Mizzou Protests

Members of the black student protest group, Concerned Student 1950, raise their arms while addressing a crowd following the announcement University of Missouri System President Tim Wolfe would resign Monday, Nov. 9, 2015, at the University of Missouri in Columbia, Mo. Wolfe resigned Monday with the football team and others on campus in open revolt over his handling of racial tensions at the school. (AP Photo/Jeff Roberson)
Members of the black student protest group, Concerned Student 1950, raise their arms while addressing a crowd following the announcement University of Missouri System President Tim Wolfe would resign Monday, Nov. 9, 2015, at the University of Missouri in Columbia, Mo. Wolfe resigned Monday with the football team and others on campus in open revolt over his handling of racial tensions at the school. (AP Photo/Jeff Roberson)

I graduated from OVS last year, and I am now a lowly freshman at the University of Missouri. I wrote for this blog frequently during my three years as a writer for On the Hill, and thought it would be a good outlet for me to share my firsthand experience of the recent protests at the University of Missouri. Alvarez — I better get a 10/10 on this!

Before I start, I should give you a little background about me. I’ve grown up in what I guess are fairly liberal communities mostly around California and Colorado, where racism was an idea and never something I actually witnessed. I think a part of me didn’t even believe it existed until I came to school here. I’m white, and have never had any personal experience as a target of racism, and it is unlikely that I ever will. And while I was not at the center of the recent protests here at Mizzou, I have witnessed some of the events leading up to and surrounding the protests. I recognize that there are countless opinions about everything that has transpired, and my opinion is just one of those.blackout_02_26732332_ver1.0_640_480

First, let me say that racism does exist at Mizzou. I have friends who have been called the N-word, and who track every pickup truck that drives by them at night. People have driven around campus with the confederate flag proudly displayed in the bed of their truck, and the N-word isn’t a rarity. I think racism is embedded here at the university, it has been since the very beginning – though that it just my personal opinion. Missouri was a slave state, and there are buildings on this campus that were built by slaves. The majority of the buildings are named after white males, with very few exceptions. And though our recently resigned Chancellor, R. Bowen Loftin, declared that racism has no place here, I agree with Payton Head that it does, and that it is quite comfortable.

The Mizzou Hunger Strike arose from years of experiencing the divide between students, and from the administration failing to address the issues. Personally, I think it culminated during the homecoming parade in October when the president of the UM System, Tim Wolfe, was in a car where his driver revved the engine and nudged some of the protestors that had blocked the road. Wolfe, rather than issuing an apology for the incident, chose to ignore it and didn’t apologize until earlier this month as the protests really began in earnest. But as they started, Concerned Student 1950 made it clear that the reasons they were going to these lengths and demanding change is because they love Mizzou and want it to be the best place it can be.

To accomplish that, Jonathan Butler, a graduate student here at Mizzou, went on a Hunger Strike about two weeks ago, declaring that he would not eat until Tim Wolfe resigned from his position. What shocked me was that this went on for EIGHT days, and that although Wolfe stated he was concerned for Butler’s health, he did absolutely nothing to ensure the health and safety of one of his students. In fact, it wasn’t until members of the football team declared they wouldn’t play until Wolfe stepped down, which resulted in the entire team following suit, that Wolfe resigned. That was almost a week after the Hunger Strike began. An article by the New York Times summed it up perfectly: “The Missouri athletes showed that the color that matters most is green.” But as an educator, I would have expected Wolfe to be more concerned about the wellbeing of one of his students than his position.Unknown

I went to Carnahan Quad a little after Tim Wolfe announced his resignation, and I was blown away by the movement. The emotions that were present that day were overwhelming, and everyone who cared even a little bit about equality on this campus was swept up in it. I was choked up, and I wasn’t even in the middle of it. It was truly a beautiful thing to witness, this first step on a long road to making Mizzou a racism-free campus. The fact that students were able to make such a huge impact and evoke so much change is incredible. And I got to witness that history being made.

