How To Enter Senior Year

(Disclaimer: I speak recognizing my place as an incredibly privileged, upper-middle-class student. More on that later.)

1. With trepidation.

Because we’re human. And we’ve been waiting for this. I know that for me, I often think, “I’m never going to be 30,” or “Yeah right, people get married, but that’s never going to be me.” Throughout middle school, I lived in an “I’m never going to be a high schooler: that’s crazy.” Throughout high school, I’ve convinced myself, “I’m never going to be a senior—never going to reach the college application stage and face those beasts. That’s crazy.”

Here I am.

Time works real weird when we quantify and personify it like that, and so here I am, much too quickly, near the end of my high school career. Tomorrow is going to be my last first day. This is going to be my last HS fall semester. It’s mind-blowing to think that I’m at the ’12’ in ‘K-12,’ and simultaneous with the thrill of being on top and in sight of the tunnel-end light… is some variation of fear.

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To the Boy On Whom I’ve Had a Crush Since Sophomore Year

The way I feel about you is the way I feel about most things (definitely). Nothing special, because multiplicity breeds normalcy. To crave a fulfillment is to give in, & what I mean by that is I constantly catfight with biology. / At the same time, I can’t fake apathy. I can’t fake the thrill of new and alive things the same way you can. I haven’t spent enough time doing this—catharsis as a mood rather than an action, when the blood brings back the bad no matter how hard I try to be creative, lovely, or master. / Focus, you say. Help me, as if there’s anything I could have touched thoroughly. I never envied myself until I stopped believing your realities. / Anger & its comrades, they’re meaningless here as I hunt for paths around cliché. Your eyes are like jumping bugs; I bet you’ve never heard that one. And I’m sick of writing to & about you because it won’t change anyone or anything but me.

==> In other words, I like you hormonally and I wish I didn’t because I can’t.

HA.

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Day 8: Final Day in Sucre [Sucre, Bolivia 2017]

Today was our ‘fun’ day! We went to El Patio around 9am to get salteñas. It was a good time of fellowship, exchanging some gifts, talking. Then, we broke off into little groups to go shopping, sightsee, etc. I went with Carmen, Tina, Silas, Josue, and Marco to shop, then look at Casa de Liberdad Bolivia’s equivalent of Independence Hall. Then we looked at a store/’museum’ featuring real hand-made textiles. Women sit at a special loom and can spend 6 months making an 18″x12″ piece, creating shapes and using colors to tell stories. I ended up buying a beautiful poncho made on a different electric-powered loom from alpaca fur. If you see me wearing it, now you know the story 😉 Continue reading

Day 3: Training/Evangelism + Church [Sucre, Bolivia 2017]

Hi friends!

Today was very very very busy, i.e. nonstop… in good ways 🙂

First, woke up at 7, then promptly fell back asleep until 7:30. Was slightly exhausted. Breakfast with team, then left with translators for our church around 8:45. The morning was going to be evangelism, but there were Jehovah’s Witnesses walking the streets at that exact time, so Pastor Fernando had us switch around our schedule. Interesting to remember that other religions/cults also do evangelism globally. Continue reading

Thought on Race on the 4th of July

Imagine 3rd-grade me, little quiet skinny Asian girl, sitting cross-legged in the Music Room, feeling snarky.

Now, listen to the chorus of this song:

 

Now, imagine little me singing (quietly and self-satisfied-ly):

“Me, and me, and me and me and me and me and
Me, and me, and me and me and me!
I am part-American, part-American, part-American, me and me!
Part-American, part-American, part-American! Me and me!”

 

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The second great wave of immigration from Europe was largely comprised of Irish and German immigrants. The Irish tended to settle in large cities on the eastern seaboard, looking for low-paying menial jobs in factories and such since they were generally very poor. The Germans, on the other hand, tended to settle more inland, since they came with a good amount of money. Low-income Americans, black and white, hated the new Irish because they were making the job market much more competitive. They were generally more ok with Germans, according to APUSH.

Today, do you know the difference between the Irish-Americans and the German-Americans (or whatever-percent Irish/German someone is)? Do you care?

Maybe I’m late to this realization, but here’s my thought. The same is going to happen to Chinese people in America. Continue reading

Advice to Future Juniors

Junior year is hard. You’ve heard it before, you’ll hear it again, and soon, you’ll be saying it yourself. I just came out of it alive, as a student at Westlake High. Here are my two cents on junior year survival.

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1. Treat your time like money. 

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