The Lowell Newsmagazine May 2023

ONLINE EXCLUSIVES

The overlooked art of Western animation

By Charon Kong

Finding confidence through dance

By Ramona Jacobson

2023SpringShowcase

By Kylie Chau and Kahlo Friel-Asay

KAHLO FRIEL-ASAY

JOEY HE

DARIXA VARELA-MEDRANO

Editors-in-Chief

Chloe Chon

Kelcie Lee

Marlena Rohde

News Editors

Angela Chen

Kelcie Lee

Opinions Editor

Chloe Chon

Columns Editors

Aaliyah Español-Rivas

Dylan Twyman

Sports Editor

Roman Fong

Multimedia Editors

Libby Bowie

Marlena Rohde

Yeshi-Wangmu Sherpa

Art Managers

Darixa Varela Medrano

Elise Muchowski

Photographers

Kahlo Friel-Asay

Samir Azmi

Malena Cardona

Kylie Chau

Katharine Kasperski

Lauren Kim

Ava Rosoff

Business Managers

Yi Luo

Adrienne Nguyen

Primo Pelczynski

Researchers

Saw Nwe

Maren Brooks

Anita Luo

Reporters

Ahmed Afenzal

Charlotte Ackerman

Isadore Diamond

Parker Dion

Clarabelle Fields

Thomas Harrison

Tatum Himelstein

Ramona Jacobson

Alisa Kozmin

Brooke Laur

Maya Law

Stephanie Li

Kai Lyddan

Niyati Mandhani

Alina Mei

Hayden Miller

Indigo Morgenstern

Marshall Muscat

Victoria Pan

Laura Reyes

Aafiya Shaikh

Mehreen Shaikh

Sierra Sun

Sia Terplan

Connor Walsh

Ben Will

Illustrators

Joey He

Charon Kong

Katey Lau

Hugh Macdonald

Danica Yee

Emily Yee

Yue Yi Peng

Social Media Managers

Juliane Dabi

Erin Guo

Gianna Ou

Aaliyah Español-Rivas

Miyabi Yoshida

Advisor

Eric Gustafson

THE BATHROOM BREAKDOWN:

Lowell needs clean and functional restrooms

It’s a daily occurrence for Lowell students to go to the restroom only to find the stalls locked, covered with caution tape, and displaying “Out of Order” signs. But it shouldn’t be this way. California Education Code § 35292.5 states, “Every restroom shall at all times be maintained and cleaned regularly, fully operational and stocked at all times with toilet paper, soap, and paper towels or functional hand dryers.” Lowell must address the restroom conditions to ensure all students have access to a clean and functional restroom.

An alarming issue is the sheer number of restrooms that are out of service. On May 4, The Lowell conducted a survey of every student restroom and found that 10 of Lowell’s 75 student toilets (and two urinals) were completely out of order due to plumbing issues. That’s more than 13 percent. A Lowell custodian, who requested to remain anonymous, reported several defective stalls and urinals to SFUSD’s central maintenance several weeks ago and has yet to receive a response. Many restrooms also have dysfunctional features, including broken hand dryers, stall locks, and sinks. While these problems may seem minor, they often add up to render the restrooms unusable. Due to these broken utilities, finding a functional restroom can be challenging. Why the delays on repairs? According to assistant principal Jandro Alcantar, the district only has three to four plumbers for all school sites.

Additionally, the restrooms are generally unclean, which seems to have worsened recently. Walk into any bathroom, and you’re almost certain to see trash strewn on the floor and clogged sink drains. Seats that weren’t raised are covered in urine, making the toilets unusable. The second-floor girls’ re-

stroom has an ant infestation that makes it unpleasant to use. What accounts for this lack of cleanliness? According to Alcantar, Lowell currently lacks sufficient janitorial staffing, with only two custodians on-site during the school day. However, he also stressed the important role students play in keeping the restrooms clean, asking them to “treat these restrooms as if they were at our homes.”

Behavior such as tagging and drug use also plagues Lowell’s restrooms. Many students are familiar with the smell of weed and vape smoke that collects in the gender-neutral restrooms. This causes many students to avoid these restrooms altogether. These issues result in students choosing to avoid certain restrooms because of their smell, lack of cleanliness, or because they are simply too broken to use. Given the size of Lowell’s campus, avoiding the nearest restroom because of these issues and heading to one further away can result in tardiness or missing an extended period of class time, upsetting teachers and harming students’ educations. This is especially true for students who rely on gender-neutral restrooms, where the problem of drug use and vaping is most acute.

Lowell needs to fix its restrooms because they are a basic necessity. Students have a right to clean and functional restrooms. There needs to be an easier way for students to report broken locks, empty paper towel dispensers, and maintenance issues in the restrooms. The district also needs to fix the ongoing plumbing issues that put toilets out of order for weeks or even months at a time. But students also have a part to play. They need to respect the facilities, their fellow classmates, and our custodians, who are ultimately left to deal with these messes.

The Lowell is published by the journalism classes of Lowell High School. All contents copyright Lowell High School journalism classes. All rights reserved. The Lowell strives to inform the public and to use its opinion sections as open forums for debate. All unsigned editorials are opinions of the staff. The Lowell welcomes comments on school-related issues from students, faculty and community members. Send letters to the editors to thelowellnews@gmail.com. Names will be withheld upon request. We reserve the right to edit letters before publication.

