Like, Literarily! - Issue 7 - Special Edition: Call-Age Apps

By Su Ji (Susie) Kim - 12th Grade

Like, Literarily!

Issue

7

By Verónica Acevedo - 12th Grade

CNG

Like, Literarily! - Issue 7

January 2019

Like, Literarily!

Special Edition: Call-Age Apps The Bilingual, Student-run Literary Journal of CNG

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Like, Managing Editor:

Literarily! - Issue 7

Andrea Alvarado

Editors:

Andrea Rabinovich Verónica Copello Nicolás Rosas Nicole Natal Luciana García Silvia Forero

Marketing Editor: Paulina Ruiz

Art Editor: Giorgio Trettenero Teacher Advisors:

Guzmán Julio - MS & HS Technology Teacher Ernesto Carriazo Osorio - HS Spanish Teacher Diana Marcela Sánchez - HS Philosophy Teacher

Stalin López - HS AP 2D Design Teacher

Printed by :

Cima Impresores E.U.

Special thanks to the H.S. Principal: Janice Ellerby.

Associate Principals: Bradley Park and Ivan Velasco.

Colegio Nueva Granada Cra 2 Este No 70-20 www.cng.edu Bogotá, Colombia ISSN 2590-5287 January of 2019 2

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Table of Contents

Call-Age Apps The Leather Chair, by Paulina Ruiz Wiggling Ears. Anonymous El Tiempo, by Andrea Rabinovich Muhammad Ali. Anonymous Ahuacamolli. Anonymous Dichotomy, by Nicolás González The Practice of Overthinking, by Veronica Copello Dear Roommate. Anonymous My Family of Bean Plants. Anonymous A Helping Hand, by Hector Cure Ten Letters and Three Syllables. Anonymous The One that Will Be, by Juanita Moreno The Happiest Place on Earth. Anonymous

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Wiggling Ears Anonymous

What do you like to do for fun?

I enjoy taking care of Roberto, the kidney bean plant that reminds me of my young, naive and nosy self—the little girl who came to her fourth grade class early morning to water her bean with a fun-sized pipette. Growing beans like Roberto is fun because of their precariousness—they decide to grow centimeters one day or not at all on another.Today, Roberto is the new addition to my family of bean plants.

I’ve never had a pet, although I did desire one a few years ago, but now plants r golf, watering the plants are the actions of my parallel self to the engineer I aspire to be.

But again, they are, indeed, a Herculean task. Sometimes, they do not obey and grow—or die—at their own will, but sometimes, it is I who makes the mistake. Maybe I do not water them at ideal intervals, maybe it’s too cloudy one day, or maybe it’s just me indulging in this emotional rollercoaster of germination and sometimes, unfortunately, plant necrosis—but it’s never a fungus.

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The Leather Chair Paulina Ruiz

Tell us about the place, or places, you call home. These can be physical places where you have lived, or a community or group that is important to you.

A 45-minute walk away from my house, on the second floor of Starbucks, you will find a leather chair. Although the vast population of only myself knows very well that this is my spot, there are many other customers that seem willing to outright defy this rule. This chair is a treasure that I was fortunate enough to come across two years ago, while on a desperate search for motivation. Since then I am more than happy to announce our relationship has flourished into one of near dependency, and I would even dare give it the fought-for title of one of my many homes. To many, home is a place where they feel safe. To me, home is the place where I feel endangered and the place where I have many times come too close for comfort to my breaking point. As ludicrous as this may seem, it is only when I feel truly exposed that I am able to challenge myself to the fullest. Although I have yet to discover the cure for cancer, this chair has been where I have fully reflected by exposing myself to myself. It has led me to personal, mental, and academic inspiration. A place that allows me to grow is a place where I want to be forever, so hopefully in 80 years, if sugar does not get the best of me, you will see my abnormally wide coffin, and you will know that inside I will be sitting on that very chair.

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Wiggling Ears Anonymous

Indicate any special talents or skills you possess: Thousands of years ago our ancestors were able to move their ears in order to be able to locate food and detect the presence of predators with greater ease. While most people today have evolved so that this is no longer one of their traits, I can say with great pride that I find myself in the 10-20% of the population that is able to wiggle their ears. Specifically, I can wiggle my ears both jointly and individually.

