Crafting the Essay
WRITING ANTHOLOGY July 7, 2017 | ISSUE 1
Congratulations on a successful first week, writers!
WRTG A with K. Keener & Joy Chen CTY Santa Cruz, Summer 2017 – Session 1 Photo by Joy Chen
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TABLE OF CONTENTS 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .GIA 4 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .CHRIS 5 . . . . . . . . . . . . . ANNIKA 7 . . . . . . . . . . . . . WESLEY 8 . . . . . . . . . . . . . .ALLENE 9 . . . . . . . . . . . . . .NANCY 11 . . . . . . . . . . . KATELYN 13 . . . . . . . . . . . . TANNIA 14 . . . . . . . . . . . CHARLEY 17 . . . . . . . . . . . . . REENA 18 . . . . . . . . . . . . . .COCO 19 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .LEO 21 . . . . . . . . . . . AUDREY
Fear of the Inevitable A Sugar Response
By GIA Dear Scared of the Future, I’ve always had an extremely strong connection with my nana, my grandmother on my mom’s side. We have always been, and continue to be very close, so the day I learned she had cancer was one of the worst days of my life. You see, ever since I was a young child, I’ve had this irrational fear that all my family members, especially my nana, would die, and I would be left all alone. I couldn’t stop being consumed over it, over the fact that in a split second, my whole world could change. But being consumed by the thought doesn’t change anything. Being tormented by it it wouldn’t take away the fact that my nana had cancer and I couldn’t do a single thing about it. I didn’t get to see her as she went through session after session of chemotherapy; as she went through session after session of doctors and machines shooting radiation into her already sick body. I didn’t get to visit her as she went through this life or death process. I look back on it now and realize the only reason I didn’t see her was because my mom was protecting me. She was protecting me and my brother, and maybe even herself, from seeing a loved one that was in a state so out of the norm that it would have scared us. Scratch that. It would have petrified us. It would have made that fear inside of me only grow. I did get to see her when the cancer was finally dormant, and her long, shiny black hair was reduced to a short, light gray bush on her otherwise bald face. I remember thinking to myself: she has finally done it all. This story may or may not have meant anything to you, Scared of the Future, but being scared of the unknown resonates with every topic that is beyond our control. It’s the thing I’ve been carrying with me since I learned that my nana survived and, through your fear of getting cancer, it is the thing you wrote to me about.
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Darling, you are worrying about one of life’s many “what if” scenarios. You can get cataracts or you can get into a car crash. You can conceive a child, or you can lose a friend. You can get cancer, or you can worry about getting cancer. The bottom line is: there is no point in worrying about the uncontrollable things in life. You are only given one chance at life, and you’re going to spend it fearing something out of your control? I thought not. You, my friend, should be living your life to the fullest. You should tell your spouse what he may or may not have to go through; if he truly loves you, he will understand your fears, support you no matter what, and be there for your friends and family if you died. Just remember, the same expectations apply to you. There is no definitive way of knowing whether or not you will get cancer, just as there is no definitive way of knowing your future. As you said, having “to make the decisions in my life while keeping this possibility in mind” is definitely a difficult task, but don’t let your fear of the inevitable take you away from your existence. You have the power to choose what you want to do in life. You have the power to make yourself happy. I cannot tell you if you should get married, or if you have cancer. I cannot tell you how to make yourself happy. I can tell you that spending your whole life worrying about a sickness, rather than doing what you love and spending time with those you care about, is not worth it. You could spend your whole life worrying about cancer, and end up not getting it. Or, you could spend your whole life worrying about cancer, and get it. Either way, there will be things you wished you did before you were unable to do the things you love to do. There will be things you wish you would have done while you had the chance. So stop. Stop being bewitched by things you cannot control. Do the things you’ve always wanted to do, and tell your spouse how you feel. Do the things that make you happy. We can’t control the inevitable. We can’t control our future. Don’t let your life, your happiness, depend on your fear of the unknown. You should be able to look back on your life and say: I have finally done it all. Yours, Sugar
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You can get cancer, or you can worry about getting cancer.
Take the Risk
A Sugar Response
By CHRIS
Just remember, there’s no turning back.