The Lowell is a student-run publication distributed to thousands of readers including students, parents, teachers, and alumni. All advertisement profits fund our newsmagazine issues. To advertise online or in print, email thelowellmanagement@gmail.com. Contact us: Lowell High School 1101 Eucalyptus Drive San Francisco, CA 94132, 415-759-2730, or at thelowellnews@gmail.com.

Lowell needs to fix its restrooms because they are a basic necessity. Students have a right to clean, safe, and functional restrooms.

THE DIRTY STRUGGLE

BY YUE YI PENG

From the editor

Dear readers of The Lowell,

With our last issue of the year being published, we can’t help but think about the past and future of our publication: everything we’ve accomplished this past year, along with all the experiences that we’ve shared, and what the next chapter of The Lowell will look like.

In April, the staff of The Lowell had the opportunity to attend a field trip to the San Francisco Chronicle and hear from reporters, photographers, and illustrators. We had a great time learning and gaining inspiration from these role models. Hearing about their career journeys gave us a better picture of what our futures could look like, whether that be through joining our college newspaper, writing for different publications, or even majoring in journalism.

Looking to the future has left many of us thinking about college, majors, and what our next four years will look like. In our cover story, “Paycheck or passion?,” we explore the pressures Lowell students face when deciding their career paths. For many, this means pursuing a financially stable major, even when that means sacrificing their passions.

For us, leaving for college means leaving a fundamental part of high school: working on this publication. The thought of moving on from The Lowell has always existed in the back of our minds, but now that the time is here, it’s absolutely surreal. Working on this publication has been a full-time job, both physically and mentally. It’s entailed working tirelessly to meet with community members, organizing magazine issues, and hitting deadlines. We created six issues this year, and it’s hard to say goodbye to all the reporting and documenting we’ve added to Lowell’s history, as well as the community we’ve built.

In the last two months, we have been training our assistant editors, which has left us thinking about how our publication continues to grow. Every year, we continue to develop new ideas, produce print issues, and improve our management systems. All of our content would not be possible without our overwhelming love for what we do. We leave this publication knowing, and assuring you, that our assistant editors are dedicated and love what they do just as much as we do, and will continue to deliver both creative and quality content.

It is the end of a chapter for us, but once again a start of a new one for The Lowell. Thank you to all our readers and supporters, including the Lowell Alumni Association. We hope you enjoy the last issue of this school year.

Goodbye, Editors-in-Chief, Chloe Chon, Kelcie Lee, and Marlena Rohde

PAYCHECK OR PASSION?

Lowellites are torn between going to college for a well-paying job or studying what they’re interested in.

By Indigo Morgenstern and Marshall Muscat

Junior Nikolas Tom leaves a meeting with his godfather feeling crushed. He just promised to take the steps to get a marketing degree at a four-year university, abandoning any dreams he had of pursuing an English major. He doesn’t know which is the right choice: follow his dreams and disappoint his family, or pursue a more financially practical field of study and disappoint himself?

This is a question that plagues many Lowellites.

As the cost of living grows, many students feel the urgency to obtain a college degree that will help them attain economic stability. This pressure often overrides genuine interest when choosing an area of study. Students

the STEM field have a mean salary of $100,900 annually, whereas jobs in arts and design average $65,180 annually, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics’ May 2022 report.

Money is a common worry for prospective students. According to the survey conducted by The Lowell of 270 students, 69 percent of respondents listed “money” as a motivation for pursuing their chosen field of study. Some students do not feel like there is value in majoring in something that does not have an obvious financial upside. “I think the time and energy it takes to get [a degree] isn’t worth it if it doesn’t help me get a better job,” one survey respondent said. In the words of another respondent, “You need the moolah to survive!” Skyla Frauenheim, a senior that is committed to studying art, is concerned about the financial implications of not pursuing something more profitable, such as STEM, in college. “There’s always the anxiety like I should probably get a minor in something that could earn me money,” Frauenheim said. “And that’s what my parents have said too.”

for marine biology, but she plans to major in biotechnology because she expects it will earn her more money. She said part of her worry stems from the high cost of living in San Francisco. “I 100 percent would have chosen marine

wonder whether they should pursue what they love, or choose a major that will help them make money.

College education, as well as the type of degree obtained, correlates with a significant difference in earnings. According to the US Department of Education, the median earnings of those with a bachelor’s degree were 63 percent higher than the earnings of those who completed high school in 2020. And as expected from a proclaimed college preparatory school, 96 percent of surveyed Lowellites planned to attend college. But not all majors are created equal. A disparity in income exists between college majors and the careers that result from them. Jobs in

Even students going into a STEM major may feel the pressure to choose a lucrative career over one that they would prefer, especially for those who plan on remaining in the Bay Area. Sophomore Jessica Tam has a passion

biology over anything else,” Tam said. “But I’m planning to stay in the Bay Area and I do have to plan. How am I going to support myself?” She also wants a secure job so she can concentrate on improving people’s lives. “How am I gonna be able to help other people and do my job knowing that I constantly have to worry about money? I don’t want that stress,” Tam said. “So I kind of had to make this decision.” A number of Lowell students are in a sim-

All data collected from a random sample of 270 students who responded to a survey conducted by The Lowell in April 2023

“I think the time and energy it takes to get [a degree] isn’t worth it if it doesn’t help me get a better job.”

ilar situation to Tam. According to the survey, 41 percent of students said that they would choose a different major if money was not an option.

