SYDNEY LOEW

[loewandbehold-blog]

STARE

Yesterday, my little sister Toni came up to me and said, “You’re tired, aren’t you?” Okay...that’s true. “Yes! How can you tell?” I asked. Then she said this: “You keep staring at random places.”

Toni was right, but the scary thing is I didn’t realize I was staring. My eyes were so uncontrollably exhausted that they just wanted to take a rest on some random person, table, or burrito (we were at Chipotle). Am I really at that point of junior year that I’ve heard horror stories about? That point where being tired takes on your whole being?

A couple months ago, during the heat of Banquet season, a freshman came up to me: “You look really tired.” Thanks. There was another red flag. I needed sleep, but every person in the junior class knows that we can not possibly sleep. At 11:30pm there is still a math assignment that needs to be done or else we won’t understand anything in class. At 12:00am there is still a Spanish quiz that requires a good half hour of playing the Quizlet gravity game. At 12:30am we are on the brink of sleep and our eyes keep closing and we keep rubbing our eyes but we have that APUSH textbook chapter we have to finish. It’s a cyclical madness that the poor, innocent freshman can’t understand until she experiences it herself.

This morning a similar event happened. You get it...someone else thought I looked tired. But, it was different this time. I had late start because of my free period, and I woke up startled to my alarm. My mom, who usually sugar-coats and smiles at things, walked in the room, took one look at me, and exclaimed, “Woah! You look tired! Jeez!” Great.

I guess the moral of the story is that I need sleep. Except sleep comes at a price. Figuring out your priorities is the first step. As much as I would like to prioritize getting a healthy amount of rest, I find that working towards getting good grades, taking on responsibilities I’m passionate about, and trying to understand what I’m learning eats up my schedule. For me, being tired means I have spent a lot of time working on something that I find important. Everyone has goals that they love so much that they would pull an all nighter to work on it. When you are working on a project in the middle of the night that you don’t really like, you are subconsciously prioritizing it. You could go to bed right then and there on top of your laptop. But, you don’t. You keep going and you don’t give up until you print out that final draft.

So, when someone says, “You look really tired,” take it as meaning, “You are working hard.”

[loewandbehold-blog]

REFUGE

Disneyland used to be a vacation. A couple years ago it evolved into an obsession. Today it is a refuge.

For me, a successful day at Disneyland is characterized by sipping a Starbucks with pixie dust on the cup, going on Pirates of the Caribbean over and over until I memorize the “yo ho” song, feeling my heart beat in my feet, flying on Space Mountain until my head spins, holding three sets of Fast Passes at once, hopping between the two parks at least four times, and capping off the day with the tear-jerking fireworks show. Disneyland is magical no matter who you are and how you experience it...that’s one of the parts I love most about it. For my dad, a successful day is sitting on a bench in New Orleans Square with a coffee and listening to the spontaneous jazz bands that appear. For my little sister, it is catching a glimpse of Winnie the Pooh, but not taking a picture with him (?). For my mom, a successful day is knocking off every ride on the list and busting through the park because magic is action. I like her style. 

There are so many reasons why I love Disneyland. For one, I love the attention to detail. Everything has a purpose. Everything is a functioning gear in the machine. It’s hard not to be captivated by the branding genius that goes behind Disneyland. Every toy, every shirt, and every sign is perfectly engineered. I love that, and I hope someday I can make something as iconic and timeless. I mean, on Main Street USA there are scent-shooters that make the road smell like pastries and flowers. That’s not just a theme park. That’s paradise.

Recently I’ve turned to Disneyland for refuge. With the endless activities, entertainment, and surprises at your disposal, it’s hard to think about anything else. Homework, tests, and responsibilities become a side note. The only scheduling you have to do at Disneyland is deciding which ride you want to go on next. The only due dates are the “return times” on your Fast Pass ticket. The only thing tested is your bravery (and your stomach) as you take the plunge on Splash Mountain. Going to Disneyland is like entering a parallel universe where it’s way too easy to forget about reality. 

This week, I recommend taking time to think or write about something that makes you feel calm and relaxed. We’re almost done with school, and I know the thought of something carefree this week seems like torture, but for me it’s done more good than harm. Take time to smile and reflect on your happy place. If yours is the happiest place on earth, we can obsess on it together. 