Dear Undecided, My parents experienced the same thing as you and your partner with my older brother; they were too busy to have a baby. My father was studying to become the great lawyer he is now, my mother was working to maintain the house they live in. Also, my father worked night after night to get that dream house they wanted, with more than one room, a bigger kitchen, and great food that could stay in the fridge for months and not perish. But then my mom went to a doctor’s appointment, and everything was going well. Until the doctor saw the result sheet, he was astonished and he said, “Lady, you are pregnant!!” My mom was so shocked, she couldn’t even breathe, and it was like a nuclear bomb thrown to the Earth, leaving her mind blank. On the way to her work she was thinking, “How am I going to tell him?” or like, “How will he react?” Fortunately, he was surprised and excited, even though there was no turning back. Although they lived happily and had another child (which is me). You may be thinking, “How does this story relates to my problem?” Well, if you hadn't noticed, my parents weren’t able to do something to stop it. The baby was coming, and the only choice they had was to take care of that child. You still have a chance. It takes time to do decisions that would change your whole life, but if your partner loves you, why doesn’t she listen to you? Maybe she’s too afraid to tell the truth of the problem you are having. Like you said, “I believe I'm one of those who could be perfectly happy without children, and yet that doesn’t necessarily mean that I wouldn’t also be perfectly happy with children.” I know your fear, the fear of not being the way you wanted. Also your wife maybe hurt in some ways. If you're up to take the risk, it’s fine. Just remember, there’s no turning back. Yours, Sugar
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San Francisco A Place Essay
By ANNIKA I am still looking for another city that has the serene, lush parks, nestled in between angry streets with lumpy pavement portions, hidden staircases, coffee shop jewels, and Target outings turned to fiasco. I am waiting to encounter another city with a central monument beating oxygen through all the streets and neighbors just like San Francisco. I am still searching for a city that greets you with open arms, exposes unexpected quirks, has energy so fierce it occasionally transforms into hate, can pause a moment, taking a break from the typical road-rage, and can erupt into craziness from one short second to the next. One day, I am hoping to find another city just as unique, ecstatic, peaceful, and crazy as San Francisco. I was born in a Kaiser Hospital in 2003 just outside Laurel Village, a concrete neighborhood with the fishy smelling Cal-Mart and newly painted Starbucks. At the time I was born, it wasn’t anything special. Aside from the few trees scattered in planter boxes outside the bookstore, there wasn't any green in sight. But past the dentist office that almost exactly resembles a cottage on the corner, past the newly painted Starbucks, the fishy Cal-Mart, and bookstore is Golden Gate Park. The scent of freshly mowed grass wafting through slices of crisp air is a common smell and if you are quiet enough, you can hear the faint trickle of water. Tree after tree dapples the huge land which attracts the hums and peeps of birds. Time seems to slow down in the park and it is so untouchably silent. The elderly folks that have taken up Tai-Chi, the new families having picnics on plaid blankets with toddlers, the frequent 20 year old with dreads, a faded backpack, and a slight smell of weed, passing by the roller skaters moving to the beat of disco trying to relive the 70s, the bouncy swing dancers, and museum-goers all echo a diverse community. It is in Golden Gate Park that my breaths become steady, lengthy, and relaxed, that my head stops swarming with unneeded worries. It is Golden Gate park that mirrors my own serene side. Outside the safe haven of the park are 3 lane roads that are home to a blur of speedy cars, the 37 Corbett, and insane bikers that zoom around without helmets. Uprooted pavement makes driving in the city a “war-zone” as my dad puts it but honestly it feels more like a rickety roller coaster to me. Slapping sounds of honks are usually traded back and forth during rush hour and if you look close enough through tinted windows you can see a not-nicefinger coming your way. In many instances I find myself lashing out like the drivers on Market Street or snapping like the honks downtown. It is this aspect of myself and San Francisco that I wish would fade away, but it hasn’t. I am not sure it ever will. Heading up the “war-zone” streets you can occasionally find yourself right in front of Target City. Honestly, it is kind of an awkward place for a Target being on the corner of an extremely busy intersection but it is home to some of the craziest memories of San Francisco I have. It was an afternoon of shopping with two friends where we traveled around the city
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hopping on and off buses to find ourselves right in front of a red and white Target logo. From the big automatic steel doors we headed straight to the Home Aisle. Climbing on top of the shelves and cramming our almost-too-big bodies into the crevices between rolls of rug we found ourselves accompanied by three strangers that were girls around our age. Two of them were standing very still on either side of the aisle posing for what seemed to be mugshots. The third girl was tugging on their sleeves begging them to leave us alone but they wouldn’t budge. After a few awkward moments I started to become a little creeped out and slid down from the shelf. I ran past one of the girls with both of my friends behind me ducking between racks of clothing and purses. They were sprinting after us, chasing us through that Target. My friends and I held a position in the midst of long flowy sundresses to try and lose them. It was the craziest and strangest thing I had ever experienced and we never figured out who they were or why they chased us through Target on that Saturday afternoon but it made me fall in love with San Francisco all over again. The more I thought about the chase the more it reminded me of the crazy spurts of energy pulsing through my body and my city. One afternoon, I was lucky enough to catch a ride with my mom to Dogpatch, surrounded by overpasses. Deep in this unruly part of town houses an elated, outdoor garden store filled with adorable succulents and flowers and trees. Stepping into Flora Grubb is truly an experience. Every shade of green you thought possible to exist in the world soothes your eye as deep gold sun rays seep into your way-too-pale-I-need-a-tan skin. Right smack in the middle of the beautifully constructed garden lays one of those trendy coffee shops that makes designs in your lattes with frothy milk. It is one of those coffee shops where baristas are engaged in pleasant small talk that leaves everyone smiling, one of those coffee shops that has natural light spilling onto the floors, one of those coffee shops that warms your insides when you take a sip of a hot drink from a wide mouth mug and tickles your fingertips at the touch of the polished handle. It is one of those coffee shops that makes me think of the extraverted person I am striving to be and it is the open friendliness on the San Francisco streets, stores, and restaurants that reminds me so much of this hidden jewel. When people tell me they have been to San Francisco for a few nights visiting Alcatraz, Pier 39, Lumbard Street, taking a ride in a trolley car, I smile and ask them how they liked it. Really, however, I am disappointed that not everyone gets to experience the true spirit that can’t be found from tourist sites recommended by Trip Advisor. If you spend time in the fog, the lines for Boba Guys, the Giants games where you might as well bring a sleeping bag because it is so cold, and sit down on a bumpy stone bench outlining the center of the city monument feeling the pulse of the city’s heart beat next to yours. I will saw you have done it right. You have been to San Francisco.