For students such as Tom, family pressure to earn a lot of money is the major deciding factor. Tom’s mother, an immigrant from Taiwan, didn’t have the opportunity to choose the job of her dreams. Because of her circumstances, she had no other choice but to get the highest-paying job she could find to raise a family. “I feel like

she’s locked me in the same survival mindset,” Tom said. He believes that she would disapprove of him becoming a writer or artist because she’s still focused on making enough money to survive. “I feel pressured by what it means to do what I would want to do in the context of my family and my race.”

Tom’s godfather, who works as a college counselor, has also pushed him to discard any ideas of studying English in college. He thinks Tom should study marketing so he can get a well-paying job after college. Although Tom promised his godfather he would pursue marketing, he still feels conflicted. “Choosing what I wanna do for college, while it is my own decision at the end of the day, sometimes I feel like I’m just being pulled between multiple things at once,” Tom said. Despite his genuine interest in English and writing, the pressure of financial security has pushed Tom to move towards a realistic career. “I love art so much and I would love to never stop making it because it’s the one thing I’m really truly good at, but I have to choose somehow,” Tom said. “I feel like I’m starting to accept

more and more that I have to lean into practicality because it’s what’s gonna help me right now.”

Meanwhile, for those who choose to follow their passions, the stress of needing to support their family weighs on their conscience. Frauenheim, who wants to study visual art, is aware that it may be harder to support their family with a job as an artist. “My

Students wonder whether they should pursue what they love, or choose a major that will help them make money.

“How am I gonna be able to help other people and do my job knowing that I constantly have to worry about money? I don’t want that stress.”

parents do not have a big retirement fund,” Frauenheim said. “So they’re like, ‘You guys need to make at least enough money to support us a little bit.’ And I’m like, ‘That’s not happening

matter if they are miserable. “I think if people feel really strongly about computer science or whatever, that’s fine for them and that’s going to work. But I know there are a lot of people who are

coming a visual arts major, has unique educational value. One survey respondent said, “Humanities majors teach you more about being a person. People who take humanities classes and ma-

from me.’ So now I’m just putting that pressure on my brother.”

Despite the pressures on some Lowellites to study in profitable fields, others are set on following their passions, regardless of the financial sacrifice. For senior Ethan Holm, a film and photography major, there’s no question when it comes to money and family pressure. His film -

doing it because they just feel like they have to or they feel like it’s safe,” Holm said. “They’re gonna wake up in 40 years and be like, ‘What was the point of all of this?’” Students that have given up on what they want to do are aware of this. “I don’t want to go through adulthood completely miserable,” Tom said. “Because when you make choices like that and you regret it, you can’t reverse

Despite the importance of supporting oneself and one’s family, some students feel that studying the humanities, such as be-

jor in them may not be as wealthy as those who majored in STEM, went to medical or law school, but they are far more interesting and worthwhile people.” Holm sees this path as valuable in terms of personal satisfaction. “Everyone, in my opinion, needs some sort of creative outlet because I think when people are really dissatisfied with their job or whatever else, it’s because they feel like they can’t really think at all,” Holm said. “And a lot of people could avoid that by just having an outlet that they can feel creative and stimulated in.”

Worthwhile or not, the fact remains that STEM and law degrees tend

making money won’t

“Choosing what I wanna do for college, while it is my own decision at the end of the day, sometimes I feel like I’m just being pulled between multiple things at once.”

to have a higher return on investment. But this wouldn’t matter as much if college were less expensive. Tam, Tom, and Frauenheim all mentioned worries about the price of college. The average student who takes out federal loans owes $37,574 after completing college, which can haunt them for decades. Twenty years after entering school, half

of borrowers still owe $20,000, according to the Education Data Initiative. This results from a lack of state spending on higher education combined with a rising cost of living. This threat of debt looms over students’ decisions, as they have to make enough money to offset that debt after college. However, college doesn’t have to be such an enormous financial commitment. According to the Public Policy Institute of California, there are several ways to make college more affordable, including better information about financial aid and transfer pathways, and expanding aid to cover costs outside tuition, such as housing and materials. If college were more affordable, families would not see college costs as such a drastic burden, and students like Tam and Tom would have more choice of what to study.

Deciding on a college major weighs heavily on Lowellites. For many of them, the conflicting demands of gaining financial security and achieving personal satisfaction make the burden particularly hard to bear. Not everyone feels free to study what interests them,

and end up choosing a paycheck over their passion. Though Tom is trying to be optimistic about the more financially prudent path he has chosen, he remains conflicted about giving up on his desire to pursue an English degree. “It is kind of depressing to think about how I might have to completely throw it away for college,” Tom said.