[loewandbehold-blog]

ASSISTANCE

According to the 16 Personalities Personality Quiz, I am a Commander (ENTJ). Being a Commander means I am an extrovert, I use my intuition, I think instead of feel, and I judge rather than perceive...it also means that I am the only Commander in my class!  : )

Recently I’ve been thinking what being a Commander means. According to the summary on the website, not only am I an egomaniac control-freak, but I’m also extremely independent. I will carve a path for myself, even if there isn’t one there to begin with. But just today I figured out how being a Commander has held me back.

While juggling school, it’s hard to keep my stuffed toy company Poketti afloat. I definitely try to post on social media every day, but sometimes that isn’t enough. In order to turn a start-up into a business, you have to network, create demand, and advertise everywhere. With just our family behind the wheel, it’s slow going. We try to sell at pop-up shop events to spread our story, but with SATs, ballet, and homework clogging up weekends, it’s hard to find time to work on expanding my plushies’ reach. I’ve seen so many licensing deals and PR spikes gain traction, then slowly simmer down. Failure is a huge part of launching a business, but a new opportunity came up recently that might turn things around. 

This is where I realized that my Commander nature has been holding me back. My mom (the Debater), my dad (the Architect), my sister (the Advocate), and I have been contacted by a great PR firm called ChicExecs. As a family business, we’ve been marketing and advertising all by ourselves, but ChicExecs offered to expand Poketti along with us. If you asked me a year ago, I would have declined the offer – my Commanding nature would tell me to keep Poketti in my own domain. But, help is extremely important. Some things are only successful if you get help, and this definitely holds true for a growing company. It seems kind of obvious that my family can’t start a stuffed animal empire our own, but I owe it to my Commander mindset for that setback. I hope that growing our connections will grow our company in return.

I am happy to say that Poketti is going to have new team members! With the help of the amazing (and adorable) ChicExecs in San Diego, you might see Poketti on Good Morning America, on a shelf at Nordstrom, or sitting at the table with the women on the View. Fingers crossed!

[loewandbehold-blog]

PERFORMANCE

Huddled together in the dense, sweaty air, we mummify our toes, fasten our pointe shoe ribbons, and hide our yawns. 

Pacific Ballet Academy is entering performance weekend (the one right before Rivalry and Banquet, how convenient!) and I’m exhausted and ready. We’ve been rehearsing for months, and I am so excited to finally have all of the work pay off! Leading up to every show, the hours in the studio add up to about 15 or more. Sadly, the blister count isn’t insignificant, either. I’m excited to perform in Swan Lake, Paquita, and a modern piece called “Moxie.” The reality still hasn’t set in that I have to go onstage this weekend...it probably won’t until I souteé arabesque onstage with my swan friends.

Ballet hasn’t always been something I’ve enjoyed. I actually used to dread it. About seven years ago when I was on a competitive dance team, ballet was my absolute least favorite style. It wasn’t because of the sticky pink tights. It wasn’t because of the pain-inducing bobby pins. It was the monotony. Every single class we did the exact same combinations, in the same order, in the same way. My ballet classes today are similar, but being older now I realize that monotony is important. Repetition is the best way to improve, and it can be applied to many other aspects of life. You can approach a single dance move in so many different ways, and that is what makes ballet so difficult, but also so special.

If I could go back in time and talk to the younger me, I would tell myself to not lose hope in ballet. I started to finally enjoy it when I performed in my first Nutcracker. In the Nutcracker, you have to tell a story and assume a character in addition to performing the choreography. By just taking classes, you can never achieve that sort of feeling. My first Nutcracker, as eye-opening as it was, was very rough. Because it was my first year at the studio concurrently, I was demoted to being a Party Scene Boy. I was a gigantic 13-year-old among third graders. Third graders. I had a couple frustrating years feeling like I was in the wrong level, but finally I’ve reached my place with the other juniors and seniors. In this show, I have to switch personalities with each role; in Swan Lake, I have to be a possessed, sad swan; in Paquita, I have to be a sassy Spanish dancer; in “Moxie” I have to be...well, I’m not entirely sure. Modern is weird. And awesome.

If you’d like to watch me perform (and watch endless amounts of baby ballerina dances), the best show is Saturday at 5pm, where I’ll be in all three of the dances I just mentioned! Please let me know! Here is the link to buy tickets: https://tickets.mvcpa.com/eventperformances.asp?evt=116  

[loewandbehold-blog]

TOUR

One of my absolute favorite parts about attending Castilleja is getting the opportunity to talk to the applicants that want to join us.

