a waffle analysis

Can you believe it's already December—the end of 2020? This end of the year holds or leads to a culmination in January of so many things: our last first semester, the finale of college apps, the end of the very odd yet iconic 2020... All the times typing 21 at the end of our usernames, seeing it as an abnormally large number; it's crazy that 2021 is in less than a month! I'm sure most of you have experienced a long moment of reflection upon writing college essays—who are you? What does your identity consist of? Reading "Three Girls," I was super inspired by the main character's courage at the end to come out, finding her identity amidst the societal stereotypes back in that time. But for me, thinking about each year and how I've grown really makes me nostalgic, excited to see what awaits me in college, a new environment. Perhaps putting up the Christmas tree and realizing this year is my last year of fully being at home (maybe) caused this nostalgia. I gue...

I sit at the countertop, watching the humans move around the kitchen floors yet never stopping for more than five minutes. Awakening earliest is a teenage girl half-awake, always filling up my companion with water who boils. The girl drops a frozen waffle into me or microwaves a piece of bread from the bag. A new one appears almost every week— wow, this family eats fast . As I pop the waffle out of my electric confines, the girl retrieves the waffle and her water bottle, scurrying up the stairs. If it's a weekday morning, she's always in a rush, constantly glancing at the oven clock ( I need an upgrade! ). I wait around an hour to see two older adults appear; the mother cooks eggs daily but changing the vegetables within. It's a surprise to see what's set on the table each day, but I know this mother is caring and loving, waking up every day to cook under an empty stomach. Mothers truly deserve more respect . It's 9am soon; I'm not used much except for the teen ...

Everyone was waving and exchanging greetings and talking, as if they were in a club where people are glad to find themselves among others from the same world. That is how I explained to myself the strange impression I had of being odd man out, a kind of intruder.   Ever played Among Us? This addicting game is a fun game my friends and I play as a break between the work we have to do. What's funny though is that when I was reading The Stranger , specifically the quote above, I made the connection of Mersault feeling like an "intruder" to this new, popular concept of impostor in Among Us. Mersault comes to this realization when he notices everyone conversing, happy to see each other. It's funny as he just explains to himself that he's the odd one out, as we all know that he's clearly the odd one out since the beginning with his passivity toward life (oddily enough, this is a significant factor toward his trial decision).  As I read Mersault's story, especial...

One of my takeaways from this week's Socratic Seminar is our tendency to make excuses toward external factors rather than the actual internal factors. We are avoiding the real issue at hand: ourselves. Any outcome that didn't go Oedipus's way was attributed to fate. Although there was a prophecy tied to his name, hubris was the main cause of his problems. This made me wonder, how often do I attribute my shortcomings to factors I can't control? And vise versa, how often do I attribute my shortcomings to myself when they're actually uncontrollable? I'm indecisive and pretty sensitive (it sucks), so I normally think unfavorable solutions are my fault, or at least partially. Throughout high school, this college app season, and quarter 1's complex identity unit, I've begun to explore who I am and what makes me happy. In the summer, I had a severe identity crisis—feeling like a jack of all trades, master of none. Everything I did seemed to have no substance, j...

 “It is wrong to have an ideal view of the world. That’s where the mischief starts. That’s where everything starts unravelling.” —V. S. Naipaul, Magic Seeds  Going into high school, I held an idealistic view of the high school world, setting a roadmap for my courses and extracurriculars. Cleaning my room today, I found that paper with all my plans. Needless to say - they didn't happen. For each February when we picked our courses, I had a major dilemma between what I wanted to pick versus what I had planned, and also what my peers. Upon seeing this quote last week, I felt that it accurately represented my annual February class selection stress - the ideal view of what I had to be and what I had to select unraveled all of my fears.  Potentially this stems from my indecisiveness: confusion over what I want to do in the future and hope to appease others like my parents, counselors, and peers. Looking back at these last few Februarys that I don't have to go through this year...