“I think when people are really dissatisfied with their job or whatever else, it’s because they feel like they can’t really think at all.”

OVERDRESSED FOR THE OCCASION

Prom dresses where they don’t belong! As a final goodbye to our seniors, we recreated a prom experience in the last places you’d expect: Mel’s Diner and the Yerba Buena bowling alley. “Overdressed for the occasion” meshes fast food, the Fifties, formal attire, and flash photography for a fun-for-all photo essay!

Photos by Kahlo Friel-Asay and Lauren Kim

TURNING MUSIC on the

Finding oneself at Lowell is tough. Music helps.

The venue’s air is thick with sweat, vape smoke, and excitement as we all crowd eagerly around the front of the stage. Although I’ve been listening to Underscores for less than half a year, it feels as if my whole life has been leading up to this moment. And when Underscores jumps into view, the night instantly becomes the best one of my life. Hearing over a hundred other people scream along to the same songs I have depended on so desperately feels surreal in a way I have never felt before.

By Thomas Harrison

except for me, and without a sense of identity, my self esteem plummeted. When I discovered Underscores’ album “Fishmonger,” I was introduced to music scenes and communities that were unapologetic about themselves in ways I hadn’t seen before. Through the music I listened to and the people I met as a result, I was pushed to reevaluate what the word identity meant to me.

After returning to in-person learning after over a year of staring at identical blank Zoom profiles, the amount of character growth everyone seemed to have had was startling to me. Now, the people around me all had their hobbies, their talents, and their personalities — their gimmicks, if you will — but I felt like I had nothing. I felt like a shell of a person, and the stress of transferring to Lowell as a freshman after a semester at Wallenberg just dropped my self-esteem lower. The inability to keep up with the classes my peers deemed easy made my already fragile sense of self-worth plummet, further alienating me from my classmates. My months at Lowell were beginning to blend together, and it was becoming harder and harder to look forward to the next day.

But when I turned my music on, everything seemed to be okay, at least for a little bit. The songs blasting through my phone pushed the questions out of my brain, the familiar sounds bringing me comfort in an environment I didn’t feel at home in. And when my self-esteem dropped, the songs I listened to were there for me, something that even I, a complete

For the first time in a long time, I feel like myself. Throughout my first semester at Lowell, the question of who I was was constantly stuck in the back of my mind, taunting me and weighing down on me like nothing else ever had. Everyone I saw seemed to know exactly who they were

mess of a person, could find solace in. Soon, pieces of my own identity started to show, weaved in between someone else’s lyrics, a secret shared only between me and my headphones. It was a place to grow, free of my own judgment. Music had always been important to me, but one newly discovered album in particular, “Fishmonger” by Underscores, spoke to me in a way that none other had before. Although other albums had been significant to me, this album was the first to become truly intertwined with my own life,

If these people were so happy in their own skin without fitting into one of the molds I had so closely linked with identity, then maybe I was thinking about identity entirely wrong.

PHOTOS BY MARLENA ROHDE

pulling me into new communities and redefining what identity meant to me. I was instantly hooked on its unique sound the moment I stumbled across it on Spotify. Every second of it exuded style, from the pitched-up angst of the faster songs to the soft nostalgia of the slower ones. But above everything, it was different; not in a gimmicky way or a “cool” way, but in a way that caused most people to turn up their noses the second the first song began to play. Underscores felt authentic in a way that I had never experienced before, like the artist was unapologetically showing her whole self to the world, regardless of whatever judgment would come her way. This strong sense of identity in the music called out to me, and soon, the album had become an essential part of my life.

And from Underscores, I discovered similar artists that also didn’t care about scaring away most of their potential listeners. The communities for these artists were some of the most accepting I’ve seen, built upon the same unapologetic sense of identity that the albums shared. Talking to other Underscores fans who were so confident in their own nonconformist selves, even if just through a screen, felt refreshing and inspirational. These people weren’t defined by a few flashy traits like the people I envied at Lowell that first semester, yet through their authenticity, the community members managed to have more of an identity than any of them. That authenticity was something that stuck with me. If these people were so happy in their own skin without fitting into one of the molds I had so closely linked with identity, then maybe I was thinking about identity entirely wrong.

My obsession with Underscores led to it becoming the first of many concerts I attended during my freshman year. At school, my lack of identity made me feel invisible, a blank speck in a sea of vivid and colorful people. But within the walls of a concert venue, that invisibility was a blessing. If nobody was going to remember me after I left the doors of the building, I was free to step out of my comfort zone with no real consequence. Every time an opener began to play, any insecurities I had about my lack of identity faded away. There, it didn’t matter what hobbies I had, or what kind of a per-

son I was. All that mattered was the music blaring in front of me and my ability to stand my ground in the mosh pit. And though these people were strangers, the music provided a connection that made talking come easily. Soon, a good chunk of my friends were people I met at concerts. Making friends so dramatically different from the people at school was a breath of fresh air, and it helped bridge the gap between the online communities that inspired me and my real life. The experimental and unapologetic nature of the music that caused us to meet let me know that I was in an environment where I was free to explore who I was in ways that would be embarrassing elsewhere. I felt like I was meeting people that I could try to be myself around, even if I didn’t really know what that meant yet.