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I am disappointed that not everyone gets to experience the true spirit that can’t be found from tourist sites recommended by Trip Advisor.
New Zealand A Place Essay By WESLEY
I fell in love with New Zealand the moment I tasted the seafood there. The fresh caught oysters, clams, and fish was one of the main highlights of the trip. As well as the amazing seafood, the nightlife was beautiful. From my hotel, I had a perfect view of millions of New Zealand’s city lights each taking turns turning on and off. I could stay on the balcony for hours staring if I wanted to. My first impression of New Zealand was that there would be old prisoners roaming the streets because my dad told me that it used to hold prisoners before New Zealand became a nation. That impression was wrong. There were no prisoners roaming the streets. After getting to know the place a little better, I had a new impression. The Kiwi, or New Zealanders, were really friendly and didn’t mind stopping to show you directions. New Zealand is also known for its nature. Its most famous natural tourist attraction is called the Hole in the Rock. From one view of the hole the ocean water on the other side looks dark but as you pass through the hole the water starts looking more clear. It felt as if I was going through a portal to another world. Another highlight of my trip was the Hobbiton movie set, where the Lord of the Rings was filmed. Even though you may have watched the movie, it’s very different from the movie when you go there. At the movie set your heart gives in to the cuteness of the village. “This hobbit hole is so cute,” one woman says while the people behind her rush in to take photos of the heart-warming hobbit holes, also known as hobbit homes. By the time the tour is over I looked at my camera and it says that there were 300 photos taken. Some people don’t find the Hole in the rock like a portal or Hobbiton heart-warming but, I do. Everybody is different in their own ways. Everybody can be interested in certain things. This trip changed the way I viewed the world. This is why I fell in love with New Zealand.
I could stay on the balcony for hours staring if I wanted to. 7
I fell in love with Hawaii the moment I stepped off the plane. The skies were a clear, bright blue, and the sparkling sun was warming my back. Everything there was absolutely wonderful! Especially the beach. I loved how groups of small birds would land on the soft, warm sand, looking for tiny pieces of leftover food, and I loved how the clear blue water was gentle as its waves fell onto the sand. I loved how the smooth sand calmed me as it ran through my fingers, and I loved how everyday I was there, the island of Honolulu smiled upon me. The people there welcomed me with a smile, and the children on the streets beamed at me as I walked past. During the one week I stayed in Hawaii, I visited many wonderful features there. I remember visiting the Dole Plantation, and the very first thing I noticed there was a huge field filled with unripe pineapples. I remember sniffing the air and discovering the delightful scent of pineapple everywhere I went. We toured the beautiful plantation, and in their store I walked by bright yellow pineapples packed into small plastic containers. Along the sides stood plush pineapple figures, and oversized shirts with pineapple print hung on the wall. The next day, we went snorkeling in the calm waters and swam near several playful dolphins. Fish of all colors danced beneath me as the ocean floor sparkled with beauty. Everything there took my breath away. I remember telling myself that I wanted to move to Hawaii when I was older, but being a small child, I only saw the positive side of Hawaii. What I didn’t notice was how some people wandering around on the island were crazy and dangerous. I didn’t notice the trash laying around on the beach, and I didn’t notice how the waves could become rough when it wasn’t gentle. Still, I had loved exploring Honolulu, but my parents had a few different opinions on several subjects. My father had thought the water was too cold, and my mother was more interested in areas with history and art. I, however, loved almost everything about Hawaii. The gentle ocean breeze that softly brushed past my face, the food trucks that were parked between a small gift shop and a crowded Italian restaurant, and the wide view of the beach through my large hotel window. There were, of course, things that I didn’t love about Hawaii. I remember swimming in the ocean and letting the waves catch me when I suddenly fell. Soon enough, my eyes began to burn
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Hawaii A Place Essay By ALLENE
I loved how groups of small birds would land on the soft, warm sand, looking for tiny pieces of leftover food . . .
community is simple. It’s where I belong. I loved Hawaii, but I’m no longer the same person I was before. I’ve come to realize that Hawaii isn’t where I truly belong. All Hawaii is to me now is just an exciting place to travel to. Still, it gave me a better understanding of the importance of looking through not only the positive side, but the negative side as well. The sand can be smooth, but it can also be annoying as it clings to the bottom of your feet. The water can be gentle, but the waves can become tough. When I stepped off the plane, all I saw were sunny skies and a dazzling beach, but even if it is the ideal area to live in for some people, I know in my heart that I belong right here in California.