I remember my high school application season vividly. I regretfully applied to six schools, but I only put my heart into one of the huge applications: Casti. After being waitlisted in 5th grade, I was determined to earn my place as a Casti Girl. I was practically a mini high schooler taking on extra responsibilities and challenges in order to look good to colleges. The ISEE was my SAT. I treated my interview like I was trying to get a spot at Harvard. I tried to pile up the good assessments (my crazy middle school didn’t use letter grades) like I was trying to build a 4.5 GPA. Looking back at myself, I laugh uncontrollably. Castilleja is an amazing school, but I was putting on such a show! Yet every time I tour an Upper School applicant, I am reminded of the genuine pressures that I faced three years ago.

Today, I gave a mom and her daughter a tour around campus. The prospective Casti girl was poised, enthusiastic, and confident. But, because I’ve been in her shoes, I know that she was probably more nervous and intimidated than anything. I find it funny how her mom was the exact opposite. A lot of parents have this aura of passivity on tours, like their daughters have this school in the bag. The mom and her daughter were both extremely interested and had lots of questions for me. When we were out of sight of the Admissions offices, of course my favorite questions came up: “What colleges are you thinking about?” “How do you get in contact with boys?” “How intense is the homework load?” “Is your school very clique-y?” Of course, I try to deflect these questions as best I can. I feel bad answering these questions with such fake responses, though. I don’t know what else to say. I would to go in between the mother and daughter, put my arms on their shoulders, and dish them the truth...just one time. But, I kind of like keeping the reality a secret. Besides, the acceptance rate is very slim and I want to leave every applicant with a great impression of our school, just like I had...looking at Castilleja with heart-eyes and a nervous, pounding heart.

After the tour, the mother and daughter were supposed to meet with one of the Admissions directors. The weirdest thing happened. I was talking to the daughter and her mom, answering lingering questions, and all of a sudden the Admissions director walked in. I could cut the tension with a pair of scissors. The mom shot her hand out eagerly to shake hands, saying her full name at the same time...first, middle, and last. Okay. Next, the applicant shook hands with the director. She nervously giggled, and her eyes were sharp and focused. Did I look like that, too? The whole room shifted from casual friendliness to heavy anxiety. I’ve never witnessed anything like it. Everyone felt the stakes getting higher, even me...the supporting role to their epic drama. Knowing how humorous, friendly, and kind-hearted the whole Admission staff is, I find it so ironic that they have to play the most intimidating characters!

I find it amazing that life at Casti is normal. I feel like I’m in paradise compared to every other school: my opinions are valued, I get fro-yo three times a week, I have the opportunity to try new things, I can explore my passions freely, I get fro-yo three times a week...I just love sharing the atmosphere with others, because it always makes me look at Casti in a new light. It’s nice to take a break from the chaos of homework and see Casti for what it is: an amazing, intelligent community. Good luck to everyone waiting for their letters on March 17th!

[loewandbehold-blog]

EXPANSION

School is for learning, growing, and developing. So driving into school everyday, I feel conflicted when I see the “Stop Castilleja Expansion” signs peppering the front lawns of Palo Alto’s neighbors.

The bright red stop signs blockading our school read, “Keep enrollment at 415 students,” but they scream, “Stop giving girls strong voices and educations.” They read, “Stop 15 years of permit violations,” but they cry, “Stop persevering and striving to teach the next generation of women to be the best leaders they can be.”

Palo Alto residents can argue that the expansion of Castilleja will disrupt the “flow” of the city (PNQL.org). It’s a possible outcome that the construction could be disruptive, but not as disruptive as the impact of their statements on the students of Castilleja. Every classmate, faculty member, and Castilleja parent that I’ve talked to regarding these signs have agreed with me: “I want to rip them all down!”

The neighbors need to look at the issue from both sides before putting signs on their lawns. Castilleja has been very respectful in regarding our problems with the city. We don’t ever mention neighbors by name or by address. We include them in conversation, but never offensively or disrespectfully. But, parading stop signs around the school does not seem like reciprocal, respectful treatment to me. We are not trying to overstep the bounds of our “permitted” area. Instead, we are trying to give more girls the opportunity to explore themselves and their passions. I have learned so much from being a student at Castilleja, not just academically, but socially and emotionally. I attribute my amazing high school experience to my inspiring, intelligent teachers and my talented, supportive classmates. I can’t imagine being forced to stop inviting more people into our incredible community.

