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.