That Tuesday night, death threats were made to blacks on campus, and someone posted on Yik Yak the same thing the Oregon shooter posted before the shooting. It was scary, especially as rumors began to take over social media about the KKK being on campus and bricks being thrown through dorm windows. I think a lot of those rumors were born out of a lack of information – for hours, the students got absolutely no information about what was going, whether the threats were being investigated and if they were real or not.The only statements we got from the university were that security had been increased and there were no credible threats. But then the next morning the man who posted the threats was arrested. Pretty much no one went to class on Wednesday – that is if their classes hadn’t been cancelled.

It’s been just over a week since then, and now we’re just about to leave for Thanksgiving break. But the movement hasn’t ended, and Tim Wolfe stepping down was just the first step. The protests have continued, and not just at Mizzou. Over 100 schools have shown their support for the movement, joining in on the chants, stating that “we have nothing to lose but our chains.” And other schools, including Yale, Ithaca, and Chapman University have begun demanding change at their own universities.

Mr. Alvarez asked me that if I had known this was going to happen, or if it had happened a year ago while I was still choosing where to go to school, if I still would have chosen to attend Mizzou. I honestly don’t know the answer to that question. I definitely didn’t realize when I chose this school how prevalent racism was. But in the end, I chose my school because of the journalism program, which is one of the best in the world. I’m glad I did choose to come here though, because I do love this school, and everything that has happened hasn’t taken away from that.

I’m proud to have been a part of something that I believe in and that has sparked a nationwide movement. I had the opportunity to witness something beautiful and empowering; to witness students fighting for what is right. Change needed to happen, and so students took the initiative to make sure that it did. I couldn’t be prouder of my school.

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Wanderlust

If I could live anywhere in the world, I wouldn’t limit myself to one location – I would backpack across the world and escape from society, exploring each corner of the earth. I would separate myself from civilization as I went from place to place, exploring my inner self and soothing my soul. Wherever I […]

That Joke Isn’t Funny Anymore

I’m not going to apologize for my humor anymore.

 My whole life I’ve had a very dry and edgy sense of humor, and with it I have attracted many close friends and also a couple enemies.  I was the most sarcastic kid on the playground, often getting in little fights with the kids around me because of this.

Back in my salad days, as Shakespeare would call them, I didn’t understand why people would get so worked up about my jokes.  As I got older, I realized my sense of humor was more mature than the people around me. 

When they were still on bathroom jokes, I had moved on to bigger things.  I would impersonate celebrities and my teachers, I would make jokes about current events, it was smart humor but my classmates never got it. 

I was no class clown though.  I was fairly quiet in class, always paying attention and raising my hand.  At lunch though, I was on fire.  I would come up with little sketches that I would then act out to my unwilling group of friends.  I remember I had one about Panda Express that was a big hit.  I don’t remember what is was about at all but it was quoted for weeks.

When I got to middle school, things changed.  Maybe it was my sudden realization that I could be judged for being “out there.”  My proudest moment in middle school was in the 7th grade.  The 7th grade was a god awful year for me and honestly drowning is probably better than 7th grade but it did have one shining moment.

 For the first year in my middle school’s history they would be having a play. Not a musical, but a play. 

I was so pumped it was unbelievable.  When I would talk about the play people probably wondered who the hell gave this 13 year old girl so much sugar, but it wasn’t sugar I was high off of, it was the theatre. Cheesy as that sounds, it rang very true for 13 year old, slightly chubby me. 

When I first auditioned I was scared out of my mind.  I found out there was only 10 parts in the show we were doing and only 3 of those parts were for girls.  I did my best in the audition, which wasn’t surprising because I always do my best in the things I really care about.

A week later, when the cast list came out, I screamed.  I screamed out of joy because I got in.  I Lily, the awkward, sometimes accidentally insulting, braces wearing girl got into a real play.  Of course the play was awful, as you would expect it to be since the cast was completely made out of middle school outsiders, but I thought it was amazing.  I thought I was amazing. 

Every single show, when I heard laughs from the audience because of something I said, it filled me with so much joy.   At the cast party, the director gave out little speeches to all of the young actors.  When it came to my turn to be praised, the director simply told me how funny I could be.  It made a huge impact on me.

Never had I actually been told I was funny. I just told jokes and would occasionally get laughs. 