I’m not sure how Castilleja stayed on such a small campus for so long, with every student growing and taking on the world in their own bold, unique, and gigantic way. After all, we are women learning, women leading, and women expanding. 

Citation: http://pnqlnow.org/

[loewandbehold-blog]

LAUGHTER

I have started a weird habit.

Every night after I finish my work, I have been doing the strangest thing. With the last bit of energy I have left from the day, I find my phone and open Pandora. I turn on the “Comedy Radio” and I listen and laugh on my way up the stairs to my room. I laugh and laugh myself to sleep. I charge my phone at night but the outlet is at the foot of my bed, so I sleep with my head at the bottom of the bed near my phone where my feet usually would go, just so I can hear the comedians better. Pandora has a sleep timer, so it turns off after 30 minutes. I usually don’t stay awake until the end.

I laugh at the strangest things when I’m tired. I laugh at John Pinette singing a parody of “Over the Rainbow,” but in this case it is “Over the Buffet” at the Wizard of Oz buffet in Las Vegas; I laugh at Brian Regan’s hyperboles and weird impersonations, especially when he mocks the customer who has a hair in her salad when he replies, “Well, there are no prizes or anything;” I laugh at Ellen DeGeneres when she calls God, God sneezes, and Ellen says, “God bless you...oh, well bless yourself!”; I laugh at Chonda Pierce when she says that men love NASCAR where they drive in circles, which is proof that they give bad directions; I laugh at Steven Wright and his infamous one-liners like “Some people are afraid of heights, but I’m afraid of widths.”

These comedy routines bring my days to a close in a lighter and happier way, instead of ending them with my face in a textbook. Listening to comedy has also made me look at the world differently. Everything can be picked apart, criticized, and made ironic. With humor, you can make light of any situation. Reality can be twisted and re-stated to be more positive, and comedians are paid to do that. I have started writing a few jokes, and it is harder than it seems. The key is taking an everyday thing that everyone knows, and juxtaposing it. Jim Gaffigan does this with ease: “I didn’t work out today. So, that makes it three...decades.” Wouldn’t every day be more enjoyable if it was full of laughter?

As Jerry Seinfeld says, “Comedians are just surviving. So asking me what my favorite “Seinfeld” episode is, is like asking me to choose my favorite breath of air...whichever takes me to the next one.” 

[loewandbehold-blog]

TIME

It’s the holiday season again and my grandparents are hounding me about what I want for Christmas. “$100 limit! Anything you want!” How about some time?

I am so ready for Christmas: the gingerbread houses are sitting in their boxes; the tree unpacked in the garage; the lights are untangled and ready to be strung; my fuzziest pajamas are laid out ready for Christmas Eve. What am I missing? Time to actually set everything up. Since 2002, my family has a tradition where we buy a new Nutcracker every year. In recent years, when we’ve finally had some time to go get one between a some rehearsal and a school event, Nutcrackers were out of stock in every store.

It kills me whenever this conversation happens at home: “Hey let’s go decorate gingerbread houses!” my mom says with an excited smile. My enthusiasm gets the best of me and I chant, “Yeah let’s do––” but I stop myself mid-conniption. My heart says, “ICING,” but my mind says, “What about that APUSH textbook reading that you’ve been putting off? And you should really get started on that math problem set early. Don’t even get me started on your Biology lab. Wow, and your Spanish presentation? You better get on it!” This constant to-do list interrupts my conscience more often than not. It has always been my top priority to get good grades and to learn the most I can cram into my brain. I am very competitive with myself. I like this part of my brain, and it keeps me going strong. Except sometimes, it’s harder to calm down my mind than to actually get my work done.

I’ve made a compromise with myself. I will work extremely hard and put all of my effort into having successful final exams. This next week will be a party with me, my notes, my old tests, and my full attention invited. After the last final, I can finally let go. I will force myself to forget what stress feels like. So when I say that I’m excited for Christmas, I subconsciously mean I am ready for a clear mind.

For all of my amazing classmates reading this, good luck with the rest of the semester! I believe in you. You can do it. Keep working hard, and don’t forget to keep dreaming of a white Christmas (or Hanukkah!). 

