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Tuesday, February 1, 2022

5. Tyler B. Coming Out

 

Me from Jan. Last year


For those who don’t know, I am a trans women, and yesterday (I meant to write this yesterday) marks my one year anniversary of coming out to my parents. Though it isn’t exactly a happy anniversary worth celebrating, more so a lesson in not expecting good to come out of everything especially with family. Allow me to walk you through my thought process of what I thought would happen, I know my parents are mostly accepting of all kinds of people, so I figured they would be happy for me finally figuring myself out. I thought they’d hug me and tell me that they would accept me no matter what, and that we’d figure out what to do next together, which is quite far from what I got. Instead I was attecked with question after question, speculation and doubt, and the worst of it all, a crack that distanced me from my parents immensely. I still think about the things they said to me to this day, a year after, “I’ve met trans kids before, and your story isn’t the same as theirs”, “Why do you think this now?”, and “To be honest, we think you’re confused”. I think about those words everytime I walked into my home now, though it doesn’t feel much like home anymore, more of a place I have to go to at the end of the day, my own room now feeling like the safest place in that house, away from everyone else and their thoughts of me.


While that night left me with more bad than good, it taught me one very important lesson, I spent my life up to that point thinking my parents were great and the best parents out there. That night shattered my opinion of them and taught me that not everyone will accept me the way I am, and not to always expect good out of even the closest people in my family. Which has led to a canyon wide gap between me and the rest of my family. But since then I have learned to expect less from them, how to avoid conflict that won’t lead anywhere with them, and how to pretend like everything is fine with them. It has made me think about how good my family actually is, and it doesn’t look very good for them, but I refuse to be brought down by them and they won’t stop me and my plans for the future. I want to learn from them for when the time comes that I have kids of my own, what they did and how to avoid repeating the same mistakes they made. I don’t want to be the same.

Word Count: 449

5- Grace. B My Little Oreo

 



My dog. The most important thing currently in my life. 


Demi. Weird name, for a weird dog. When I first got her, she was the skinniest little puppy you’d ever seen. She was so abused and hurt. She wouldn’t let anyone get near her or touch her, but me. And that created the bond of a lifetime.


It was funny, because my parents told my siblings and I that she was just here temporarily. Pushing at the fact that we shouldn’t name her or care too much about her. Demi, when I first got her, had these huge black spots all around her body. To my 10 year old self, she resembled an oreo, so in secret that's what I named her. My little Oreo. Eventually it changed, because what an awful name for a dog, but my black spotted, floppy eared oreo became my world.


I still remember the day we were going to send her away. My nameless, helpless dog. I cried. And my little oreo came and sat on my lap and comforted me. I held her so tight feeling her warmth, and tears just streamed down my eyes. She knew I was sad so her little pink tongue just started licking away my tears. Looking back, she probably didn’t care that I was crying and just liked the taste of my salty tears, but I like to think that she sensed my sadness. My mom saw my connection with her, so she stayed. Renamed as Demi, ears grew out of its floppy stage, the big black spots turning brown, and the most energetic puppy you’d ever seen was mine.


One day, during the Christmas season, my grandma was in the process of making tamales. She had decided to take a small break and asked me to watch over the food so the dogs don’t get into it. I did a horrible job. A few minutes later, I hear rustling in the kitchen and I see my dog just eating like she’s never had a meal in her life. I pulled her away and cleaned up the mess, so it seemed like nothing had ever happened. The evidence wasn’t so easily covered because my dog had the smell of corn chips. And that smell still lingers on her, six years later.


My dog. My little energetic, brown and black spotted, pink tongued, corn chipped smelling dog. 


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5 - Lilly T: Peeling Away at Mental Health

 


Among the many themes explored in the movie A Silent Voice, mental health awareness was something that stood out the most. It’s such an important theme because the movie opens and closes with scenes that convey an issue with mental health and how it was resolved.


Depression was something that started at an early age for our main character, Shouya Ishida, who bullied Shouko Nishimiya in elementary school. Though there were others who were involved, Shouya was solely blamed for the bullying. He was continuously avoided throughout his elementary, middle, and part of his high school years. Shouya gained a sense of loneliness, which soon turned into depression because no one was there to help him. The result of this? A failed attempt at suicide.


Shouya also developed a serious case of anxiety, as he was too ashamed of his actions to hear or look other people in the face. He was afraid of other people’s voices, so he placed an ‘X’ on their faces in order to give himself a sense of safety. Not wanting to hear the whispers behind his back, Shouya shuts everyone out of his life up until his highschool years. After a series of heartbreaking events, Shouya finally confronts his fears and listens to them, ending the movie with the ‘X’’s slowly peeling themselves off of people’s faces.


Mental health takes time to heal and treat, and A Silent Voice portrays this very well. There is always someone out there who is having a hard time, so make an attempt to help them before it is too late.


