe driving is a major milestone in a person's life. While driving transports people from A to B faster than walking in a literal sense or in high school identifies upperclassmen and lowerclassmen, at its core, driving to me equates to a form of freedom. It's the ability to get myself where I need to go at the time I need to go without hounding my parents, which I believe is a crucial measure of the independence one gains between childhood and adulthood. 

I drive very slowly right now, but this is normal. This morning, I went out to the parking lot for my second time ever and I managed to actually use the gas pedal! My turns are getting smoother and I'm starting to work with the car rather than try to force maneuvers. Oddly, when I'm driving, I find myself thinking about Henry Ford and his revolutionary idea behind the automobile. I keep thinking about the fact that I'm just a high school kid…and I'm learning how to drive by the design of Ford's vision to make driving accessible to everyone. It's for that very reason, that driving wasn't only an accessory, a luxury, or a skill requiring a high degree of intellect, that I find myself driving amongst millions of others today. 

I've got a long way to go, as I've driven a total of just over 3 hours. While this is a routine process for everyone who has learned to drive, I wanted to write about embarking on this experience today because I began another milestone of my life. It's another one of those bucket list items that "transports" one from childhood to adulthood. 

Things I love lately

February! Onto the second month of 2021. Seniors were invited back to campus for a month, but I chose to stay home until the spring term when I can squeeze in a full term with the same length quarantine. So here I am, finishing the last stretch of my last winter term of high school, living through a global pandemic and a major nor'easter that's hitting a large portion of the east coast. Yet even in these dark, bleary, snowy, and windy days, I'm still finding ways to appreciate life. I admit it's been particularly difficult to try new things during the pandemic as a consequence of being restricted to my house, so these are small trinkets that add inklings of joy to my day. 

Into the Wild (2007). spoiler alert **So this movie came out when I was just 4 so I'd like to believe that's the reason I missed this hit. I watched Into the Wild over the weekend, as per the recommendation of my dad, and days later, I find myself still reflecting upon the life of Christopher McCandless. McCandless was born to a wealthy family, but after graduating a top student from college, all he sought to do was "go North" to Alaska. McCandless burned the remainders of his trust fund, burned his SSN, and left his family without a trace, ultimately dying in Alaska due to starvation. After watching the movie, I read a couple of articles about McCandless in the New Yorker, learning to my surprise that he only survived for 113 days in Alaska. I was particularly drawn to the movie because McCandless's life really touched upon the fundamental fact that there exist many types of people in this world who have diverse aspirations in life. Moreso, there's a really interesting moral dispute behind this movie, which was adapted from the book by Jon Krakauer, questioning whether it glorifies McCandless's somewhat self-destructive, whimsical mentality or whether it celebrates the wilderness and freedom from the ills of civilization. 

White Fragility by Robin DiAngelo. This book has been on my to-read list for years. In fact, since it was first published in 2018. I first encountered this book in my school's library, and no one seemed to check it out. But I finally found the opportunity to read it and it has transformed the way I see race in America. While I've always been aware of racism and white supremacy, I didn't understand how it could seep into societal institutions, residential neighborhoods, and word choice. It's an insightful book, one that's uncomfortable to read at times, but I would totally recommend it. 

Effie's Biscuits. These are a delightful treat that my family constantly stocks in our pantry these days. We've gone through four flavors already, Oatcake (the OG), Cocoa, Pecan, and Corn. I'm not even kidding, I love all of them. I also find the history of the family business quite intriguing. Effie MacLellan, who moved from Nova Scotia to Dorchester, MA, invented this delicious treat decades ago. Yet, it was her daughter's generation that knew they had to share this delicious treat with the rest of the world. Hence, they launched Effie's Homemade! I love ending a meal with these little squares of joy. They're just the right amount of sweetness, crunchiness, and crispness. 