In high school I was on the improv team and would get up on stage every week.  I began to write little comedy scenes for myself and keep them in a file on my computer.  

Comedy is something really important to me, and I’ve started using it as a cover for the real things I’m feeling.  I am not defined as a person by the jokes I tell so stop judging me for my humor. 

Credit to NBC

Dreams Fulfilled

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The OVS Cross Country Team (left to right): Coach Apple Alvarez, Tracy Zeng, Ally Feiss, Gilim Bae, Sunny Chang, Winnie Chang and coach Fred Alvarez — Photo by Momoe Takamatsu

When I was in high school, a time so long ago my students will assure you dinosaurs roamed the earth, I was a pretty fast runner.

I ran cross country and track all four years, and eventually got IMG_2656fast enough that I was able to run Division I cross country in college. But for as fast as I was in my high school years, I was never the fastest on my team, not to mention my league.

I was a middle-of-the-pack runner, good enough to earn a varsity letter three out of my four years, but not good enough on my own to earn a post-season CIF berth, the holy grail of high school sports in California. And my high school team, filled with runners faster than me, was never fast enough either to qualify collectively for CIF.

That was the dream for every member of my cross country team, and one that for me had obviously gone unfulfilled for decades.12208743_747617005343947_8825205504728621762_n

Until this past weekend.

On Saturday, for the first time in Ojai Valley School history, our girls’ cross country team competed in the CIF Southern Section preliminaries, a race that drew more than 3,000 high school runners from across Southern California.

Decked out in their new OVS jerseys (thanks Mr. Floyd!), my five girls toed the line against 148 other runners from 22 schools, nearly every one with a larger student population than ours. My runners were nervous. I told them there was no need to be.

IMG_4572 (1)Because as far as I was concerned, we had already won. Our victory was just getting to CIF, for being a team that sweated and bled and cried together to accomplish a goal that at the start of the season seemed unattainable.

I told them not to worry about how they placed, or how the team finished. I told them before they started to have fun, and to remember to look up at some point during the race and remind themselves where they were, and what they had accomplished together.

And I told them this: I have never been prouder of any team I have coached, and no team I have coached has ever displayed more heart.

These girls this season gave me a great gift. Yes, I finally got to go to CIF, only three decades later than planned. But there was more to it than that. I got to see these athletes develop a power they never knew they had, the power to come face-to-face with adversity and keep moving forward.

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Junior Gilim Bae was the top runner for OVS, running a personal best at the Riverside course — Photo by Momoe Takamatsu

I got to see a group of girls – three from China, one from Korea and one from Ojai – make the always mysterious transformation of going from strangers to friends to sisters. They will have this bond the rest of their lives.

Through a flurry of fortunate circumstances, I got to coach the team this year alongside my eldest daughter, a talented young woman as smart as she is dedicated to the teaching profession. Her star is rising, and I beam with pride. My heart nearly bursts when I think of the role model she provided these high school runners this season.

And I got to forge deep friendships, the kind that will last forever. In a world where so much goes wrong on a daily basis, a world where the spotlight shines too often on misery and the prospects of doom, what these girls achieved this season was commendable, and should be celebrated.

What greater gift could there be? Thank you girls for a phenomenal season. Go Spuds!

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Freshman Tracy Zeng (left) and junior Winnie Chang gut it out on the Riverside Cross Country course — Photo by Momoe Takamatsu

 

 

 

A Different Type of Family

CIF.

Ever since I became involved in sports I had always thought of CIF as the place where the best of the best go to compete. I never thought in a million years I would make it there, especially for cross country.

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Photo Credit: MomoeTakamatsu

This past weekend, my high school girls’ cross country team (only consisting of five members), our two coaches and a few key members of our support group, made the long haul to Riverside, California. It was an all day event, starting from the early hours of the morning and not returning until well after the sun had gone down. The traffic was horrendous, the dust was suffocating (leaving us with the worst “runner’s cough,”) and the pain felt never ending.

I would do it all over again.