Months later, after school had been let out and summer had set in, I laid on the couch at 2 a.m. relistening to “Fishmonger” for what must have been the thousandth time. And when my mind inevitably began to wander back to that question of who I was, it didn’t hold the same crushing weight it had months prior. Before I discovered albums like “Fishmonger,” I had thought of identity as a recognizable and easily discernible thing, usually based on a key trait or a gimmick, a one-sentence description of someone that set them apart from others. But every song, every lyric, and every person I had interacted with from the communities I found had shown a sense of authenticity and individualism that went so much deeper than a single trait. There were things that stood out about them, of course, but their identity was determined not by those fragments, but by the sum of every part of them. I had thought that because people couldn’t describe me in a single sentence, that I didn’t have an identity, when in reality my identity is the product of every single thing I’ve said and done since the day I was born. I still have a lot to learn about myself, but I’m not a blank slate anymore, and the sense of unapologetic individualism woven between every lyric I listen to pushes me to explore parts of me that I’ve never really thought about. Now, with the music I’ve come to love lingering in my ears, thinking about my future no longer fills me with dread. Instead, it fills me with excitement.

The sense of unapologetic individualism woven between every lyric I listen to pushes me to explore parts of me that I’ve never really thought about.

Translating under pressure

By Ramona Jacobson and Sierra Sun

Ten minutes of silence pass.

Freshman Avery Kim sits beside her mother while rereading, for the third time, the medical document that a nurse handed to her. Trying to dissect each English term into its accurate Korean translation, she inhales the sterile hospital air, attempting to sort through her jumbled thoughts. Finally, Kim turns to her oblivious mother, explaining in a mumbled Korean about the chemotherapy treatment that her mother, who was recently diagnosed with cancer, would have to undergo. Since she can remember, Kim has been a personal translator for her Korean-speaking mother through each conversation or document bestowed upon them. When it came time to translate complex vocabulary, especially medical terms, the pressure rose as she attempted to communicate between languages.

Despite the frustration they feel, they commit themselves to language brokering as a way to help their parents communicate.

Language brokering — the informal act of interpreting and translating between family members and dominant language users — is an overlooked but prevalent occurrence among children of immigrants. According to the US Census Bureau, of the 18 million children living within immigrant families in the U.S., 21 percent live in linguistically isolated households. These are homes where no one aged 16 or older speaks English exclusively or fluently. This dependence on immigrant children to be language brokers creates a dynamic in which young people like Kim have to take on a large amount of responsibility.

Kim is just one of the many multilingual students at Lowell who have faced adversities when translating between English and their parents’ native languages.

A substantial portion of Lowell’s student body is composed of teenagers from immigrant families. According to the Public Policy Institute of California, San Francisco is one of the largest sanctuary cities for immigrants. Due to their quicker acculturation to American customs and the English language, immigrant parents tend to rely heavily on their children for translations to their native tongue. As a result, these student translators face the pressures of succeeding academically while also assisting their parents. Their increased workload and involvement in school activities prompts these Lowell students to feel burdened by this translator role.

Often, young people in this position feel overwhelmed with the responsibility of needing to help their parents at all times. As early as elementary school, they feel burdened with the role of translating face to face conversations or English passages to their immigrant parents. According to human development researcher at the University of Texas at Austin, Su Yeung Kim, “Translation tasks could potentially create stress for immigrant when they lack certain vo cabulary (e.g., medical or legal documents).”

As a result of being unable to thor oughly translate le gal documents or even medical treat ment instructions, feelings of guilt commonly emerge among young lan guage brokers. At six years old, junior Emer son Bonilla emigrated with his mother from El Salvador to Ameri ca. According to Bonilla, translating legal documents and conversations into Spanish, while still trying to learn English himself, posed a troublesome transition process. “[My mom and step-father] put a lot of stress

on me. They’d be asking me to read something for them and sometimes I wouldn’t be able to,” Bonilla said. “I felt like I was failing them in a way.” Similarly, Kim recalls facing complications when translating medical instructions such as the settings of an insulin pump for her diabetes or emails regarding her mother’s chemotherapy treatment. With no one to assist them at times, Bonilla and Kim, who are their family’s only children, have felt trapped in a cycle of helplessness.

As these full-time students tend to their academic workload and extracurricular activities, the added role as a personal translator takes a toll on their ability to balance each responsibility. Jessica Rong, a senior and first-generation child of Chinese immigrants, recalled experiencing the stress created by attempting to keep up with her schoolwork and meet her parents’ demands. “It does get a little frustrat-

“They’d be asking me to read something for them and sometimes I wouldn’t be able to.

I felt like I was failing them in a way.”

ing when I’m doing my homework, and suddenly they have a complicated, 66page letter that I have to translate,” Rong said. Kim agrees, believing the language barrier also interferes with her participation in school activities. As she participates in Lowell’s choir group, Kim is forced to translate more documents such as the many permission slips required for when they travel.