As a five-year-old, wiggling my ears was the beginning to any new friendship.

However, now, at the age of 16, this vestigial feature is no longer the key to uncharted popularity. Nevertheless, regardless of this thoroughly disappointing reality, this is a skill that keeps me connected to the past, and aware of the future. Thousands of years ago, being able to wiggle one’s ears was a skill that, among many others, embodied the idea of survival. 83 years from now, if sugar does not get the best of me, I hope this skill encompasses the essence of who I was and who I am, a particular human being who allowed for the survival of, and ideally accomplished, great things.

I can only wish that, a year from now, when I am reminiscing with my Turkish/ Chinese/Iranian roommate at Darnall Hall, I can tell her how my ear wiggling talent, although not useful for much else, helped me get into college.

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El Tiempo Andrea Rabinovich

Please briefly elaborate on one of your extracurricular activities or work experiences.

I knew, as soon as I stepped foot in the old building, that I was where I was meant to be. The busyness, the noise, yet the dominant calmness—I expected nothing less from El Tiempo, Colombia’s most widely known and respected newspaper.

The newsroom bustled with reporters filing last minute stories, phones ringing, people yelling from side to side. Everyone was focused on the next day’s edition.

Everything that was to be printed needed to be uploaded to the system by 10 PM. “But what if something important happens after 10? Does it get included?” I asked Perla, my guide. “It’s simple,” she replied. “We always leave a blank space. The front page story isn’t decided until 2 AM.” In that moment I knew I wanted to spend endless nights deciding what stories to include and which ones could wait for a later edition. I want to be in charge of choosing the cover story, I want to find a way to engage readers every day just as I’ve been.

From observing a seemingly stressed writer one day, I learned what until now has been the most important journalism tip I’ve received. She was covering current events for the online edition of the paper and it was just prior to the Colombian Presidential elections, she needed to include a poll that would predict the winner; 8

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a very stressful situation indeed. As we talked, I shared a few of my own political views as she told me: “As journalists we must remain unbiased, we have to report the truth regardless of our own views.”

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By Gabriela Gómez - 12th

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By Rafaella Gallo - 12th Grade

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Muhammad Ali Anonymous

Describe something outside of your intended academic focus about which you are interested in learning.

I have always enjoyed thrilling experiences and have manifested this addiction in the sports I practice. These range from anything like off-boundary skiing to cliff diving to white water rafting to kite-surfing. However, a long-held interest of mine that I have not yet found the time to dedicate to, is boxing. Admittedly first attracted to this activity by the 1984 version of The Karate Kid, my interest for it only grew with time. That’s not to say that I still don’t want to look as cool as Daniel LaRusso did after defeating Johnny Lawrence with his signature “crane kick,” but am now more interested in the focus and skill needed to be a great boxer.

The focus required to study the movements of one’s opponent and predict their attacks amazes me. Boxers must persevere despite pain and must master their fear so as to reach this concentrated state, all of which is demonstrative of tremendous willpower. By this example alone, it is evident that boxing requires skills beyond those physical, as a strong mentality is equally as important. Boxing would not only help me develop my character, but it would provide me with a space to simply think. When worried, I resort to exercise as a means of meditation and an outlet to my frustrations, and boxing would serve this purpose exceptionally well. All in all, I’m not saying I will become the next Muhammad Ali (though that would be nice), but I will soon be in a boxing ring.

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Ahuacamolli Anonymous

Dog and Cat. Coffee and Tea. Great Gatsby and Catcher in the Rye. Everyone knows there are two types of people in the world. What are they?

Over the course of history, there have been infinitely many divisive topics, but only one has been so straightforwardly answerable by a yes or a no: can you make guacamole? If you just thought to yourself that you know how to make guacamole because you believe you could handle squashing an avocado with a fork, let me be the first to tell you: you most certainly do not know how to make guacamole. This art form (because, yes, making guacamole is an art) requires no pre-requisite, but the end result can be aptly judged.

Have you ever observed Gustav Klimt’s The Kiss? The final product of guacamole is much like this painting. The man is firmly grasping the woman in an embrace, but is equally as gentle in his manner of laying a kiss upon her cheek. The ingredients used to make guacamole must be firm in their kick (whether that be in a hint of spice or a tad of sweet), but must be equally as gentle in their texture. To reach that point, scientific precision is necessary in the quantities used of each ingredient, but the exact amounts needed are not set, they are simply something you know.

