Category: emotions

September 11th

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September 11th, a grave day in history that will never be forgotten, forever looming over our history like the dust and debris that was left after the world trade center was hit. To some this day is almost insignificant, and to some this day means more than anything else.

Most people remember it as the day that the United States was attacked. Before the attack, September eleventh was simply just another day of the year. But after that attack, just mentioning the day “September 11th” brought a hush to a crowd, or caused someone to look down in sorrowful remembrance. For some people it made them feel uncomfortable, for some people sad, and some people resentful. I’ve seen all of these reactions. But what I saw the most was acceptance, not because people didn’t care, but because to a certain extent nothing could be done; the plane crash couldn’t be taken back, the lives lost couldn’t be brought back and the birthdays, as insignificant as it might seem, would never be the same.

My older sister had her 7th birthday on September 11th. Now, being that I was three years old when the attack took place, I don’t remember what I was doing, or what we were doing that day for my sister’s birthday, but I can almost promise you that with a catastrophe like that, her birthday was altered in some way.

I remember that I didn’t really understand what was happening when my parents tried to explain to me that the plane had crashed into the world trade center. For a three-year-old, death is an unfathomable idea, let alone combined with the catastrophe of 9/11 accompanying it.

As the years have rolled by, September 11th has become less of a painful reminder of what was lost that day. However, the pain that was caused will never fully disappear. The disheartened look that people get in their eyes when my sister says that her birthday is on September 11th will never go away, the damage that was done to hundreds of other families, to the world trade center and to our nation will never go away. But like human nature, we learn how to deal with it and accept it. 

Photo Credit: http://www.911memorial.org

It’s Almost Over

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I can almost see the finish line

We are so close to summer, the only thing in the way is…finals. *hiss*

Now I am sure that you are sick and tired of hearing high schoolers complain about how long the year is and how we are so excited for summer, but this year has felt like torture

As I approach finals my stress levels, which have been at a pretty steady 8/10 throughout the year, have escalated to 11/10 the past week and I don’t see this changing in the near future.On Friday, we have math

Math, I hate you.

That’s all I have to say about this satanic subject

On Saturday is history

I already took this final ahead of time, thank goodness

On Sunday, I get a break

In reality, I don’t count it as a break because I will probably have my head buried in books trying to not fail my next final

On Monday, its English

Oh English

I actually really enjoy English but not today…not today

On Tuesday, its Spanish

No me gusta…at all

The final exam…Wednesday, Science

I’ve basically given up on this one

With a full week ahead of me I ask for your prayers.

This is the end

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Today is Thursday, May 26th, 2016. Today is the last academic day of school. Today is the last day of my junior year.

Tomorrow is the first final. One week later is graduation.

Three months later, the next school year will begin. I’ll be a senior. Time is ticking, and we are nearing the end. Everything is coming to a close.

Photo Credit: az616578.vo.msecnd.net

It’s surreal. All the seniors will be gone, replaced by my class. We’ll be the oldest. The top of the top.

I’m aware of all that is happening, but it hasn’t really hit me yet. I’m waiting for that day.

Technically, this is the last blog I ever need to write. Next year will be so different.

I’m only a junior now – the middle child – neither the oldest nor the youngest. But this is the end, and soon I will be the older child.

It’s so close, I can almost touch it.

Last. Blog. Ever.

mushuooLeave a comment

Tonight, I am writing my last blog for the Ojai Valley School Journalism class.

I have has such an incredible experience here at OVS, and a part of that was being involved in this class.

Being given the opportunity to express my opinion on whatever I feel like has been amazing. Blogging has been an amazing outlet for me and writing articles has allowed me to strengthen my writing skills in a fun manner.

I would like to thank Mr. Alvarez for his incredible support for the past two years, academically and personally. He is truly one of my favorite humans in the entire world, and he is someone I would do nearly anything for.

This time is bittersweet. Leaving high school, and the journalism program, will be upsetting; but I am growing up and moving on, and that is a beautiful thing in itself.

I cannot wait to share my experiences in college with my family, friends, and former teachers. I wish everyone at OVS the best, even Harley.

I will be forever thankful for my time here at OVS.

*@KENNYROO NO PICTURE

We need nap time!

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When I was in kindergarten, we had nap time every day. We would come back inside after recess each day, and without fail there would be mats laid out all over the classroom floor. We would each have to pick a mat, and once we laid down, that was where we had to stay for an hour without getting up.

I hated nap time. All the kids did. But now, I would give anything for it.

During that hour, we had to lay on our mats quietly – we could read if we didn’t want to sleep, but we couldn’t visit with friends. We were always so restless, watching the clock and counting down the minutes until the hour was over.

Now in high school, having an hour of nap time during the school day would be luxurious. I am constantly sleep deprived after staying up into the small hours of the morning working on homework, and I can say definitively that I would take FULL advantage of an allotted nap time.

All I can say is that as high schoolers, I think we deserve nap time.