Baking banana bread. I used to be an avid baker back in middle school, but after I started going to boarding school, I lost my touch with the oven. My mom phrases it in Chinese as "I seem to have reversed course and become more of a child." Being in the middle of a global pandemic has changed this and over the past couple of months, I've reconnected with baking. In particular, I've grown skilled at making banana bread. I don't like sour cream, so nailing the moistness has been a challenge, but I've discovered that adding a ton of bananas does the trick.

The stretch between now and the spring term feels longer this year than in the past. Perhaps this is due to the fact that I haven't been on campus for almost a year! Whereas we used to have periodical breaks, such as winter break, this year has slurred together into one train. It's been tedious at times, but I'm pushing through. There is light at the end of the tunnel. And the things I love lately will, as always, help me get there. 

A Reflection on Andover Business Club

This past week, I organized board turnovers for Andover Business Club, the club I founded in ninth grade. What struck me most was how much this club has grown and evolved during the last four years since its founding, and it's hard to believe the ABC's evolution wasn't something I'd noticed quite as saliently before. Perhaps this speaks to the nature of being so stuck in the moment that I hadn't really taken a step back, taken a bird's-eye view of the club, and seen the sweat and effort of the current board. 

When I reflected on this club, everything felt as it should be. Everything we possessed–a club blog, a prolific Instagram, an established email list of 300 people, and our Abbot Grant–felt "normal." It felt inherent in being a member of ABC, knowing that these tools existed, and I think I began to take these things for granted. That is, until board turnovers lead me to pass everything ABC owned to the Class of 2022. It suddenly reminded me of how this club began. 

It began four years ago in my second term of high school, standing alone with a poster board at the quietest Club Rally of the year. As a freshman, I had little idea how Club Rally worked. But I noticed how most club stands had at least two people manning them. It was predominantly upperclassmen at the stands, trying to sell their club to younger members. Freshman-me had little idea of this. I felt out of place as the youngest member of the school trying to sell their club idea to older students. Yet that's how ABC began. It began with an email list of 0 and a poster board in the corner of the Commons during winter Club Rally. 

During our first year, there were just 10 consistent members, all of whom I later nominated to the board. I was the only girl and the youngest member. It was during our first year that I began establishing the club blog to track our discussions each week. Year 2 was perhaps the most tumultuous. ABC grew from a discussion-based club to one that launched real ventures. We began with BluBoxes, an on-campus delivery service for toiletries, school supplies, and snacks (it was primarily snacks lol). We wanted to be the Amazon of Andover and sell these goods at cheaper prices than CVS. But ABC had $0 in startup funds. In fact, the BluBoxes funding came from one of our board member's personal pocket. 

That spring, I decided that personal funds weren't sustainable so I applied for an Abbot Grant. I remember writing the 5 page long application, filled head-to-toe with words. Then, one night, I dressed up in my best dress with a white cardigan to present Andover Business Club's idea–and why we needed funding–to the Abbot Grant committee. Merely in my second year at Andover, I had no idea that Abbot Grants were usually given to teachers to fund certain projects or for clubs to bring in speaker, but never for business ventures. I was also first on the list, being "Andover Business Club." I was surprised a few weeks later to receive news that I'd successfully harnessed $2000 for the club.

With ample funding for our ventures, an established email list, and growing membership to the club, Year 3 was about making Andover Business Club more inclusive and accessible. In fact, this goal is so imperative that it's something I told the new board to continue pursuing. ABC had already existed for 2 years, yet at the start of Year 3, I was still the only girl in the club. We heavily recruited underclassmen and girls that year. And by the start of Year 4, we had three girls readily involved. 

This year, ABC meet over Zoom meetings, so I was surprised when I saw many girls in the class of 2024 join the club. Now, having lead my last ABC meeting, I'm proud to say that almost 40% of the club consists of girls. 