Ahuacamolli, as it was originally called by the Aztecs decades ago, is a window into what lies at a person’s core, at their stone (or avocado seed, for those of you who are on the other side of the line I’ve drawn in the sand). Most important is to know that anyone who makes ahuacamolli with a mere combination of avocado, 13

salt, and pepper is untrustworthy. Not only is this person breaking the sacred trust of our Mesoamerican ancestry in failing to follow the basic guidelines to creating a harmonious bowl of guac (as it’s called by true connoisseurs), but they are disregarding tradition.That’s not to say I’m against challenging traditions (because where would we be if Simón Bolivar hadn’t challenged oppressive monarchs in their traditional manner of ruling), but there are some traditions that are meant to be left untouched. Making guacamole with such basic ingredients is like wearing a costume and going trick-or-treating on Christmas Eve. It is simply not done. For those of you who break unbreakable traditions, you are the chips of life.

Like peanut butter and jelly, guac and chips are complementary and are best when combined. Imagine a Tom without a Jerry or a Mr. Darcy without a Mr. Bingley: a final product in the end less valuable than the whole (but I’ll let you decide who’s the main character and who’s the secondary character). The roles played by guac and chips in social settings are representative of the characteristics of both types of people. The food table at a party is the place to be when bored (and at all other times, for that matter), so food is a means of entertainment. Chips, the welcoming party, are the first choice, but they are dangerously addictive because they can be incessantly nibbled on even when not hungry. Once a bit more sociable and willing to mingle with strangers, everything becomes more interesting alongside ahuacamolli. The negative aspect of guac, however, is the mess you can easily create to then have to laboriously clean. So, both chips and guac come with a high risk and potentially high reward.

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The two types of people in the world are those who know how to make ahuacamolli and those who do not, also known as guac and chips, respectively. But can one not learn to make guacamole? Maybe there are no battle lines to be drawn, but simply steps to be taken in a process of growth. Maybe there is no growth to be had, but simply differences to be embraced.

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Dichotomy Nicolás González

Describe one of your unique personality traits which will make you a valuable member of our community. Give us an example of when this aspect of your personality helped you through a situation.

The god Shiva performs the cosmic dance, poised perfectly between a meditative stillness and the motion of creation and destruction. This famous image is called Nataraj, and it captures precisely the balance I wish to maintain: A duality of loud noise and complete silence, a balance between dance and meditation.

Ever since I was a boy I was always surrounded by women. I have four sisters. Most of my uncles are actually aunts, and most of my cousins are female. Because of this, I was always forced to dance at family gatherings, and funny enough, I only started to like it when I was about 14. Before then, it was extremely tedious to me.

By assimilating myself into Colombian culture, the more I recognized the value dance had in its roots. Imagine a canvas filled with color. Bright reds, crazy yellows, flamboyant oranges, serene blues, and lively greens. This is what salsa is: a mix of feelings, an explosion of energy, a fiery passion.

The trumpets of the song “La Rebelion” makes my blood boil with excitement. I can’t help but move to the rhythm of the song following the steps dictated by my heart. Letting my energy flow freely, I live in the moment and enjoy every trumpet blast, piano key, and word of the historical lyrics. Letting my energy run wild lets me forget, but it also enables me to reflect: it’s my “restart” button for all my “bad 16

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days.” This passion, to me, is represented in the rings of fire surrounding the Hindu God during his cosmic dance. He controls the fire to his advantage to destroy or create, in much the same way that I use the music to create dance and destroy negativity. Yet we can’t forget the most import motif in this artwork at the center of the Nataraja: Shiva. In a meditative reality, yet in a constant movement, he symbolizes the control he has over the world, much as we have control over our own minds during meditation.

I started to practice meditation much later in my life, yet my calling to it occurred much earlier than I would have thought. When I was four years old, my family was leaving the historical park of Chichen Itza and I bothered my mother for what seemed like forever until she finally bought me the pyramid. I didn’t know it yet, but this would change my life. That simple pyramid would take me on a thirteen-year journey, taking me where I am today. It would become the first member of my vast collection of crystals and pyramids, my companions of meditation. This is the other side of me. The quiet side of me. I can feel every muscle let go, as the stillness of my body is a witness to its own breathing, slowly letting go of stress, anger, and negative energies. There I stay, relaxing my mind from the outside world that surrounds me, from all of the noise, the commotion, the chaos. I feel my heart beating, a gentle yet powerful pump every few seconds to remind me that I’m still alive. The air entering my nose fills my entire body, as if it were a balloon, and then, peacefully leaves me.