This is a memory I will cherish and I will always be grateful for being given this opportunity. The traffic, coughing and eternal pain, pale in comparison to the memories we made that day. The girls, some I knew from years before and some I just met this year, are now like sisters to me. All the long practices, blisters, sweat, tears and countless times of feeling like our chests were going to explode or we were going to lose our lunches, brought us together in an unexplainable bond.

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Photo Credit: Momoe Takamatsu

Running has changed me and made me into the person I am. It has taught me so much more than just how to breathe or use my arms to make it up a hill. It has done more than just help me get into shape. It has been tough and very painful but it has taught me a sense of commitment, strength, and family.

I would have never experianced any of this if it wasn’t for my coach.

Our coach shared with us after the race that we were the first team he’s ever taken to CIF. When he told us how proud he was and how much growth he’s seen in us, it brought tears to my eyes. I have been running for him since my freshman year. I am now a senior and this past race was my final one. This man that I call a coach, teacher, advisor, and friend is the most generous and inspiring man I know. He has been there cheering me on and encouraging me more times than I can count. He is like a second father to me, pushing me to the point that I want to yell back, but always knowing what’s best for me, supporting me to no end. Turning my jersey in means so much more than just an end to a sports season. It is an end to that chapter in my life, but not an end to the friendship that was made. I know that will always be there and he will always be there, cheering me on at the finish line.

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Photo Credit: MomoeTakamatsu

 

She Said No

She said no.

He wasn’t deaf.

He didn’t have headphones in.

His ears weren’t turned off.

He could hear,

But he wasn’t listening.

She said no.

He isn’t three.

He has a brain.

He understands when something has gone too far.

He has compassion,

But he doesn’t have guilt.

She said no.

He doesn’t speak alien.

He comes from the Earth.

He had feelings for her,

But he didn’t love her.

She said no.

She said it quietly.

She struggled and pushed.

She shook her head.

She pushed him away.

She said no.

She wanted to break free from his grasp.

She wanted to terminate the unwanted kisses.

She wanted to stop his reign of terror,

Credit to: favim.com

She wanted to have her right to walk away.

She said no.

She yelled and cried.

She kicked and screamed.

He saw this,

But decided to say yes for the both of them.

She said no.

No means no.

He knew that,

But he didn’t know that

He had left a girl.

A poor girl with a life-long nightmare.

All because he didn’t let her go,

He didn’t let her say no.

My Favorite Street Style Stars

On Instagram there is a flurry of planned, blurry outfit photos with #ootd or pictures of one’s 15 bazillion Cartier Love Bracelets. But, my favorite fashion photos are the ones captured on the move, encompassing one’s street style (hence the title). So, let’s jump in.

Miroslava Duma

Photo Credit: Pop Sugar

This woman has some of the best street style looks I have ever seen. She maintains a formal look while still able to pull it off in the most casual of circumstances.

Olivia Palermo

Photo Credit: Daily Mail

10/10, Palermo consistently hits it out of the ball park with her looks, without even trying. Her style is a modernized classic, and is able to integrate trends into her look while still staying true to her personal style.

Emmanuelle Alt

Photo Credit: vanessataaffe.wordpress.com

Editor-in- Chief of Vogue Paris, Emmanuelle Alt has the classic, killer french style I love. Classic and simplistic, but never boring, Emmanuelle Alt always has awe-worthy looks.

Amal Clooney (né Alamuddin)

Photo Credit: demureonline.com

Amal Clooney, British lawyer and, yes, you guessed it,George Clooney’s Wife, has a complex, yet not too trendy style. She maintains a perfect balance, and always looks professional.

Miranda Kerr

Photo Credit: http://www.fashionmg-style.com

Miranda Kerr’s style has been on my fashion radar since I was 11 years old. Thats a pretty long time to love a person’s style, considering it is ever-changing. Miranda is able to maintain a classic look (see a pattern in these celeb’s style?) while still having fun with her outfits.

Writers

See here’s the thing, there are people everywhere in the world fighting for a change, for a difference, fighting to save humanity. And that’s all well and good, but then there are writers.

A specialized breed of ruin, a deadly addictive drug.

Sure one could ask what the cuss they do for the world. I can tell you this, they kill trees. They bury students in dry immobile states of constant stress and depression.