in pain. The ocean salt had reached my eyes, and the pain I felt was unbearable. I was still in the state of shock when, before I knew it, my mouth was open. The salty water filled my mouth, and without thinking, I swallowed. I swam to the surface with burning eyes and the strong taste of salt water in my mouth. I felt as if the ocean, my trusted friend, had betrayed me! Although it was hard, I forgave Honolulu for its shocking betrayal, and I continued my vacation without thinking much about it anymore. Now that I think about it, I feel like I wouldn’t want to live in Hawaii after all. Honolulu was fun to explore, but that was only because it was a vacation. If I lived there, life would just be too different. Where I live in California, it’s fairly clean, work and fun are balanced, and my
Helpful Gossip A Sugar Response
By NANCY
Dear Odd Man Out, Perhaps your buddies have helped you in a way. When I was a small child of eight, I was extremely sensitive, as I am now. My second grade teacher was a stern man in his forties. He never waved or smiled at anyone. One day after school ended, he held me back in the classroom. He told me, “You have received a failing score for your math test. To make up for your low score, I have worksheets for you to do this week. They are due Friday.” He held the thickest stack of homework that I’ve ever seen. Immediately, I started bawling. It was elementary school. All I cared about were my pretty dolls and playing hopscotch every single day. “What’s the matter?” my teacher asked candidly. “Nothing,” I lied, taking the stack of homework and running out the door. When I got home, I told my mother, without hesitating, about what happened. Maybe it was because I hardly ranted like that, since her eyes frantically moved up and down my puny self. “Well, maybe your teacher is right, honey,” my mother stated serenely. “So you have to do it.” Her tone changed so dramatically, I couldn’t stand it. Once again, her harsh words could not be indulged by
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my emotional, juvenile self, and I burst into tears as I rushed upstairs to my quiet bedroom. Years later, I realized that maybe it was wrong to use tears against the true words of others, and to not recognize my failure. Those trustworthy adults were right. They weren’t deliberately trying to hurt my feelings, the same way your friends weren’t. They only cared for you and your life, which is what true friends do. Sometimes, what people do may seem erratic to you, but they are only trying to help you solve life’s hard problems. Son, please don’t feel hurt about what your friends have said. You wrote that “each of them apologized, assured me they meant nothing by what they said…”, so please do not be saddened. Your friends were concerned with your relationship, and they are only discussing it for the better. You may have taken this situation too hard, depending on how close you are with your friends. But honey, you have to learn to appreciate how much your friends care about you, even if they were talking behind your back. You said yourself that “these sorts of discussions among friends are to be expected,” which was scientifically proven to be correct. Just think of it from the other perspective. Your friends love you. You have known your friends since college, right? Well, do not lose them; the situation may get even worse. Feel free to inform your friends about being uncomfortable with them conversing behind your back. Do not feel betrayed; the real betrayal happens when friends neglect you for good. Your friends were considering about your future; they thought that you have made the wrong choice, but they didn’t want to hurt your feelings by saying it in front of you. When I was in second grade, my teacher and my mom cared about my education, which is why the worksheets were assigned to me. Your friends were like the parents of a wolf cub, or of anything; they wanted you to thrive in the outside world. If you lose them, mutual friends may find out and your “friend reputation” may lower. This is nothing to be disconsolate about; hopefully, by now, you have attained the lesson of love, affection, and friendship. Moreover, nothing is like losing a tradition you’ve done for a long time. I would say that you can find new friends, but just make sure to keep your college buddies. When you get to my age, what fun you’ll have recalling these stories! It might be hard and take time to become the best of friends again, but in the end, you will start to appreciate the long friendship you have made. Yours, Sugar
Do not feel betrayed; the real betrayal happens when friends neglect you for good. 10
Where the Sky Meets the Sea A Place Essay
By KATELYN Many people say they do not enjoy airplanes. They are either scared of it, they can’t get any sleep, or they just can’t sit still. I on the other hand, grew up dancing, and I earned the nickname “pretzel” because people claimed I could bend in crazy ways. This made airplanes no problem for me. As soon as we took off, I would kick away my shoes, maneuver around the seatbelt, and fall asleep right on my mom’s shoulder. On my plane ride to the Dominican Republic, I remember rolling up my plane window and taking a glance down. What was below me was a breathtaking view of a perfect seafoam colored coral reef merging with the vast, deep blue ocean. There were absolutely no clouds in the sky and the sunlight was shining down, making everything appear heavily saturated. I fell in love with the Dominican Republic the moment I breathed in the tropical scent of the salty Caribbean ocean, saw the towering palm trees hanging over me, and took in the warm beaming rays of sun. From the hotel room window, I could see so much sand, extending all the way from me, to where the sea met the sky. It was a never ending beach filled up with joyous families, each one with one or more multiple kids. In the hands of each child was a piña colada and a beach towel. I could hear all the children refusing to put on sunscreen. I could hear the little girls begging her parents to let her get a head of cornrows. I could feel the amount of excitement coursing through the bodies of every vacationer. It felt amazing to lay on the beach with an earbud in each ear listening to the soothing sounds of the waves in the background. It was hearing the street musicians tap out songs on their exotic looking instruments. It was seeing little kids ripping off pieces of their sandwiches to feed to the pigeons. It was walking along the shore with my family and collecting the most exquisite sea shells to put in a jar and bring home. It was going on morning runs with my mom on the beach to watch the sun rise over the horizon. It was all of that, that dug memories into my brain, creating unforgettable moments that would last a lifetime. Those moments I bring with me everywhere I go and I slowly build
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up more and more as I grow older. When I visit a new country, every bit of it fascinates me, and every time I leave, I take a bit of the country with me. From the eye of a local, I probably looked like just any regular daily tourist, but from my eye, it was a once in a lifetime experience to get a taste of a new culture. I loved when my family would sit down for dinner at any place and the first thing they would say is some sort of complicated Spanish phrase. Then my dad and I would proceed to google translate everything to learn as much Spanish as possible. Then of course, when we would attempt to talk to people in our google translated language, they would look at us like we were out of our minds. Near the end of my trip, as we were leaving through the elevator, there was a kind woman who looked like she worked in the hotel and was pushing a cart full of plates and glasses. She gave my family each a leis to wear as a type of souvenir of our trip. It was the small type of stuff like that, that the people of the Dominican Republic did which put me immediately in a happy mood. It is crazy to think that a place like that would still be a very poor developing country. At the airport, liquids that you bring in yourself are banned for safety reasons. At the airport in the Dominican Republic, we passed through security and as we were boarding the plane, we found a bottle of Mountain Dew that we had accidentally brought through security. The technology they used was not as advanced as the United States and I felt like that reflected upon the country itself and all of the poverty and hunger. I felt like the beautiful country was a beautiful paradise, but it was only used to treat tourists. That was when I learned that I had an easy life, but not everyone was as lucky. That trip was what taught me that every time I boarded a plane and could kick off my shoes and go to sleep, there were so many people in the world that have never been able to do that and most likely will never be able to see where the sea meets the sky.
