ESCAPE THE EMPATHY ILLUSION

Elise Siegmund // sophomore

pen, watercolor, & free-verse poem

Salai Diekumpuna // senior letter

Dear Dad,

Please read this to your two-year-old daughter because I don’t know if she can read, I forgot how children develop.

Hi Salai (aged two),

You’re just starting to develop memories. So before the first one settles in, before you see a burst of white sunlight shine through your window, before your dad wakes you to carry you downstairs for breakfast. Before you hear a plate shatter and its tiny pieces quiver on the floor creating the prettiest arrangement of music ever, let me share some of my wisdom. Please try your hardest to focus on that pretty music, I’m going to tell you some of the things you will learn. Hopefully, I can save your pretty little head a headache or two.

I want to let you know that sometimes things don’t work out. Soon your parents will teach you that. You’ll learn very soon that it is hard to watch people come into your life and leave as you grow up. You’ll wonder why certain people aren’t in your life anymore and you’ll miss the people you once called friends. And when you’re older, you find out that sometimes people just have to leave, just like princesses have to live in castles. Please know just because people will leave doesn’t mean you’ll miss them any less. And you’ll wonder about them even when you’re my age.

You will always wonder if life was kinder to them. Always keep that compassion and love that you have for people, but remember that some people just have to leave, just like you have to get out of bed each day. You are compassionate and caring, and in every joke you will tell and with every punch you will deliver, people will begin to realize that. Oh yeah, you’re a bit violent. As you get older try not to let your compassion for others be a secret.

In the future, your best friend, Nasya, will leave your hometown. You’ll miss her but don’t worry about y’all’s friendship. You two will always be best friends, but this time from a distance. Besides, some of the best relationships you will have are long-distance.

Salai, I know you’re just two right now but I want you to practice using your words. You don’t have to cry to express yourself, and one day your guardian angel will let you know that. Her name is Ayanna. She always stood up for you, but one day she’ll tell you that you need to use your words. You’ll meet her soon, but I don’t know if she’ll ever know the impact she had on you. She was your first best friend.

I want you to say, “I love you” more. You wouldn’t want anyone to walk out of your life unaware that you ever loved them again, even if they hurt you, so try to express your love when you feel it. It will always be worth it. When you are my age, 18, you will wonder if your feelings are genuine each time you say, “I love you” to someone. But try to say it anyway, because it might be worth it. You will wonder how someone who loves you can make you cry, and how those clear tears can rub off the lotion your mom’s coarse hands rubbed on your face. Those transparent streams will run down your face and dry on your smooth carob brown cheeks leaving streaks of white that reveal that you’ve been crying.

In your senior year of high school, quality time will be so important to you. It’s a great way to show the people in your life you love them. It’s your love language now because even when you will want to stay at home, you will make the trip up to Atlanta with your mom lots of weekends. And you traveled to the hospital just to cheer on your grandfather, Koko the Man. You even helped change his bag of external bowel fluid because it was quality time that you couldn’t spend with him while he lived in Africa.

Cherish him, Salai; he loves us. He’s okay, though. He just went to the hospital for a check-up, and they gave him a golden crown to make him feel better. It’s incredibly bright and it looks like a ring that floats on his head. They call him an angel and the doctors will love when you visit because Koko the Man will walk farther when you will visit him. When you’re my age, you’ll learn that not all angels have wings.

But most importantly, you will learn to make your own mistakes the more people come into and leave your life. You will learn that you can’t control everything, especially who stays in your life and for how long. I wanted to let you know all of the truths you will learn in the future so that it’ll become easier to endure the stress of being a child, or maybe prevent some of it. I wish you all the best, you little princess. I love you and I will always love you. I hope you have a good breakfast.

Sincerely, You from the future ceramic

Isabella Harvey // junior