Photo Credit: s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com

Awkward. Physical. Contact.

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Otherwise known as hugs. Or even worse prolonged hugs.

Almost everyone I know is in love with this activity. They say to me:

“It’s a great way to display love.”

“It’s a way of showing you care.”

“It’s a way of connecting with a person.”

“It is a way of comforting people.”

Hugs just make me uncomfortable. I find issue with being in that much contact with a person.

This is a particular issue when in a situation that includes re-meeting people, saying goodbye to people, and expressing excess emotion.

I do kind of wish I was better with the whole “come here and give me a nice big hug” thing, but then again it’s just not who I am.

Many a time I have been asked why I don’t like hugs or in fact most prolonged physical contact.

I have set out to answer this (and maybe this is true for more people than just me).

 

Recognition: Happy Mother’s Day

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In the United States, we have so many holidays honoring certain people and certain things. But we often fail to recognize those who aren’t in the picture, or who fall outside of conventional situations.

Happy Mother’s Day to those who lost their mothers, or never even knew them. Or maybe it’s not a happy Mother’s Day. We fail to acknowledge the people for whom Mother’s Day is a hard day – the people who never got to know their mother, or who had abusive mothers and don’t want to celebrate.

Happy Mother’s Day to the moms who aren’t alive for this year’s celebration, and to the mothers whose children died before their time. Let’s celebrate the women who tried and tried and couldn’t have children, and guardians who may not have kids of their own but fill the role of mothers, taking care of kids as if they were theirs.

Happy Mother’s Day to those without mothers or kids, and to those who have a hard time on this holiday. Happy Mother’s Day to the people who have no one to celebrate, or no one to celebrate with.

Photo Credit: visitquadcities.com

The Dinner Guest Bears Revelation

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Recently an old friend came to dinner. As she talked about her life I came to this realization: life, no matter where you are in it, is hard.

Whether you are older and wiser or young and reckless, people are hard to love, friends are hard to keep, biting back retorts a challenge.

There’s always a road block, always a speed bump. Money, love, distance, self esteem, everything is a crossroad.

I’ve also realized that there will always be people telling me, “Yeah well think about all those other people suffering, by comparison you’re living easy.” I am one of those people telling others this. I am a person telling myself this. Yet that doesn’t take the sting off of living.

People telling you to stop complaining is much like rubbing salt in a wound, but then again this world complains so incredibly much. I have a family of wasps living in my head constantly reminding me of my complaints, all the negatives I see in the world and others.

Admittedly I am probably more judgmental than I ought to be, maybe a little too cynical, a little too sarcastic, a little too snarky, a little too mocking. Still it’s hard, to be around people who constantly complain, only see issue and always seem to have an issue, or relate everything back to them.

And the worst part is that person is me. Or am I brave enough to step out into the world and proclaim that I am any different than the person standing next to me? That somehow I have defied human nature while they haven’t?

No I am not, because I am not different. The person next to me is having the exact same thoughts, “I am different aren’t I, I can do what I want, because something I can’t quite put my finger on makes me better than the person standing next to me.”

It’s the human survival drive and by extension competitiveness.  It’s the need to outlast everyone else, it’s the dopamine release you get when you’re right.

I am no different, life is a crossroad.

I am constantly at a roadblock, a crossroads and I for the life of me can’t figure out how to handle it with grace.

Photo Credit: www.paul-altobelli.com

Strength

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She was young and he was old.

She said stop and he said go.

But she wouldn’t say no.

And this was her flaw.

She put up walls,

but they were made of straw, not brick.

And he could knock them down with one breath.

She tried to fight,

but her specialty was ballet, not Taekwondo.

She wasn’t strong enough

to say no.

She tried to kick and tried to fight

She tried to scream but found no air.

She was suffocating,

enveloped in a sheet from which there was no escape.

She was tied down,

unable to break free,

struggling against the ropes that bound her.

She thought she was strong,

that she had her own voice and could fend for herself.

She thought she was powerful and in control.

But she wasn’t strong enough to say no.

But from her bindings

she kicked and flailed and struggled

and broke free.

She took a breath,

free at last

and finally

she could say no.

Photo Credit: http://www.earthtimes.org

Graduation

mushuooLeave a comment

It’s here in five weeks, the day we have all been waiting for; graduation.

June third is the end of a beautiful chapter in our lives. I have grown so much in these past four years that I would say I am now, at 18, a completely different person than I was at 14 when I was a freshman.

I was so sure at 14 that I wanted to go to Stanford University and become a lawyer, and nobody could convince me otherwise.

Now at 18, I am going to Chapman University and majoring in either political science or business (still not sure), which I cannot believe because four years ago if you were to ask me to live in Los Angeles I would say absolutely not.

This year, I only wanted to go to schools in LA and did not even consider Stanford.

Regardless, I am beyond excited to be going off to study at Chapman in five months. I cannot explain my gratitude for everyone who has helped me throughout the past four years.

I am ecstatic.