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From the hotel room window, I could see so much sand, extending all the way from me, to where the sea meets the sky.
Mr. Undecided A Sugar Response
Your worry about missing your old life will soon blur; you’ll be distracted by the love of your child.
By TANNIA
Dear Undecided, I can see where you're coming from, having kids is a very big step in life and a lot does have to be given up. I’ve suffered something like your situation, but with my cats. Yes, love I have two wonderful beautiful cats. You might say this isn't alike your situation but it is. Both of these cats are a huge responsibility just like kids. Cats or any pet in general have their pros and cons. For instance, my cats to tend to shed a lot of hair and they do tend to bring to ruin a lot of my furniture. Not only to the tend to bring me mice as gifts they also can be very feisty creatures. But they do comfort me when I'm sad. They also make me feel safe. They also keep me company. They do make me feel loved. I can assure you that your cats did the same. Forget about those second thoughts. You have to realize that everything has their good and bad. You can't expect everything to be perfect with your child. Cause nothing or nobody is perfect. Having a child will be a stressful task. But I say go for it. If it went good with your cats and you're as good at raising, then you're going to be a great father. Don't bother about your second thought everyone planning to have a child goes through this. Your worry about missing your old life will soon blur, you’ll be distracted by the love of your child. But you will go through some hard time with your child. Well I hope you're into changing diapers and staying up all night. Yours, Sugar
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Influence of Place A Place Essay
By CHARLEY I fell in love with Shibuya, Tokyo, the moment I laid my eyes on the busy streets. I was 7, wearing a pink dress with pigtails. My mother decided to take me to Shibuya, she wanted me to experience the craziest areas in Tokyo. I, being a 7 year old squealed with delight the moment she told me where we were going that weekend. To me, it was a special occasion, many of my friends already had experienced the crazy Shibuya streets. On that Saturday afternoon, my mother and I rode the Shibuya Eki Bus. This bus was one of the most ridden buses in the main areas of Tokyo, for it stops at the main station in Tokyo, the Shibuya Eki. By the time my mother and I got on the bus, it was packed with people. We got to Shibuya a few minutes later, stepping off the bus to get some fresh air from the bus that smelled like sweat. As soon as both of our lungs were cleared, my mother grabbed my hand and pushed the doors open for me to see the busy crowded streets of Shibuya. I was greeted with all kinds of different people, ranging from kids like me to drunk adults sleeping on the edge of the sidewalk, too hungover to move. My mother glanced at me, to see the reaction of her 7 year old daughter after seeing one of the crazy areas of Tokyo. Most 7 year olds would’ve been terrified of these streets. These were the streets with horrifying adults with bloodshot eyes, some even high on drugs. But unlike others, I was mesmerized by the scenic view that was shown to me. I mentioned in the beginning of what I wore that day. A pink dress with pigtails. You may be thinking that this has nothing to do with Shibuya. Well, you’re wrong, it has everything to do with Shibuya. For a 7 year old STILL wearing pink, it was hard to get accepted in the school. Well, at least my school. Kids believed it was ‘disgusting’ that people wore pink. So for me looking at the crazy streets of Shibuya with ojisan’s and otaku’s wearing frilly pink dresses with tiny little umbrellas that didn’t even fit the size of their heads, I felt accepted. Not because my head didn’t fit tiny little umbrellas, but because these people weren’t fake. They wore what they wanted. Not because of trend. Because they wanted to
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dress like this. And for this seven year old, she felt like she was welcomed into this area with open arms. Besides, all this kid is thinking is how people older than 7 were wearing pink AND dresses. (Now that I think about it, I sound like a psychopath.) My mother was surprised with my reaction. She was looking at a tiny kid grinning ear to ear staring at a crazy looking ojisan. I’m quite sure she thought I was crazy as well. But suddenly, something snapped in her. Maybe she decided that even if she hated Shibuya, she needs to show her daughter around because she wanted to make her daughter happy. So she grabbed my arm and started dragging me towards the center of Shibuya, the heart and soul of Shibuya. We halted to a stop in front of a building. Picture a skyscraper painted white on the street dogenzaka. Red Numbers, 109 was plastered on the building with the words SHIBUYA written on top. At the time, I didn’t know where this was. But if someone asks me what 109 is now, I’d tell them that it’s a shopping area with ridiculously dressed girls who walked with their high heels as if someone was teaching a newborn giraffe how to roller skate, like the way my mother would explain 109 and Shibuya itself. But as I said, I had no idea where this was so to this little 7 year old Charley it was some kind of magical kingdom in disneyland. I looked over to my mother and asked,. “Is this real?’ She gave me a quick serious nod. “This is real.” I remember running excitedly to the doors, pushing it open with my tiny hands. As soon as I opened the door, I was face to face with another person dressed almost EXACTLY like me. And as I looked around, I saw more people like me, some even dressed crazier than me. I remember giving my mom my grateful toothless grin as my mom smiled. Over the next year, I continuously dragged my mother back to this 109, even though she hated it there. She believed that these people didn’t know what they were doing, but I didn’t care about her opinion. I wanted to be me. By the time 8, I looked like a tiny version of these Shibuya girls with a lot more simpler clothing and neon pink converses. This place was my second home. If my parents allowed me to, I would’ve lived there, in the crazy coloured stores with the beanbags that made you sink like quicksand. My mother wasn’t too happy that I was becoming a mini version of these crazy Shibuya people even though she was the one who introduced me to these streets. But she never mentioned during that phase on how she wished I was like all the other kids in my school because she wanted me to be happy. But over time, like most places and people, the place and I changed. It’s common really for a place and a person to change. The world changes as well. We both changed into different people. Well in this case, the place changed
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completely as well. By the time I was 9, 109 was a zombie apocalypse to me. With, zombie like people. It used to be a place where you were able to be whoever you wanted to be. Where you had the freedom to be whoever you wanted to be. But now? It was all the fake. The people there, the stores there, everything was fake. They weren’t dressing crazy because they wanted to. It was because of trend or because they wanted to be fake. They wanted to dress so people like them. Not because they wanted the freedom, because they wanted people to let them into their groups. After it changed too much, it lost the whole purpose of being who I am. Now I am 13 rarely visiting the place that changed me. I still visit Shibuya, yes I do, but I stop by 109 maybe once or twice a year. I still love the place that shaped me, it is drilled into my memories with a bulldozer. I wouldn’t be me right now without it.
109 helped me become confident, not in just what I wore. It helped me be confident with myself. If my mother didn’t take me to 109 and I were to read a speech for student council in front of the whole school, I wouldn’t have been able to do it. I would’ve been too self-conscious, too scared of the way people would judge me when I read my speech. But my mother did take me to this place. And I did read a speech for student council in front of my whole school. And I wasn’t self-conscious. I was confident. And because I was confident, it helped me get the spot in student council. I will always remember the place that changed me. I will always be that girl with the pink dress and pigtails, that has ambition in her eyes. I will always remember how 109 taught me to ignore the people who hated the way I was. And I will always be the one, the girl that realised who she really was.
After it changed too much, it lost the whole purpose of being who I am.
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Korea A Place Essay By REENA
Like so many stories, this one begins with a fragmented memory. In particular, a standard, yellow school bus parked on the eroding curb of a typical Korean apartment. Through the bustle of angry businessmen and sullen workers, there was the conspicuous, yellow bus that all eyes turned to. It was uncommon for any type of school bus to arrive in a district filled with mostly drab adults and sad companies, but the bus was obviously still there. Slowly, the sooty doors of this transportational vehicle creaked open. A friendly wave from the old bus driver with wrinkles worn down from years of frowning. A sudden hiss as the actuator closed, and all attempts of escape were terminated. A sudden silence spread instantaneously like a contagious calamity. The five year old girl viewed this new world with wide eyes, trying her best not to wet herself in the process. With this perspective, the little bumps of the rocky road were transformed to near-death situations of laceration. The overused curtains dangling from the rooftop were imagined as extreme hazards of suffocation. The opened windows were vividly altered as situations of unavoidable decapitation. The little girl with a limited-Pucca-edition lunchbox in her right hand, and an unwrapped ricecake in the other slowly realized the cute but deceiving school bus as a conveyance to a common and notorious enemy for all five year olds . . . preschool. Traversing down the aisle of leftover micturition, and dried grains of rice, the soon-to-be preschooler established her spot in the farthest seat of the bus. With no seatbelt, trembling little hands clutched the bottom of the already decaying piece of leather. Praying for dear life, the girl kept her stinging tears at bay, and kept the ever-so little sense of composure. Distracted by the overwhelming sense of possible death, the little girl did not notice an equally nervous girl trapped in her own world of catastrophe and cataclysm, sitting beside her. That girl was a novel teacher, who’ve imagined all the possible ways for any mishaps and accidents on her first day of school. Slowly, but surely, both females noticed each other’s presence, and felt a tiny bond that connected both of them with their similar worries of trepidation. One girl, who was twenty-eight, and
The overused curtains dangling from the rooftop were imagined as extreme hazards of suffocation. 17
another, who was five and a half, had a strong and unspoken attachment due to their identical worries and frights. With one word, the little girl had broken the clawing silence. Hi. The deathly ideas of injury, were just speed-bumps. The vision of people gasping for air, were replaced with regular curtains. And the very thought of headless bodies, were transfigured to just windows. All their worries evaporated, the realization hit them both, as they slowly turned around to each other with relief. With a sense of friendship, the little girl offered half her rice-cake to the young adult. Right there, it was a form of inseparable and unforgettable alliance. Hand in hand, the young and the old enjoyed the rest of the ride to preschool.