I am still and in control. I am quiet and at peace.

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My crystals and pyramids greet me after a long day of school as I step into my room to disconnect once more. Whether it be a missed homework assignment, a failed test, or the recent death of my grandfather, meditation is always there to help me. It gives me the opportunity to reduce the revolutions in my head, to think more clearly, to relax. It has given me the space to feel and cry, when I wouldn’t let myself before to instead put on a mask of strength to support my family through hard times.Though still in the process, it has helped me find peace again, and whenever I look to that first pyramid that has been with me through the whole process, I smile.

I realize that I need both in my life, that they interdependently give each other meaning. If we were always moving, there would be no need to dance, and if we were always still, there would be no need for meditation. Motion and stillness give each other meaning in the same way that life and death do. Similar to the cosmic dance of the iconic Nataraj, dancing is my form of meditation.

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The Practice of Overthinking Veronica Copello

Personal statement: I enjoy thinking about philosophy as the most legitimate practice of overthinking, the reasonable approach to thoughts, the careful dismantling of every question, word, and implication, with no focus on any absolute answer. It is a meticulous job, and a necessary one in a world highly influenced by poorly-thought-out opinions where one party frequently feels entitled to win an argument. The philosopher does not find himself competing over authority, and instead aims to further thinking through interrogation and reflection, in hopes of increasing understanding.

This is why I try my best to engage in the philosopher’s skill. I want to continue the dialogue that involves the expression of a thought, and I want to do this by analyzing a medium that artistically conveys this expression: literature. I have previously delved into analyses pertaining to the fields of philosophy and literature with the use of research and analytical skills I have gained throughout my education. One year ago, I was able to investigate the way in which Italian and French cinema of the late 1940s portrayed Albert Camus’s theory of the absurd, as expressed in “The Myth of Sisyphus”. Currently, I am researching the way in which Crime and Punishment constructs the Aristotelian concept of justice as defined in Nicomachean Ethics. The main focus of this project is the implications of the construction of a philosophical theory in a novel, especially one that reaches so closely to human behavior, and that is fundamental to the concept of morality.

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Dostoevsky’s artistic expression reflects the value of formalism and the aesthetic component to literature. Another author that does this is Dickens with his wineflooded streets that foreshadow the blood stains of the French Revolution. These literary works, amongst others, reflect the value of both aesthetics and ideas that authors adopt in order to convey these subjects that have reached the human identity throughout history. Hence, the analysis accompanying these subjects are a call for reflection and empathy: skills needed in today’s world of diversity and individualism.

Therefore, despite my passion for academia and my desire to become a scholar, I do not only want to be an expert in literary studies and philosophy. I want to teach them to others. I value the sharing of thinking as Socrates values reflection, Plato dialogue, and Aristotle community; as people acquire greater critical and analytical skills, they are better able to engage in current controversies and sociocultural issues.

This is what I have been trying to develop in a learning program for underprivileged adults in my home city, Bogota. The aim of the program is to give these people an opportunity to attend school and validate their high school degree, which they never got a chance to do in their youth. The core classes have been designed to strengthen citizen competencies, but more than anything, this program is about teaching people how to think for themselves with the evidences they have of the world they live in.

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It is the same skill I have learned throughout high school, and that I respect so much today. And as a critical thinker, I would like to continue my studies in a place that physically resembles this analysis; I want to live what I am studying. Furthering my education in Scotland allows me to do this: the history behind the country, the architecture, and the landscapes are stimulants for reflection, which combined with the study programmes, provide a full picture of what literary studies and philosophy mean to me. At its core, I want to be in a community that values intellect and analysis, in a place that reflects these values.

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Dear Roommate Anonymous

Virtually all of Stanford’s undergraduates live on campus. Write a note to your future roommate that reveals something about you or that will help your roommate – and us – know you better.