ABC has evolved tremendously over the years. In fact, during Year 2, I thought the club wouldn't make it after the logistics of running ventures and doing discussions threatened to tear apart the club. But with the guidance of our club advisor, we managed to make it through. I'm tremendously proud of all this club has accomplished, and it was hard to see while I was leading ABC. I got so hung up on the logistics, finding new ways to grow the club, and retaining membership over Zoom that I couldn't see the big picture. I couldn't see how this club stood legitimately at square 0 four years ago. However, there's still room to grow. And this idea of inclusivity and accessibility remains important, as I've told the next board. It's not just gender and racial diversity that matters, but ABC also must be socioeconomically inclusive. Making the club low barrier to entry, picking accessible topics, and reaching out to students is so critical. But I have tremendous faith in the new board. They've inherited many great tools, such as our instagram, blog, email list, and Abbot Grant and they've worked together for at least two years already.

I'm grateful for Andover Business Club. It's a place where students have been encouraged to forge their leadership, organization, and communication skills, but more importantly, for me personally, ABC was a place where I made the most friends in high school. And for this I'm forever grateful. 

When I started paying attention to the world

Advising this week was quiet. I love advising because I'm close with the students in the group and with our advisor, but we're usually a lot more talkative. This past week, it was clear that everyone was still reconciling with what happened at the US Capitol just over a week ago. It's something that we couldn't, as a group, just put behind us at our first advising meeting of the year; it was an elephant in the room, something that we all felt needed to be addressed. Obviously, this event should never just be tossed under the bridge but it's something that, at least for me personally, began to take even greater significance the more time passed. Truly, the afternoon the riots began to take place, I wasn't even thinking clearly. The weight and implications of the event didn't register to me until at least the next day after some thoughtful processing. 

In advising, we began our discussion by talking about how the riots have become normalized in a way. This precisely explains why the news keeps repeating the line "this riot was not surprising." Considering how the president has rallied his supporters in the past, I agree with this statement. In fact, I keep coming back to the feeling of how blank my mind felt the night of the riots.  

Yet there's one thing that our advisor said that really stuck with me after the meeting. That we've probably only been paying attention to the world for just the last four to five years. And that struck me. I'm 18. Before I was 13, I agree that I wasn't very aware of the world. It strikes me that I only started paying attention to the news in seventh or eighth grade, a time when I hadn't yet started developing critical thinking skills. It strikes me that when I was just beginning to pay attention to world news, several crises culminated simultaneously. It's weird to think that this is the only America that I've known, whereas older generations have had a point of reference to compare today to. That older generations have witnessed better, and through critical thinking, can realize more easily that this is not normal. I suppose this makes it even more important for our generation to study history, social studies, and philosophy so that even if we didn't experience better, we can at least also feel the implications of what's happened. 

It's been a draining couple of months. The movement for racial justice, the election, the global pandemic, applying to college, and now an insurrection that threatens the freedom and democracy of our country, all within a year. But I'm still listening, learning, and trying to formulate my own opinions. Today, I believe the ability to evaluate what we're seeing, hearing, and being told, rather than just accepting everything as truth, is more important than ever. 

What happened at the US Capitol

What happened this past week at the United States Capitol has shaken the world. In classes, I was grateful that teachers began by opening up the floor to a discussion about the riot. In Leadership Training, we spent the day talking about the importance of creating spaces to support each other and have discussions about what we felt. 

I sit here today, still processing what happened. A precedent. Chaos. An insurrection. Something our Founding Fathers would find unthinkable. Something that threatened democracy throughout the entire world. I echo what the news, my peers, and my teachers have all said. This was a failed attack on American democracy. In fact, in October, I wrote a post about how the heart of the 2020 election was really democracy, one that put this very founding principle of this country on the line. 

I suppose it was innocent of me to assume that the current president would back down after losing the election, that he would peacefully cede power. I suppose it was innocent of me to assume that there would be a peaceful transition of power, because the truth is that nothing that happened on Wednesday was surprising. And the possibility of having a "peaceful transition of power," as the president finally said later this week, is impossible. That possibility flew out the window as soon as the rioters broke into the US Capitol. Perhaps the scariest part of it all is that Donald Trump has set a precedent for future violent transitions of power, blackening the prospects for democracy. 