Word Count: 263


5. Kaiyue L. Coping With Grief

 Okay this one is about to hit hard.

My grandpa died when I was in seventh grade, being the only caregiver I had until I was four years old, I was pretty devastated. At the time I had just learned the Five Stages of Grief at school, and as I was anticipating them, it didn't happen the way I thought they would. Don’t get me wrong, I felt all the stages, but they just came in a very non-linear process.

 

Denial wasn't so much of a "He’s not dead!" kind of thing, but more of a "Well his corpse really didn't look like him, so maybe it's a mix up and he’s actually alive somewhere".

 

I didn't really feel any anger at the time, at least not at the situation itself. I was angry about a lot of things, but it was mostly because I was 12. Since I already have a pretty aggressive personality, being a teenager made it worse. But I didn't find myself any more angry than usual.

 

Depression happened but again, it wasn't in the typical stage. I wasn't crying or anything. I just remember being really upset and almost frustrated at first, then these feelings immediately went away as I became numb. I have always avoided thinking about it, because the memory just prompts this painful, sick sort of feeling inside me. It feels almost like shame, or dread, or a mix of the two. 

 

It took me several years or so to really come to terms with the death of my grandpa. However, every so often I'll get a bit of denial when I see someone who looks exactly like him walking around, or a bit of depression when I catch myself thinking "I should tell him that I made it into pit orchestra today", even though he’s been dead for four years.

 

The death of my grandpa will always be a part of me. I'll never forget the way my mother cried at the funeral. And although it's a painful memory to recall when I think of it, I would never have been able to move on if I hadn't taken the time to grieve it, process it, and let go, to make it a smaller part of myself as I moved on to become a bigger person. Change and impermanence is a part of life we all have to accept.


Monday, January 31, 2022

5-Krishna C: Musical Story


Music, my story with music has been one of new connections, new beginnings, happiness, and endings.

 My story starts when I was 4 and new to Guam. I had just moved there from the east coast. I had no friends my age, and had trouble making them because I was different from the locals. I had wanted to play the drums so badly that I had irritated my mom because I would always be hitting things around the house.

 She eventually asked a local drum teacher in the area if he was willing to teach me, he had turned her down because he said I was “too young” to teach. She begged him for a chance because she wanted me out of the house, and he eventually gave in.

I quickly picked up the basics of the drums and started playing songs like “Rolling in the deep” by Adele. I remember performing for parents during concerts and even though I was only around 5 at the time.

Mr. Chan, my drum teacher, was more than just a teacher, he became another parent for me, teaching me how to be kind to anyone and always give people chances. The same way he did for me. My mom was going to school at the time and one day couldn’t pick me up after my lesson. So I stayed with Mr. Chan and he took me to McDonalds and then dropped me off at my moms college. That was when I knew that he was a special person. 

I was the first younger kid Mr. Chan had taught which is why he was unsure about me, but he now accepts them because he realized that he has the ability to teach them. 

I moved to California when I was 8 and had still played the drums, although not as much because I didn't have a teacher. I just had my own little set. Once school started I didn't touch instruments until the 5th grade when the middle school teachers came out to the elementary schools and introduced new instruments to us.

I had chosen to play the trumpet and excelled at it. Once I got to middle school I decided to switch instruments, and started to play the french horn because we  didn’t have one in the band. I fell in love with the sound. It wasn't in your face like a trumpet, it wasn’t low and deep like a trombone, but it was a smooth sound that loomed over and above all the others, not in your face but if you knew what to listen for you would hear it. I loved it.

 Once 8th grade hit, the drummer in the jazz band went on to high school, so I decided to step in, and it felt like I was a little kid again just banging on things around the house. Even though it wasn’t anything new to me, being the only person and having everyone looking at me made me really uncomfortable and nervous, so after 8th grade I didn't really touch the drums.

 During middle school though I would often learn new instruments to fill in where we were lacking a little. So I learned how to play the trombone and tuba too. Now knowing 4 instruments I had a pretty good idea of what I wanted to play once I got into high school. 

I chose the french horn. It was always the instrument that spoke to me the most and it felt like I could relate to it. Like my personality lined up with the instrument. My freshman year I ended up winning the MVP of the band that year and the teacher wanted me to try out for the upper class band.

Although, with sports becoming more prominent in my life I need to make a decision on what I was going to do. I wouldn't be able to do both band and sports, and give them both my all. I ended up choosing sports.

I don't regret my decision because of how far sports has taken me and will take me, but some days I'll remember songs I used to play and I'd close my eyes and be in the moment. Just to feel in the moment again.


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5 - Lucas V: A Concert of a Lifetime

 


     One of the concerts that I would like to see is a Michael Jackson one. It was sad that he had died before I was old enough to go to a concert. I would like to see his concert because of the way he sings and also the dance moves he has. The way he moves smoothly along the stage is pretty cool. The MoonWalk dance move that he invented is cool and I would like to see the creator actually do it. I could actually bet that many people would actually go to his concert if he was still alive.