Despite the stress and emotional strain that they endure, these multilingual students view language brokering as a necessary act, as well as a means of repaying their parents for their sacrifices. By recognizing the challenges that immigrants face, these students hope to ease their parents’ burden. “I know that it’s hard for them because they went through so much — immigrating here and not being able to speak the language,” Rong said. “I’m paying them back for all the sacrifices they made for me.” Similarly, Bonilla acknowledges his parents’ hardships and is committed to assisting them. “In the long term, I feel like I have to be successful, so they won’t have to worry or sacrifice more than what they already have,” he said.

Many of these students appreciate their role in bridging linguistic and cultural barriers. Bonilla feels that bilingualism enables him to better relate to both the American and Latinx cultures. “When it comes to being bilingual, I’m able to connect two communities into one,” he said. “I’m able to connect a lot of blank spaces.” Understanding multiple languages has allowed language brokers to connect with people from many backgrounds, preserving cultural identity while bridging the gap between worlds, according to Bonilla. These students also appreciate the varying benefits that come with being bilingual. Sophomore Yameen Shaikh, who translates between English and Hindi for his parents, notes that his linguistic abilities have helped him feel grounded through aiding others. “It gave me the opportunity to help others that don’t know English,” Shaikh said. “It was a privilege for me because it’s easier for some of us who speak and write.” Students also believe that their bilingual abilities have enhanced their

English skills. “I feel more confident and comfortable speaking English than ever since I have that practice of helping somebody else, such as my parents, with English,” he said. This constant practice of balancing languages improves younger peoples’ executive functions and control mechanisms, according to the National Library of Medicine, while the Dana Foundation argues that bilingualism strengthens cognitive abilities like memory, creativity, and visual-spatial skills.

The positive impacts of language brokering on teenage students are numerous, but its adverse effects require more attention. According to public opinion surveys and the Public Policy Institute of California, 73 percent of California residents are willing

to pay to provide extra assistance to immigrant children by improving the academic performance of English language learners. One possibility, suggested by Shaikh, is the establishment of a city infrastructure program to better support English language learners of all ages. “The city could invest in a development center in which immigrants have a space to go and gain access to assistance with documents,” Shaikh said. “The assistants should know the immigrants’ languages, so it’s easier for them to communicate.” This government aid could extend to adult immigrants as well, reducing the responsibilities of immigrant children by providing translation services for parents who are in the process of learning English.

Language brokering affects Lowell students in both beneficial and detrimental ways. Multilingualism has many cognitive and cultural benefits, but the pressure of language brokering can feel stressful and overwhelming. Regardless of the issues many student translators face, they are committed to helping their parents feel comfortable and confident in their lives. Through translating and assisting, these language brokers hope to express their gratitude for their parents who overcame challenges when creating a home in a new country. “They’ve sacrificed so much,” Bonilla said. “I have to be the one that helps them get up, you know?”

“I know that it’s hard for them because they went through so much — immigrating here and not being able to speak the language. I’m paying them back for all the sacrifices they made for me.”

Cantonese should be taught at Lowell

By Charon Kong

PHOTO BY KATHARINE KASPERSKI

In the dimmed hospital corridors, I was translating my tongue o . Nobody in the hospital could translate what the English-speaking doctors were saying to my Cantonese-speaking mom – no one except for me. So, we had to make due with my subpar Cantonese. My hands frantically moved in gestures to help make my awkward tones and occasional English phases easier to understand. As the conversation wrapped up, I felt like a marathon runner, drymouthed and dazed. Suddenly, my ability to help my mom communicate felt inadequate.

is realization terri ed me. If I couldn’t speak uent Cantonese anymore, how would I be able to communicate e ectively with my family?

Cantonese is a dialect spoken in southeastern China, primarily in the Guangdong province, which is where most Chinese people emigrated from before 1960. Historically, San Francisco has had a large Cantonese-speaking population due to its status as a port city, which made it a popular spot for immigrants to settle. is population is evident in the Language Access Ordinance’s 2021-22 report, which states that Cantonese was the second most used language in interactions with city departments in San Francisco, making up 31 percent. In an informal survey of a Chinese 2 class at Lowell, 77 percent of respondents spoke a Chinese language other than Mandarin at home, 80 percent of whom spoke Cantonese. Despite this, Cantonese is not one of the seven languages taught at Lowell.

However, another Chinese language, Mandarin, is taught here. Why?

Mandarin’s status as the People’s Republic of China’s national language is the main reason why it is more commonly taught. Additionally, China’s political and economic rise on the world stage within the last decade has made Mandarin more valuable to learn. But if you’ve ever stepped foot in San Francisco’s Chinatown, you would know how much Cantonese dominates that neighborhood. Store signs are written in the traditional script (Mandarin usually favors the simpli ed version), and some shopkeepers speak the language exclu-

sively. Could someone learning Chinese through high school classes in the San Francisco Uni ed School District (SFUSD) even apply what they know in their immediate surroundings? Not really. Although Mandarin is a useful language to know, Cantonese has a unique place in San Francisco and should be a language taught within the school district.