[loewandbehold-blog]

IDOL

I am profiling my idol. Alyson Yamada is not only a Senior Designer at IDEO, but she was also a ballerina at the San Francisco Ballet.

Design is in my blood: my mom is a graphic designer for about any kind of organization you could think of (playgrounds for the disabled, cookie companies, and military virtual reality training programs...) and my dad worked at IDEO for 16 (or 17...depends on mood) years. Evidently, IDEO is my dream home. Yes, the office does have every kind of cereal on the face of the earth, but it is also the company where the world’s most creative and artistic people work. Being able to meet someone who lives in such an innovative environment is an amazing opportunity.

On top of that, Alyson was also a professional ballet dancer. Sure, I do ballet. But Alyson DID BALLET. She went to the National Ballet School in Canada and had boarding school ballet training. Unfortunately she had to stop because of a horrible injury, but her experience in the ballet world is something to soak in. The amount determination, raw focus, and perseverance that it takes to be a professional dancer is monumental.

Okay, so no pressure. She’s a person living my dreams. No big deal. The other day I talked to her over the phone to set up an appointment to meet. Casual. Of course she is adorable and sounded like the sweetest person on earth. That’s fine. On the phone I found myself stuttering and spilling out words to fill the time. I legitimately said, “awesome...cool...awesome...cool” to her over the phone. TO MY IDOL. What do you say and how do you act when you are talking to the person who you think carries all the answers to your life? Being able to have Alyson as my profile person is the most amazing experience...but I can not let it get to my head.

Tomorrow I am heading off to IDEO to shadow Alyson on her day. I will see her talk to a group of Stanford freshman (oh yeah that’s cool, just throw my dream college into the mix), her participate and brainstorm for a confidential project (I have to sign a NDA...Non-Disclosure Agreement), and where she teaches spin and hip hop classes (somehow IDEO is okay with me looking at top secret projects but the dance studio doesn’t want me to sit in on an actual class). In order not to slur “awesome...cool...awesome...cool” together again, I have to be calm. Observing and saying nothing can be more beneficial than filling the space. Sometimes being interested and attentive shows more promise than speaking.

I am ready to meet Alyson in person. The most important thing is to make a lasting impression, lasting connections, and a lasting experience to take with me to college and hopefully in the future, my first job at IDEO.

[loewandbehold-blog]

TRUTH

At school, we always talk about diversity. Gender, economic, racial, cultural, and experiential...we always leave out political diversity.

I remember the first time when my political beliefs were questioned. I was a second grader and my arch rival, that nosy and extremely annoying dad who always hung around my elementary school, asked me, “Are you a Democrat or a Republican?” The 2008 Presidential election was a big deal at the time, and my parents mostly voted republican. I heard their mixed opinions between conservative and liberal ideals, and how conservatism always came out on top. So naturally, I said, “I’m a Republican,” to the dad. He scoffed and laughed and snarled. “A Republican? Do you know how mean they are?” From then on I have kept my conservatism a secret.

If I could, I would vote for Donald Trump. Don’t gasp. I’m not just saying this to be different. I would vote for him because of the politics he stands for, including smaller government, enforcing the border, support for the death penalty, and the right to bear arms. And, as the Republican nominee running for the highest office in our country, Trump is not being treated fairly. Day after day, it’s so hard hearing people’s monumental hatred towards Trump and the overwhelming bias towards Clinton. Even if you don’t agree with what he’s saying or his politics, the very fact that he’s running (and beat out 16+ other Republicans for the honor) deserves respect. I hear, “Okay, maybe Hillary deleted a few emails. Everyone in government does that. But Trump disrespects everyone, and that is awful.” From experience, I know that a businessperson has to respect and listen to others in order to succeed. I don’t believe Trump could achieve his level of success without amazing social skills and respect from and for others; both traits important as President.

About Hillary’s email scandal, that is unacceptable. Not to mention illegal. Everyone deletes emails? Not everyone is Secretary of State and First Lady and has been in government for 30 years and has access to extremely valuable and highly classified government information. The FBI is currently investigating whether or not she should go to jail, as they recently found further evidence of her committing more crimes to cover her tracks. You wouldn’t know it from the media feed on my iPhone. There is barely a mention of it, and if there is, the entire thing is dismissed or “blamed” somehow on Donald Trump or the FBI Director who reopened the investigation. The current President, his wife, and seemingly everyone around me is in full support of Hillary, no matter what. They are demonizing Trump for his distasteful actions a decade ago, but are completely okay with Hillary using her various positions as a means to get rich. As the evidence pours out, she keeps lying, and people keep covering for her. It’s infuriating.

