Unexpected Growth
REVERB
Photo and poem by Victor Aguilar, age 20
English was a challenge to grasp,
I was too shy to speak in class
My native tongue flopped and sung.
The words crashed into peers.
Their ears close, when they hear.
The beat of my tongue,
the sound of my ‘r’s,
the latin soul from my heart.
My English class clashed like brass,
these ears were trained for strings.
Spanish sounds sunken in me.
Annihilation of my ancestors,
violations of my raptures.
Instances of apprehension,
Is it others or is it me?
Is it that I’m different?
Or, is there a meaning to your indifference?
The rose that grew from concrete,
the one that believed.
That’s me.
The boy who lives in dreams.
The man trying to make his goals concrete.
TIME AND SPACE
Photo and prose by KDG, age 17
I have learned how to not be a perfectionist, and how to allow myself to explore, in all areas of my life. I have learned how little control I have over the world around me, and even within my own life. More importantly, I have learned how to be ok with this lack of control.
Without the time and space that the pandemic gave me, I don't think that I would have discovered this passion for art and creating, or grown in the ways that I did. For this, I am grateful. I am also grateful to have had experiences throughout the pandemic that led to positive change for me because I know this was not the case for many.
PRIORITIES
Photo and prose by LB, age 17
I am grateful to the pandemic for being a time that I truly got to know myself. I had spent much of middle school and high school up to this point trying to fit in with the people that I was supposed to fit in with, while COVID-19 destroyed the social ladder. I realized both the lifestyle that I enjoyed the most and my own priorities.
By a few weeks into the shutdown I had slipped into a routine of staying up until the early hours of the morning and not waking up until two minutes before my 11AM class. At some point my mom started waking me up a couple hours earlier to work out with her and I realized that I loved the morning and was much happier waking up early. The beginning of the pandemic was a stretch of empty days that I enjoyed filling with experimenting and getting to know myself. I learned that breakfast is my favorite meal of the day and that I always have better days when I don’t sleep through it. I learned that I love being outside and building strength and security in my own body. I learned that I have to get dressed to feel productive, that my mom is my best friend, and that I value resetting every Sunday with grocery shopping, clean hair, and a clean room.
As the weather got warmer in the spring of 2020, my mom started taking us on family walks everyday. At first it just felt sad that my only ventures outside of the house were runs and walks, but I soon came to value and feel the relief of all the moments of calm with my family. Our daily walks, backyard games, and dinners together were my favorite parts of the day.
The people I found myself missing the most during lockdown were the small circle of close friends that I was truly myself around. I realized I had the most fun baking and watching movies with my best friends, and that I did not miss at all the bustling school cafeteria and large group that I had always convinced myself were cool but that I had never really felt comfortable around. This realization brought me a lot of comfort. Leaving high school I am extremely grateful to have stopped working so hard to conform.
TRAILS
Photo and prose by Matteo D’Aveta, age 16
Reimmersed in life, I once again find the places that have cultivated and influenced my character: the worn but life-filled stage of the Caron theater, real, tangible desks and classrooms, the dusty, chipping blue floor of the locker room where the soccer team kneels down to pray, where the lights above, too rickety and old to work for us, flicker but fail to shine too bright. These spaces still mold me, and I still squeeze them, even more so as I see myself regrettably move past them, and as they fade too. As I emerge, I trust that my bond with the forest will not dissipate. I hope the home I've found in Medford's trails and natural nooks stays with me to help me understand the person I am and the truths of where my cares lie.
HOPE
Photo and Poem by Baban Gill, age 16
Hope is being able to see the light shine upon you
Regardless of the shade
We watched as two weeks turned to four, then three months and we withdrew
Our old selves by gazing at all the transformations that were made
Character development, physical changes, mental changes
Eliminating the darkness
Allowing the colors to fly into the picture
Watching people step out of the dark
Into the light
Hope
Hope is what they perceived
Hope is what they desired
Hope became their escort into the light.