Shenzhen A Place Essay By COCO
Shenzhen, my home, is known chiefly for fake cell phones. Not for anything cool, like being the place where some famous person was born. The only reason that Shenzhen even is a city is because Deng Xiaoping designated it to be a major shipping port. Not the most inspirational founding story, huh? Not like the story of Jamestown. I mean, those colonists had a 400 year history and had fought their way to a bright future, and Shenzhen isn’t even fifty years old. But that’s why I love it so much. I enjoy nature and the outdoors, but I am a city dweller. I love the energy of this migrant city. The diversity. Subway rides sprinkled with unusual people. That one time when a lady smuggled in a rabbit in a canvas bag on board. It’s taught me to accept differences; if you see a bald Buddhist monk in his clay-yellow robes and rosaries staring intently at the screen of Shenzhen’s chief product, you don’t ask. Although, like everything, it has its imperfections. You might consider them to be tragedies. Litter in the streets that will soon end up in oceans. Human trafficking. The city council spending too much money on changing the flowers in the boxes on the sidewalk every month(believe me – geraniums, petunias, pansies, I’ve seen it all) than on education so that public school students have to literally fight to get into a primary school, middle school, high school, college, and even kindergarten. The governor pretends
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Shenzhen isn’t even fifty years old. But that’s why I love it so much.
to care about our wildlife. Once, they decided to make a park out of a piece of unused land near the bay, allegedly to beautify the city and make a home for wildlife. It wasn’t unused. The area contained a mini-lake that was home to many migratory shorebirds during the winter. Please stop a moment and consider the irony of building a home for wildlife that destroys a home for wildlife. With permission from the head workman, Mom and I had joined some birdwatching friends to visit the site. It was already partly parklike. Inside, Mom talked to the head about his project. The guy said something along the lines of “Well, the government sure is doing a great job of protecting the environment, making this into a park instead of real estate.” You know what would have really protected our environment? Leaving the area the hell alone. A sad fact about being Chinese is that there is not much you can do about what the government does. A sad fact about being a Shenzhen citizen is that you know that your city’s problems are huge, but that those problems are China’s problems diluted ten times.
When there’s nothing you can do about what the government is doing, then you just as well might sit back and observe their pigheadedness. When Shenzhen hosted the 2011 Olympiade, they went crazy giving the city a makeover. If they had used that money for education and environmental protection, well….Anyways. One of the things that they did in the preparation stage was that they hired workers to tear down some vines covering a bridge. Then, a week before the Olympiad, I saw the bridge decked in fake vines that looked the same. In case you’re wondering, the fake ivy was torn down immediately afterwards and the old vines took their place. Mom had always called Deng Xiao Ping a great man for making Shenzhen what it is today. But now, I think that having someone else do the work for us does not only make a boring founding myth, it may have undermined our sense of purpose. The governor can’t just ignore Shenzhen’s problems. True, Shenzhen is still a very young city, but that does not mean that we have a right to fiddle while Rome burns.
Scared A Sugar Response
By LEO
Dear Scared of the Future, I had always wanted to travel around the globe, visit exotic sites, enjoy different styles of food and experience the beautiful cultures in different countries and societies. I wished I could climb the Great Wall of China, ride up the Andes Mountains in a helicopter, swim in the Pacific Ocean and fool around with penguins in the South Pole. I wanted to do all those things, but I still didn’t, fearing the risks that would come with these adventures. Instead, I went nowhere, staying inside the house, browsing the net about famous tourist hotspots and envying my neighbors who did travel to those places. Now, I couldn’t go anywhere even if I wanted to.
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An accident occurred when I was in my 30s. A car crash paralyzed my left arm and my right leg. I couldn’t even freely get to the restroom, not to mention bearing a trek along the Great Wall. All my wishes can never be turned to reality, unless you could find Avalon (impossible), or the Holy Grail (also impossible). I regret my choice of not going to travel; I regret my thought on the possible risks; I regret having the risk-calculating-me dampen the adventure-loving-me. But there’s no use complaining and regretting now, and there’s no going back. This is also my word of advice to you, my dear. Live your life as if cancer doesn’t exist. Your feeling is very natural, for we don’t want to be a sadness-producer to anyone, especially to those we love. Still though, follow your heart. As you said, it’s only a possibility after all. Imagine you are just a normal person. Do what you are supposed to do, enjoy your life, have children, get married and spend time with your spouse and cherish every moment. After all, you only live once. Be happy, rather than regret your choice later. Sweetheart, do you really want to live in the fear of “supposed” cancer every day, cowering under the “supposed” shadow of death and watch your beautiful life wither away, back to the dust and earth where it came from? You are only 29, enjoy the life of which came so preciously. Forget cancer so you won’t regret about all the things and wishes you didn’t accomplish when you are old and frail. Even if you really were diagnosed with cancer (which I hope never happens), do you really want to spend the rest of your days that you should cherish hiding in the dark folds of self-pity, crying and regretting? Of course not. Have your days be filled with terrific happiness and joy. Get married, accomplish these dear dreams and wishes. Love your enjoyable moments and memories with you and your man so you could die knowing that your life was worth it instead of only having sorrowful scenes of rue, regret and tears. Don’t make my mistakes, and believe in life, believe in yourself and believe in happiness. If that’s not enough, believe in the happy times you spent with your spouse and believe in those joyful memories that connects you two together and binds your hearts with each other. You only live once, and we all will die. Feel the beauty of your blossoming life, feel the happiness, even if for the last time, dear one. Sincerely, Leo Li
I regret my choice of not going to travel; I regret my thought on the possible risks; I regret having the risk-calculating-me dampen the adventure-loving-me. 20