I do not want a President who calls me “deplorable” and “negative, dark, divisive, [and] dangerous” because I support the opposing candidate (2). Am I a horrible person for having the minority opinion in California? It definitely seems so. Democrats think that Trump is all about his image and his money? Don’t they know that Hillary and Bill Clinton charge hundreds of thousands of dollars to speak at conferences? On at least one occasion, Hillary told top secret information about the killing of Osama Bin Laden to a roomful of deep-pocketed businesspeople (4). How is that okay?

In English class, we watched Michelle Obama give her complete, undivided support of Hillary, the same woman who said repeatedly that Barak Obama was completely unqualified to be President eight years ago (1). By endorsing Hillary and “forgetting” about all of the evil things she said about them, the Obamas are in on Hillary’s streak of deception. Even as a Republican, I feel that Obama is “my” President. It’s disillusioning to hear him and Michelle endorse Hillary, when they know what kind of person she is. They spoke volumes about her when Obama campaigned against her two terms ago. When it is so clear everyone is lying, who am I to trust? I was excited to learn that in the same English class, we were also going to hear from a Republican. Finally there would be equality in political views! My classmates would hear the “other side” and while I’m not sure they’d turn conservative, at least they might give Trump some of the respect he deserves as a viable candidate. I read the article along with my class. While it was written from a conservative perspective, it was, yet again, an essay how unfit Trump is for the Presidency. The article said how he would reshape the GOP like “chemotherapy”...with pain and vomit (3). So much for equality of political views.

In my extremely “blue” environment, I find it hard to speak up and share my beliefs, especially as Republicans have been so demonized in the biased media, social media, and in everyday conversations. The hateful stigmas surrounding “my” candidate have outnumbered me. Writing this post is a huge step in sharing my beliefs with others, and frankly, I’m nervous how people will view me after reading this. Please know that I am not evil or deplorable or divisive or dangerous. I am respectful of the office of President, no matter who sits in the oval office, and I am respectful of everyone’s opinions and beliefs, blue or red. I just want the same in return. I want to share my ideas of how America can achieve stability and power. However, I need to do it in a safe, truly diverse and accepting environment. I am a proud Republican, but I’m afraid it doesn’t count if I don’t show it.

Sources:

1) http://www.thepoliticalinsider.com/four-times-the-clintons-said-obama-was-unqualified-to-be-president/

2) http://www.insideedition.com/headlines/19638-hillary-fires-back-at-heckler-who-shouted-bill-clinton-is-a-rapist-at-rally-im

3) https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/donald-trumps-vile-candidacy-is-chemotherapy-for-the-gop/2016/10/10/73e40f30-8f05-11e6-9c85-ac42097b8cc0_story.html

4) http://nypost.com/2016/10/09/bin-laden-secrets-revealed-in-latest-clinton-e-mail-leak/

[loewandbehold-blog]

COOL

As my sister gets older, I am getting younger.

After school, Toni is a character. She is way cooler than I was as a new freshman. She has tons of Snapchat streaks running simultaneously, she keeps up with the latest BuzzFeed articles, and she uses the latest popular jargon (as you can tell, I was not as current with the trends at her age. For example, I just typed the word, “jargon”). She is schooling me at pop culture, and I feel her maturity growing by the minute. It’s a big change seeing her so social and independent, and it’s going to take some getting used to.

Watching her talk is like watching a viral meme.  I am amazed at Toni’s engagement with her friends, and how she is growing up to have groups and social interaction and fun without me by her side. But, this hasn’t always been the case. Toni and I are, and always have been, a package deal. If you get me, you get her. If you get her, you get me.

My parents would call her “baby bird” or something insanely fitting and cute, while I was always some condiment like “honey” or “sugar.” I was even demoted to “worm.” Toni was the baby that needed protecting with her chubby checks and puffy blonde hair. But now, she looks like (an equally adorable, don’t get me wrong) little Brandy Melville model walking around campus with her friends. I don’t usually get a window into Toni’s life in a classroom or in her friend groups, but this year (and next year) is a rare opportunity to observe her in her natural, social element. My parents are curious too, as we all see the quiet “teenage” Toni at home. We’re curious about her social life and what in the world she is always looking at on her small pink phone.