Upon entering Lowell, I didn’t realize the drawbacks of learning only Mandarin in school. Initially, I reasoned that it and Cantonese couldn’t be that di erent. I was wrong. Cantonese and Mandarin are both considered a part of the Chinese language family — an umbrella term used to describe the languages spoken in China — but are in practice almost unintelligible from one another. Everything from tones to grammar is di erent, with only the writing system being something they share. Mandarin was so similar yet so di erent from Cantonese, which led me to confuse words and mispronounce tones. I quickly realized that learning Mandarin was not helping when it came to communicating with my family. I’d nd myself thinking in both languages when speaking with my parents. Exclusively knowing words in one language and other words in another made it awkward and confusing to have conversations. So I ended up having to learn an entirely new language instead of building upon the one I already knew. Now I’m shallowly uent in both dialects and am nowhere near achieving the biliteracy I hoped for.

SFUSD provides no resources for learning the Cantonese language in a formal class setting for high school students. A look at the district’s website shows resources for both Cantonese and Mandarin. But the only resources provided for Cantonese are immersion programs in certain schools, most of which are on a preschool and elementary level, with only a few middle schools continuing the program past that.

e only other option SFUSD high schoolers have are the Cantonese classes o ered at City College. However, San Francisco’s community college only has one full-time Cantonese instructor

who teaches two classes per semester. According to KQED, both classes are lled with essential workers, and the waiting lists for these classes are long. is makes it di cult for high schoolers to take Cantonese there.

e lack of Cantonese instruction has negatively a ected me. I grew up speaking Cantonese as a rst language but slowly lost my uency when I entered elementary school. My elementary school didn’t have an immersion program, leading me to speak Cantonese less o en and slowly lose vocabulary. As a result, I became more alienated from my family, neither side being able to truly understand one another. e more this went on, the more desperate I became. However, I was met with a lack of resources and accessibility.

e role of Cantonese in San Francisco is important for residents of the city. But due to a lack of resources and accessibility, it’s getting harder to learn a language that connects many with their families. SFUSD does little to alleviate this and e ectively nothing for Lowell students. Taking Mandarin has le me confused and just as lost as I was before. is is why the district should provide Cantonese resources to high school students. Learning this language would allow them to connect with their family and culture, as well as continue a unique San Franciscan tradition.

I became more alienated from my family, neither side being able to truly understand one another.

PEN15

By Sierra Sun

The Hulu series

PEN15 is both an agoniz ingly relatable and culturally accurate dis section of early 2000’s teen girl hood — an era of AOL Instant Mes senger, low rise jeans, and jamming out to Nelly. Co-producers and lead

actresses Maya Erskin and Anna Konkle — women in their thirties — play Maya Ishii-Peters and Anna Kone, exaggerated adolescent versions of themselves. The pair of best friends are obvious outliers among their middle school classmates, who are casted by 13 year olds. Though at times awkward and excruciating to watch, Erskin and Konkle’s satirical reenactment of tween behavior makes audience members, like myself, deeply resonate with their coming-of-age struggles through pre-womanhood horrors. This includes humiliating encounters with crushes, reluctant confrontations with cultural identity, anxious departures from adolescence; the list goes on.

Throughout PEN15’s three-season run, it’s jarring how I forget that the main characters are portrayed by actual grown women, and are not just scrawny middle schoolers.

relives the psychosocial trauma they experienced when they were that age. However, unlike facing these pressures head on for the first time, PEN15 gives audiences an aerial view of the mortifying teenage girl experience, underlining how everything Maya and Anna go through is temporary. “The conceit of the show was that they think they’re in seventh grade forever,” Erskin said in an interview with the New Yorker.

Erskin and Konkle nail the self-absorbed “no-duhs,” within their slang, the hunched-over body posture, and retainer lisps to a tee. Attached at the hip, they yearn to fit in and reach peak maturity as middle schoolers. When Maya is embarrassed for having blood stained tissues emerging from her pants or when Anna chugs a can of beer with older girls, the audience

“It is this extreme microscope. It’s, you know, interminable hell.” It’s comforting to see how these grown adults who are reliving the worst times can lend teenage audiences a beacon of light to these pubescent horror stories, and remind us that what we’re going through will pass.

Yet, what truly sold me on this show was how Maya’s Japanese American upbringing was seamlessly integrated into several episodes. Under her huge mushroom haircut, Maya awkwardly straddles the pressures to accept her mixed-race identity and assimilate into her white suburban middle school. We see her self esteem dwindle when classmates stretch their eyes at her and call her UGIS — “Ugli-

est Girl in School.” Returning home with internalized anger, Maya pokes fun at her immigrant mother’s pronunciation of English words, calls her Asian features ugly, and rebuffs any aspect of her own personality that’s “too Japanese” for her liking. As uncomfortable as it is to admit, I saw myself in how Maya inadvertently othered her mother to project her own inability to accept her Asian American identity. Erskin conveys a middle schooler’s unconscious discovery of racism so well, it’s almost as if she referenced my diary entries when writing this script. PEN15’s ability to unsparingly paint the unspoken aspects of Asian American girlhood connected to me on a different level by displaying this nuanced experience that’s rarely shown on American screens.

PEN15 gives audiences an aerial view of the mortifying teenage girl experience, underlining how everything Maya and Anna go through is temporary.

Erskin conveys a middle schooler’s unconscious discovery of racism so well, it’s almost as if she referenced my diary entries when writing this script.