The Forbidden Door A Sugar Response By AUDREY
Dear Undecided, When I was 18 years old, the time where every young adult began pondering their unclear future. The questions of what college? What university? And what future profession? Rang in and out of the high school hallways. Especially the last one: What profession? I lived with a family of biologists and engineers. There are no artists, writers, and musicians. Father poured sweat and shed blood with his colleagues to build his company brick by brick. Mother spends time and effort with her university friends computer coding day by day. And I, the only child of my family, the sole heir of my family who is expected to follow my father’s footsteps and inherit great fortune, kind of wished for a life as a writer, something I was not specifically made for. When the day of adulthood came, I was forced to relieve this disastrous problem, this mind wrecking dilemma. There was no place to hide and no more reasons to avoid. I already knew I was molded to be my father. The extra attention reserved for the sciences and the maths, the extra tutoring, the tours around dad’s company and father’s love was all meant to push me to open the “right” door with a golden knob, to the path where I was most guaranteed to not fall and make a total fool out of myself. It was the path where I would have a prosperous job, a nice husband, healthy children, a content life and sweet love. But it wasn’t the only path I wanted, and I suddenly wanted a sister or brother or whoever who could be in my place to fill up my father’s dream and keep daddy and mommy happy and proud, while having my back even if I fail at being a writer, I will still be able to live a comfortable life, but- but it will never happen, because sisters do not appear out of thin air. And with that horrible realization that the walls are closing in on me, I did the only thing I could think of: shutting myself in my closet. Now, Undecided, you already know what choice I made in the end, right? Since I am not some entrepreneur/ scientist, but an advice column writer. But I still have an amazing family, enjoyable life, and loyal friends. I’m still happy. I don’t know if I’ll be happier being a scientist, but I am happy here and now.
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I realized that easy isn’t right . . . Right was jumping without looking back, because regretting is not going to help you and it never does.
But honey, let’s rewind the story, because I didn’t get the courage from myself. I got it from my friend. I remember it like it happened yesterday, how she brushed her hair from her face and whispered, “Maybe you weren’t meant to be. Maybe you were really meant to be selfish. Maybe you were meant to be a writer.” Then she smiled, and that smile was the most carefree smile I had ever seen, the type that shined with the power of a thousand suns. And then I realized why. She chose to be a painter that could end up dirt poor rather than becoming a rich politician. She didn’t open the “right door”; she constructed another door with scrap wood and metal to make another pathway possible. And the words, “Are you happy?” accidentally leaked from my mouth. She tossed her hair back and laughed. That laughter was so melodious that it made the wind laugh along with her. “I don’t know if I am happy but I sure am free.” It was at that moment I realized that easy wasn’t right. Right was following your instincts; right was jumping without looking back, because regretting is not going to help you and it never does, The real right was the rusty barricaded iron door with spikes on its knob, not the door with the polished white paint and elegant gold swirls. But this is not the most important. We all make sacrifices every day. We make sacrifices. We make sacrifices when we eat the cake and then leave no room for ice cream. We make sacrifices when we study hard and get 100s but then lose valuable time with friends. We make sacrifices when we sell out the car to buy a new house. And you are making a sacrifice, honey, when you decide that you want a baby, the living proof of family love. The point is, and I’ll be blunt, honey, is just try it. Do it and see it and feel it. You are either going to stay in that indecisive state and wallow in regret when you think of the things you might have missed or you can just do it and see what you have gained. I’m not going to lie. You will sacrifice your old life,
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because having that child will open the door in front of you and then close the door behind. You will have your fund depleted, and your time sucked away. You will have to spend the nights with the ear-splitting cry of a baby and spend the day with your tired body changing the diapers. You will be frustrated when your child slacks on their grades and angry when they cross the road without adult supervision. You will worry about balancing time for work and time for family. You will want to scream when your child turns into a rebellious teenager and then later on, a stubborn adult. But then again, your sun will rise and your world will glow when your daughter or son smiles with red flushed cheeks and heavenly laughter. Your life will shine when you pull out a bedtime story and your child claps their hands in absolute delight. Your wife will have her eyes sparkle with the pride of being a mother and you will stay happy, even though you closed the door of the past. I know you are anxious and nervous about this situation. I know this because I used to stand in your shoes at the crossroads. All of my life revolves around making decisions: “What college and profession? Marriage? Kids?” so I know that is okay to stress and normal to worry. I know that you fear change, sacrifice, and regret. But if you are already making sacrifices every day, when you decide to have a clean car instead of watching your favorite TV show, just move forward, because when a door closes another door opens. Don’t be afraid. Don’t be afraid of losing the “free time, spontaneous travel, pockets of non-obligation”. Don’t be afraid to “miss my old life”. Think of the “wonderful cats” you raised to be “trusting loving creatures.” Think of that and don’t be afraid to regret losing the old things, because on the other side of the coin, you will regret the things you lose not making that choice. So remember me. Remember me and my friend who wanted something and decided to take it even though we knew our lives will rapidly change. Remember me when I took the rocky trail instead of the well paved road even when it felt like I was turning my back to my family. Remember me, even when I sacrificed my ice cream for a few bites of cake. So remember me, when I embrace the change. Change isn’t danger. Change is what makes a human really human and makes a human live an abundant life. So don’t go for the easy golden “right” door. Open the barricaded forbidden door that is right. Yours, Sugar
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