I’m seeing her work until midnight, send pictures to friends, and talking about the latest new music, and I feel a mix between starstruck and empty. Where is the tiny Toni who wouldn’t speak a word to someone in public even if her life was on the line? Now I see her talking with a friend group, sometimes at the center of attention. Where is the Toni that would get docked participation points for not uttering a word in class? Instead I see in her adoring comment cards that say that she frequently reacts and engages thoughtfully in class. Where is the Toni that was okay with being walked by without even her presence being acknowledged? Today, every freshman that walks by her wears an enormous smile and says a gigantic and enthusiastic, “Hi Toni!” These are extremely positive changes, but where have they come from?

I love Toni, and she will always be my little baby sister, but it’s so interesting watching her come into her element as a high schooler. I have to accept that the mute, blonde five year old is gone. As Toni gets older and I feel younger, I hope that we only get closer and closer as we “meet” in age.

[loewandbehold-blog]

TERROR

It used to seem far away, but the threat of terrorism feels like it is creeping closer and closer to our lives in Palo Alto.

The Boston Marathon bombing, the shooting in Orlando, the shooting in San Bernardino, and the most recent massacres against Americans have seemed distant to me. They were in large cities that had fairly rough crime histories, and I took them to heart as a threat on the country as a whole. But, the most recent bombing in Elizabeth, New Jersey opened my eyes to the reality of the threat against America. 

Elizabeth is a city with a population of only 50 thousand more people than Palo Alto (US Census Bureau). The suspect of bombings in Manhattan and attacks against police, Ahmad Rahami, stored explosives in and bombed the small city of Elizabeth, NJ. I have been hearing about terrorist threats in big cities, but seeing one in a small town like Elizabeth made me think twice about my safety.

I have full faith in the American police force, but like most things, I often imagine the most extreme scenarios possible. My mental list of possible threats could go on and on. I wonder what I would do in a situation like the one Elizabeth, NJ faced. Would I fight or flee? Or would I just freeze in one place, screaming my head off?

One thing caught my attention about the article I was reading. It came with a video where the citizens of Elizabeth talked about what they experienced during the bombing threats. One woman cried “all day,” one man feared for the safety of his life and his business, and one woman was just outright scared at the proximity of the threat. But in the end, every Elizabeth citizen linked their experiences to the future of their community. They all felt united, supported, and connected together.

No matter what kind of violence was on the horizon, the people of Elizabeth all embraced the ambiguity of their lives. One woman hopes that we all “realize that you [must] live every day to its fullest.”

Article Source: http://www.bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-37426212

[loewandbehold-blog]

IMPATIENCE

I learned more about the world from a couple hours driving than from 16 years in the back seat.

When I got behind the wheel for the first time, I felt like I was a part of my community. I was another citizen traveling on the road. It didn’t matter who I was, where I was headed, or what motivated me. I was controlling a car, following legal rules, and getting to know the behaviors of other people. The day I got my first “honk” was the day I was brought back to the reality.

I was going to merge onto San Antonio road (which is super busy all day, every day), and I was waiting for a chance to get into the line of cars. Each space that passed me became a beckoning opportunity, calling me to join in. They were all a perfect medium size that was bordering on large enough room and too little room. A great situation for a brand new driver. My mom, sitting next to me, kept repeating, “Go now! Oh, it’s too late...go now! No, you waited too long. Go now...wait...” My foot went on the break, off the break, on the break, off the break. The people behind me probably thought I was having a seizure. Finally, I reached a breaking point. My judgement was overruled by my impatience, and I squeezed into a slot. I didn’t fully commit, still rethinking my decision, as I strolled 10 mph in a 40 mph zone of angry, late, and tired drivers. BEEEEP. 

That was a scary moment: annoying someone, and knowing that I had to recover with a fuming, impatient driver behind me. After reflecting on the scene, my mom of course was scared as I was, but she said that the driver behind me was tightly wound and he shouldn’t have driven so fast. After more and more practice sessions, I kept spotting lightning fast drivers. Behind me, next to me, in front of me. Everywhere. The Bay Area is getting to be one of the most congested roadways in the world. Everyone is working, rushing, and moving no matter what time of day it is.