All I remember is receiving a notification on Wednesday afternoon, January 6th, at around 2:15 PM. My parents had left the house, so I was alone. I clicked onto the WSJ to find an all-caps a massive headline about the riots at the US Capitol. When I clicked into the article, I found a huge page of live updates and news. Then I checked the NYTimes, in disbelief, and found the same situation. Then I turned on the TV to find that the entire world was already watching what was happening at the US Capitol. I find myself repeatedly writing US Capitol, not just Capitol, because this is something unthinkable in the United States of America, the founder of democracy. In fact, one of my friends from Brazil said that seeing this riot in the US terrified her because it solidified the rule of authoritarian leadership in other countries. 

However, the aspect of this riot that stood out to me immediately was the conspicuous, irrefutable display of white privilege at the US Capitol. I think Dr. Ibram Kendi, a professor at Boston University, summed it up perfectly.

I'm currently reading "White Fragility" by Robin DiAngelo outside of school. So many aspects of racism that I hadn't observed before became clear after reading DiAngelo. But nothing compares to seeing white supremacy written about in a book versus manifest in real life. This riot was about protecting white solidarity and supremacy. House Speaker Nancy Pelosi said:

"It has been an epiphany for the world to see that there are people in our country led by this president – for the moment – who have chosen their whiteness over democracy…That's what this is about."

It's scary to think about how Donald Trump has normalized racism. His platform has reignited the roots of racism that generations have worked to dismantle. On the flip side, this also speaks to the fact that the United States was never as anti-racist and progressive as we thought it to be, and that we have so much more work to do. 

Many thoughts are running through my head right now. Should we move remove Donald Trump? Yes because we need to show the world that no one is above the law. But would it simultaneously divide the country even further? I'm unsure. I'm horrified by what's played out in our country this past week. I'm utterly disgusted. But I'm not surprised. This isn't "un-American" as many people have said because masked behind America's claims to democracy are strong roots in racism.   

The Kite Runner

My winter break is coming to a close. While "break" hasn't felt normal, I was fortunate to be able to squeeze in some time to read in between crunching out my final college apps. 

The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini was published in 2003 but I frankly had never heard of it until now. Hosseini crafts a haunting story, one about a friendship between a wealthy boy and the son of his father's servant. The plot kept twisting throughout this book and there were often scenes that took me completely by surprise. Others I will never forget. Hosseini's employment of symbolism is particularly potent, everything from the kites to lies to the slingshots. The Kite Runner read quickly and I highly recommend it.

Whether I read nonfiction or fiction, I like to underline lines that stick out to me. I think of these underlined sentences as key ideas that I associate with the book, important themes, or simply well-written sentences that harness the beauty of language. When I revisit books I read a while back, this is also how I remember some of the key scenes that rest at the heart of the story. 

I want to share my favorite section from The Kite Runner. I underlined it at the beginning of the book, but as I quickly discovered, its meaning and significance seep through the entirety of the story. 

"There is only one sin, only one. And that is theft. Every other sin is a variation of theft…When you kill a man, you steal a life…you steal his wife's right to a husband, rob his children of a father. When you tell a lie, you steal someone's right to the truth. When you cheat, you steal the right to fairness" (Hosseini, 17-18).

While I do agree with the narrator that perhaps this viewpoint of the world is a little bit black and white, this line nonetheless stuck with me. I've been thinking about it in a variety of contexts and depending on how I look at the situation, it could apply. This certainly does deviate from traditional examples of sin, like pride, greed, or envy but I think the narrator's father has quite an interesting way of looking at the world, shaped by his experiences and his sense of wrongdoings. 

The writing in The Kite Runner made me feel differently than other fictional books because it's based on historical events and because the emotions Hosseini describes are so human. Simultaneously, it's both a story and a novel that touches the roots of philosophy, begging questions like how to live or forgive. I loved this book so much and the story is definitely one I won't forget.