PHOTOS COURTESY OF HULU

MarceltheShell withShoesOn

On the outside, “Marcel the Shell with Shoes On” looks like a lighthearted children’s film, a googly-eyed shell being the main character. Upon seeing the trailer, it immediately drew me to Marcel’s charismatic and curious personality and I assumed the movie would be a feel-good film. But I was left drowning in my tears by the end of the movie. “Marcel the Shell with Shoes On” is more than an an imated film about a cute sounding shell. It’s a touching film that describes loss, hope, and one’s fears in a chang ing world. Marcel is a kind reminder that no matter how small we are, change is inevitable.

Fleischer-Camp as a guest staying at the house Marcel and his family live in. Intrigued by his miniature life, FleischerCamp begins to learn about Marcel’s day to day life, meeting his “pet” aka a piece of lint named Alan, and his nana Connie. Whimsi cal and imaginative, Fleischer-Camp begins recording and uploading videos of Marcel’s life to YouTube, garnering the attention of mil lions. Despite his newfound popularity, Mar cel is overcome by loneliness. Learning about the separation between Marcel and his family, Fleischer-Camp decides to conduct a livestream to help reunite them. Marcel reluctantly agrees, and soon realizes that the quaint miniature world he’s adapted to is tiny in comparison to the world around him. Scared of what the future may hold, Marcel proves that he can persist through his over whelming fear of change, and find what he truly wants — his family.

world” of Los Angeles, Marcel finds Nana Connie’s dementia has gotten worse, and realizes she does not have much time left. This change he was afraid of hap pens, and he realizes he must stop the search to take care of his grandmother. This seems to be the end of Mar cel’s journey, and he decides to stay in his shell, terrified by further change. But when Marcel is approached by the series “60 Minutes,” to publicize his story on television, there is a glimmer of hope to reignite the search. He at first declines the offer, worried about the sudden shift it’ll bring on his grand mother’s health. But Nana Connie tells him he can not decline the offer. So, Marcel asks her a question: “What if everything

By Aaliyah Español-Rivas

changes?” And in response, she reminds him it will. This one moment alone conveys the message of the movie perfectly. Change is constantly happening in one’s life. It is scary, yes, but it’s our job to accept it, and overcome it. Marcel has already undergone multiple changes in his life, and knows that there’s a small chance he can save his grandmother. Yet, with her reassurance he decides to hold onto the small hope he has left, for the small chance that the segment could reunite his family.

When filming, Nana Connie looks over to Marcel joyfully living out his dream of being on the show, and peacefully passes away. I had no words when this occurred. Though I knew it was coming, to happen so soon was shocking. But just like she said, change did come, leading Marcel to be overcome by grief and lose the innocent and curious shell we first met. Utterly heartbroken and petrified of change, Marcel decides to do nothing. He does not go outside, and spends his days alone, closed off from everyone. Until he is called by “60 Minutes,” and realizes he isn’t alone. Through “60 minutes,” he reunites with them and now has gained the one thing

Overcoming his grief, Marcel begins life yet again in his community, honoring Nana Connie in all he does, through the garden he maintains in her honor. Marcel is no longer alone. The film concludes with Marcel on a windowsill, admiring the way the wind feels when it goes through his shell. The film’s final seconds end with the serene sound of his shell. He knows he’s still grieving, but he’s also healing. Though the ending is nothing profound, it demonstrates that no matter what, change did occur. As much as Marcel tried to stop

“Marcel the Shell with Shoes On” is a film everyone has to see at least once in their life. It’s a film that catches you off guard, and leaves you contemplating your entire existence. Though Marcel had experienced pain unimaginable, he always held out hope. Marcel taught me that I can remain cautious and be scared of change, but it’ll always come, whether I

The Questions Never Asked

By Darixa Varela Medrano

Snack Time

By emily yee

Last one Standing

By Hugh Macdonald

SONGS OF THE SUMMER

ILLUSTRATIONS BY EMILY YEE

ACROSS

5. Polaroid released a statement after this song came out telling users not to shake Polaroid pictures.

6. When he produced the hit “No Brainer,” he probably said “Anotha One!?”

8. They created the new “Philadelphia rap anthem.”

10. THE quintessential summer camp talent show song.

13. This artist is the typa guy to write a song named “Passionfruit.”

15. He’s got that “rebel without a cause” look in his eye; song.

17. A song for if you like midnight driving with the windows down.

19. They’re unforgettable, undeniable, and you probably know one.

20. _________ were meant to fly.

21. Call him at 678-999-8212.

DOWN

1. Though many fans heard that “he looks so pretty like a devil,” he actually just looked up grinning like one in this song.

2. Cat got your tongue, Grouplove?

3. Hepburn, Beyoncé, Marilyn, etc.

4. Creator of songs such as “Slide,” “Feel so Close,” and “One Kiss”; DJ.

7. Live fast, die young; these people do it well.

9. In the hood she’s like Princess Diana.

11. Sings of “hot summer nights, mid-July”; first name.

12. This song is best known for its Polo G feature, can I get an amen?

14. He’s got a selfie with Oprah (he just ain’t never post it).

16. They’re catchin’ waves in America?

18. A chef in the popular 2022 Drake/ 21 Savage hit.