But know what else they can do? They can keep me up all night. Make it so my mind never stops whispering to me. Make it so it feels like I’m drowning in ink and can never shut out that click click clicking of the keyboard.

Writers. Arguably the most talented, frustrating, simultaneously strangle-worthy yet kiss-worthy people on the planet.

Every time I finish a book good or bad I wonder how?

How on earth does anyone figure this out? How does anyone think of this? How does this happen? How are they real? How do they do this? How? How? How?

Then I think why.

Why can’t I do this? Why am I not doing this? Why am I not good enough? Why isn’t this happening? Why? Why? Why?

It’s a constant cycle: how, why, how, why, how, why? Like a broken record playing over and over and over.

I’ve read most of my life away and yet I still can’t see those plot holes coming, I can’t predict it, yes that’s a good thing. But then I can’t even seem to think of ones coming at me on my own how am I supposed to write anything that even measures up in the slightest.

Sure good artists steal but that only gets you so far. So what if some people tell you you’re good, their obligated to tell you that, cause the worlds about making people feel good about themselves, especially when you’re a young volatile developing teen yeah?

But then I see other people’s writing, it doesn’t even need to be published or personal-universe shattering. And it starts it all over again.

Photo Credit: http://www.darkgovernment.com/

How? Why? How? Why? How? Why? Until it feels like I’m going to go mad.

I’m thinking yeah I’m good enough but then I read a bone shaking book. And the little disembodied voice whispers, are you good enough? Am I good enough? It echoes, like a museum display no one came to see.

Then I’ll read something written by someone like me unofficial, young, and just writing for the sake of writing. And that disembodied voice gets louder, No you’re not good enough are you? Just one lousy kid playing pretend.

I recently finished a book that for some reason shook me to my foundation. I hate analyzing literature but this one hit points that are incredible and leave me knee deep in cement thinking, this proves it, it officially proves it, writers are amazing and will probably be the fryers of my emotions. Yes the book had some stand out flaws but still. How?

I’m one sad little mind grasping at something I’m not even sure is mine to grab. One out of hundreds thousands millions. Every time I’m done with a book or story I’m left raw and wrathful and insecure yet I continue to do it to myself because I don’t think I could bare to be without it.

Happy

What I fail to do in my day-to-day life is take things less seriously.

I always think about the future and whether the guy I have a crush on will ever reciprocate my feelings or whether I’ll ever amount to anything.

These things—these vague dreams and thoughts of mine cause my stomach to churn and my eyes to fill with tears.

I want to live life for now, not waste my thoughts on the future. For who knows whether I’ll even be alive for the moments I dream about.

When I was younger I would see people in commercials, with their perfect BMI and perfectly white teeth, and I couldn’t help but think, why not me?

Why am I not happy or perfect everyday of the year? Why am I not constantly dressed in designer knock offs from Macy’s?

The truth is, these people are just actors who are paid to be happy, and they’re probably not paid too much either. I mean it’s a JC Penney commercial. 

If you were happy everyday of your life you wouldn’t be a person, you’d be a game show host. 

I try to live my life with as much hope as possible.

While on the outside I seem like this moody teenager who thrives off sarcasm and the misfortune of others, I really do care.

 I love to laugh and I love to make people laugh.  I love sunshine and 80’s power ballads. I love animals and strong coffee. I love my family and friends. 

I want to live my life happy.   I don’t care if I’m never rich or famous or the star of a TJ Maxx commercial, I just want to be the happiest person I can be. 

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credit to tumblr

A Pleasant Surprise

Friendships are a funny thing. They are something that needs work and energy spent on them but can also be something that just spring up and develop all on their own.

I am a senior in high school, getting ready to leave my hometown and small high school to venture out into the world and find my path.

At my school it is rare to not really know every person in your grade, considering the small size. However, there was one person that I for some reason, until this year didn’t really ever speak to.

The funny thing is, is that I’d known this person for the past 3 years of my life. But it wasn’t until this very last year we have together that we finally became close.

Photo Credit: http://cdn.teenink.com

I had an unexpected friendship spring up all on its own. A friendship that I never expected. A friendship that will last me a life time.