I hope this note finds you eating hot Cheetos, for you will have to get used to their smell when I am around. But be careful because I love food so much to the extent I am willing to take yours. Therefore, I’ll give you advice: if you want me to get food for you, choose something I’m not a huge fan of, because otherwise I’ll probably eat it on my way back. This is why eating together will guarantee some safety to your food, but also give you a chance to listen to monologues about why I don’t believe in the 5-second rule.

But I also want to know more about you aside from your opinion on my dilemmas.

Who’s your favorite singer? What’s your favorite food? But most importantly, what are your dilemmas? I hope that we’ll get to have a designated breakfast place—if neither of us succeed at making any edible food—where we can talk about all these absurdities. And in those special places we choose, we’ll make the perfect song playlists for us to listen to after long days or for when we meditate (I hope you’ll join meditation with me!).

I am overly excited to meet you, but before, stay safe and stash for the adventure we’ll embark from the limits of our dorm room.

P.S. I hope you like Korean food because we’ll be eating at Korean restaurants whether you like it or not!

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My Family of Bean Plants Anonymous

What do you like to do for fun?

I enjoy taking care of Roberto, the kidney bean plant that reminds me of my young, naive and nosy self—the little girl who came to her fourth grade class early morning to water her bean with a fun-sized pipette. Growing beans like Roberto is fun because of their precariousness—they decide to grow centimeters one day or not at all on another.Today, Roberto is the new addition to my family of bean plants.

I’ve never had a pet, although I did desire one a few years ago, but now plants suffice; they’re annoying enough already. However, no matter how volatile they are, these photosynthetic wonders have become the guides who have shown me both the liability and dependency humans have on plants. As a result, this mentality has allowed me to engage and join the seemingly static nature of plants in the most audacious and majestic way. Now, I’d never ask for a pet; plants are just as clever and mischievous.

Many friends and teachers have asked me why I do not pursue anything professional around plants. Yes, I do know how to take care of one, but again, like pets, plants are my fellow companions, and they sit on my desk watching my other aspirations grow instead. In fact, they have witnessed every action, choice, and decision I’ve made, because just as I like playing piano or golf, watering the plants is yet the other action of my parallel self, alongside the engineer I aspire to be.

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But again, they are, indeed, a Herculean task. Sometimes, they do not obey and grow—or die—at their own will, but sometimes, it is I who makes the mistake. Maybe I do not water them at ideal intervals, maybe it’s too cloudy one day, or maybe it’s just me indulging in this emotional rollercoaster of germination and sometimes, unfortunately, plant necrosis—but it’s never a fungus.

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A Helping Hand Hector Cure

Reflect on your engagement with a community to which you belong. How do you feel you have contributed to this community?

We all have friends, sibling, and parents. These people shape who we are and have the utmost importance as they always care for us. Going with my father to hospitals since I was little taught me the value of a community, a home, a family. Children who are suffering from serious illnesses only want the company of their parents and friends. However, I always saw patients who felt alone and depressed because their family members couldn’t stand by them and watch them perish. Just as my family and friends support me in any situation, I realized I wanted to empathize with families who were agonizing in hospitals due to complicated conditions. For this reason, I began volunteering at the Clinica General del Norte by interacting with children who have to bear with the most dreadful diseases. By playing with them, talking to them about topics they are interested in, and helping them with their homework I tried to make them forget for an instance that they were sick, and make them realize that they are not alone, that they have other people in their lives that value and stand by them. I continued doing this because I understood that these kids are not different from me or anyone else and that they make part of my same community because we all have people who we consider our family, and we all need them in our lives to give us strength and serve as our backbone to overcome any obstacle.

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Ten Letters and Three Syllables Hector Cure

What’s your favorite word and why?

Ten letters and three syllables. This word is defined as the ability to recover promptly from difficulties. It means toughness, thickness, permanence. It holds an intrinsic characteristic all human beings should hold. I respect this word because it is an attribute I’ve been striving to embody my whole life now that extraordinary people exemplify it. Three syllables. Three lives. Three significant examples of this word.