Everyone is impatient. Impatient to get home after a long day at the office. Impatient to get on the highway in order to get to that meeting on time. Instead of swallowing this and trying to remain calm, most drivers unleash it on other people. My carelessness that I faced when I tried to merge onto San Antonio was a result of impatience, and that almost cost me.

My few hours behind the wheel has taught me to slow down and not rush into any dangerous situations, no matter where I’m going. 

[loewandbehold-blog]

EMOTION

Home is emotional. Some people even say, “home is where the heart is.”

When I am traveling and I think about home, I don’t think about my house itself. I don’t think about my desk. I don’t think about my bed. I don’t think about my pet bunny. Well, actually, okay I do. But not my bunny himself. I think about my bunny emotionally. For an example, I don’t think about the way my bunny’s soft fuzzy head feels when I pet it, I think about how I feel when I pet him. I feel pure joy and happiness. The things that stick with me the most about home are the feelings and moments that I experience when I am there.

When I am tired, I feel like spending time at home, because my home makes me feel relaxed. When I am at my grandparent’s house in New York where I am dying to actually do something because I am bored out of my mind, I want to go home where I feel productive. When I am outside and feeling really cold, I want to go home, where I feel warm (not just because of the heater of course). Home is full of emotions that I can’t feel the same way anywhere else.

I’ve lived in the same house for my whole life, so I don’t know what it is like to be torn from feelings established in another home. “Going home” means revisiting and re-experiencing the comfortable feelings associated with your house, and I can imagine that it would be really difficult to have these feelings for the last time. Sometimes people can have many different homes where feelings are established. I consider Castilleja a “home,” because I feel like I’m in a community where I am safe, excited, and independent. I consider Pacific Ballet Academy a “home,” where I feel happy and comfortable to push myself and to grow. 

If it all comes down to having experiences and emotions, I believe that every place has the ability to become a home. That means you have to make the most out of where you are and what opportunities you have in a specific place, because you never know how long your feelings will stick with you.

I believe that a place really becomes a home when you can’t wait to feel the way you did while you were there again.

[loewandbehold-blog]

DREAM

Think of the word “American.” What pops up in your head?

I immediately think “American Dream.” Anything is possible in America, no matter who you are or what you are interested in. But, how was this idea planted in my mind? Why is the “American Dream” the first thing that I think of?

My answer begins when the Europeans first set foot in America. The very first colonists to travel across the dangerous Atlantic to the uncharted “New World” were in search for freedom. One of the most coveted freedoms that the colonists were seeking was religious freedom. One of these go-getter religions was Puritanism. The Puritans planted and grew their beliefs in America with their own colony, their own theocracy, and their own companies. One thing stowed away on their ship to the New World, and that was the spirit of entrepreneurship. The Puritans intertwined economic success into their religion, as it was punishable to be lazy and to not make a living for yourself; they believed that having a high status in business and a lot of cash in your pocket was your ticket to being closer to God (Degler, 1984). I believe that this mindset, that quickly spread across the thirteen colonies and far out west (Degler, 1984), lead to making America a capitalistic society. Our passion for success in business is set deep in American soil, and has driven us to be one of the most powerful nations in the world today.

I guess that all-American capitalistic mindset shows in me as “American Dream” appears in my head. I started my own company, so I definitely do have a passion for entrepreneurship (www.poketti.com), but maybe America’s high value of business success planted it in me. I think this mindset is one of America’s best qualities, and people around the world feel it, too.

Immigrants come to America from all over the world for better opportunities and to make new lives for themselves. The identity of America around the world is centered on this desire to start fresh and to make it big. And who wouldn’t want to make it big? This is one reason why America is so amazing in the public eye. Success is attainable in America. Political success (any American citizen can be in the government), success in social change (social media is at anyone’s fingertips), success in education (public schools are avaliable for every child), or any other kind of success is up for grabs. Our government was built to sustain the freedom that the American pioneers fought so hard for.

The “American Dream” is for every American, and being a part of this country makes me feel like I can do anything. I feel so lucky every day to have been born in America, where endless possibilities are tangible. All I have to do is have a dream.

Citation: Degler, Carl. Out of Our Past, 3rd ed. New York: Harpers, 1984.