There are booths where people can take pictures in. It is included with the ticket depending on which one you would get. I would have gotten the VIP tickets that would include a meet and greet and seats that were right in front of the whole show. With that meet and greet I would ask Michael Jackson for a picture and also an autograph. My family will be going as this concert happens once in a while that is close to our home so that we wouldn’t have to drive so far. People going to the concert would be people that listen to Michael Jackson or just people who really want to see him perform somewhere nearby.


As of right now, there are only impersonators of Michael Jackson that dance like him. I’ve seen lots of people do them around on YouTube and it’s actually pretty cool. This is the closest to going to a Michael Jackson concert. 


Word count: 259


Sunday, January 30, 2022

5 - Alejandro M: The Dark Secrets of the Shoe-Making Process

 


Most people use these. When we go outside, what do most people put on? Shoes. Shoes are everywhere, and especially in the US. An average American purchases 3 pairs a year. The rest of the world also purchases a high number of sneakers. To meet the demand of the entire world, 23 billion shoes are produced each year. But how exactly are these useful things on our feet produced?


China and Southeast Asia are where most of our shoes are produced. But why there? Factories are usually never owned or operated by the brands themselves. The plants brands work with are in countries with little to no worker protection laws, which in effect would allow shoes to be produced quicker. This labor abuse becomes even harsher as shoes have now become more complicated, labor-intensive, and more dangerous to produce.


This is not all to the dark secrets of the shoe-making process. Shoe manufacturing is a major producer of carbon emissions. Sneakers alone generate the equivalent amount of the annual emissions of 66 million cars. Mining the fossil fuels that make up the materials of these shoes emits tons of greenhouse gases. And processing these materials into synthetic textiles further contributes to the pollution from these shoes. The material side of the shoe-making process ONLY contributes for 20% of a sneaker’s carbon footprint. 


So, what accounts to the other significant percentage of a shoe's carbon footprint? That would be the manufacturing portion of the process. Since a sneaker comprises 65 discrete parts, each of which is produced by specialized machinery, it is cheaper for factories to mass-produce each piece separately and under several roofs. 

    

    Now, the transportation required to ship these pieces to where they are assembled emits even more CO2. The assembly of a shoe accounts for the remaining portion of the shoe’s carbon footprint. 


    This is not to discourage you from ever buying shoes again. That would be dumb. But knowing the truths about something you use so frequently, like shoes, is always helpful. The most you can do is to support better labor working conditions and for an eco-friendlier shoe-making process.


Word Count: 354


5 - Charlene H: Music, Like a Best Friend

 


Word of the Week: Music


Music. The universal form of expression that brings people together. Connecting people of different languages, cultures, religions. Filled with a variety of styles, genres, interpretations. Anyone can listen to music; there is always a tune that matches our personal feelings and experiences. Music has something in it for everyone to listen to in their day-to-day lives, no matter who they are.


I typically use music as background entertainment, but it is more than just that for me. Music is a huge part of my life. There for me in every moment. There for me through the good, the bad, and the neutral. There are countless examples I can think of, but I’ll use a situation that every person is familiar with: the COVID-19 pandemic.


Because of this pandemic, I was in social isolation for 17 months (from March of my sophomore year to the start of my senior year). Even as a socially awkward introvert, I felt painfully lonely. It hurt even more when I scrolled through social media, seeing people hang out with their friends. I liked my junior year for its online learning aspect, but social connection with friends was all I ever craved.


Music, however, came to my rescue during this pandemic, embracing me in nearly every moment of it. Although I still feel lonely, I see music as a valued companion. The friend that everyone needs. The friend that never leaves. Music understands my emotions. Music is there to lift me up when I’m down, and it’s there to comfort me when life feels too tough to handle.


Music is also like an escape, distracting my mind from not just reality but also from the violent emotions and racing thoughts I can be stuck in. Music has the power of relaxation to my mind and body. If I want that inner feeling of relaxation, I can put on a song and lay in bed. Even in 2020, I played my ukulele as an escape. Its sweet and bright tunes were like a lullaby to my ears.


Music is also effective in evoking feelings of nostalgia and emotional memories. Throughout the pandemic, I also liked to listen to music that was associated with different time periods of my life. Music is magical, taking me to different worlds. These put me at ease and lighten up my mood.


I love that my mood and emotions can reflect whatever song I choose to listen to. Music can either be suitable for my mood, or it can alter or change my mood. I can trust melodies to make me happier or even to make me sadder. Upbeat songs may make me feel alert or satisfied. Somber songs can make me feel pleasantly miserable. Either way, music moves and touches me.


Overall, music is one of the most enjoyable human experiences. It fulfills many purposes for me. It’s lovely, it’s impactful, it’s powerful, it’s a coping mechanism. It is and always has been there for me whenever I call for it.


Word Count: 500