First, we have Srinivasa Ramanujan, the astounding Indian mathematician who studied at Cambridge, and who was a pioneer in the discovery of the properties of partition functions despite having teachers and students demean him for his cultural background. Second, Aung San Suu Kyi, the famous Nobel Peace Prize laureate of 1991 who fought for human rights and democracy in Myanmar by creating a political party, the National League for Democracy, even though she had her party banned by the former authoritarian government and was imprisoned without having the possibility to contact her children and her dying husband. The last syllable, Robert Goddard, an American engineer who built the first liquid-fueled rocket while his peers mocked him for having that ridiculous ambition at the time.

This word with ten letters also relates to elasticity, another ten-lettered word, which cannot only be defined scientifically as the capability of an object to return to its normal shape after being stretched but also as the ability to change and adapt.

As my education progresses, understanding more about the natural world would give me the possibility to change my own thoughts in order to explore beyond the limits of knowledge even if it seems impossible. This would drive me to contribute 26

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something in the scientific field through continuous research and effort. Finally, I would be able to proudly carry that particular word that exceptional people epitomize: resilience.

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The One that Will Be Juanita Moreno

Some students have a background, identity, interest or talent that is so meaningful they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, please share your story.

It’s 6 A.M., and the reflection of a four-year-old girl is staring back at me; she smiles.

The 18-year-old is enjoying a breakfast she made herself and sipping a cup of hot Colombian coffee. The four-year-old can’t wait to grow up. She wants to take over the world, and she wants to do it with her hair done, wearing Momma’s long heavy earrings and to the sound of the clickety-clack of her high heels. The one that was, and the one that is, both have the same eager look in their eyes: eager for knowledge, eager for independence, eager for success.

Sometimes that eagerness turned out to have consequences, like the time the four-year-old wanted to blow-dry her hair on her own. Once Mom left the house, she grabbed the round brush and wrapped a big strand of hair around it. She had watched her mom do it countless times and was sure she could replicate every move. The audacious occurrence soon ended in chopping hair from her head in order to set the brush free. Other times, her eagerness to learn drove her to spend hours in front of her favorite books, attempting to master the art of not only reading right-side-up but also upside down.

Soon enough, the girl discovered the taste of independence. Fresh out of the shower, the now-five-year-old would brag happily to the camera about her 28

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latest accomplishments: “I showered, on my own! I got dressed, on my own! I did everything all on my own!” while Mom giggled from behind the lens.

At 10 -years -old, she decided that independence came with earning her own money. First, it was a lemonade stand in the hot summer months. Then came the start-up: turning her bracelet-making hobby into a jewelry business, business cards and all.

At 16, with a driver’s license, the girl felt she could truly conquer the world, and she could do it on four wheels. That small piece of paper meant she no longer needed her parents to take her places, just permission and a set of keys. Now, she could do things that young girls in a conservative society wouldn’t normally do: make doctor’s appointments and show up, do her own grocery shopping, board a plane, and nothing made her feel prouder than the realization that she did it “all on her own”. That sense of responsibility led her to organize the annual fundraiser that is crucial for each CNG class. She glowed from the pride of her accomplishments, she revealed at the sight of her hard-work on the runway, she relished the thought of the lives that would improve because of it, and the clickety-clack had never been more perfect.

At 18 she strides across her college campus, carrying the egg sandwich she’s perfected over the years. She stands tall while presenting a case study in Marketing 101. Her roommate waits for her at their dorm, where a load of laundry waits to 29

be done over talks about jeans that no longer fit, exciting lectures and newly discovered study spots around campus. Later, she sits at the dining hall she’s determined as her favorite, surrounded by new friends from clubs and classes, and there’s nowhere she’d rather be.

She remembers being four and walking down a hallway, wearing Mom’s heels and carrying a pink toy computer. The four-year-old would walk with purpose, arriving at an important meeting, and with each step she radiates the confidence and power of a successful businesswoman who has accomplished her dreams.

The 30-year-old steps into the elevator of the corporate building where she works.

As the doors close, she sees her reflection: long heavy earrings, coiffed hair and high heels. She steps out, and as she walks into her office, the echo of a clicketyclack resounds around her.

The one that was and the one that is smile at the one that will be.

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The Happiest Place on Earth Anonymous

I would’ve liked to witness Disneyland’s opening. Watching nightmarish Mickey Mouse performing acts would be utterly hilarious. However, I’d love to see how the incipience of such place full of chaos, heat, and crowds led to the creation of “The Happiest Place on Earth” through dedication, creativity, and resilience.

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