The hardest part about being Filipino-American is being American I can talk about how unfair it is that gas prices are higher everyday Or I can talk about the incidents involving girls who end up dead before they realize the man at the wheel isn’t their Uber driver Or I can talk about what a hassle it is to go to a busy supermarket during COVID season I call these situations struggles I call them disasters And they are, but they pale in comparison to what happens abroad Where over a third of rural inhabitants are living in poverty Where the evil that is Human Trafficking is a household name Where thousands of children are forced into prostitution rings Where suspected criminals and addicts involved in drugs are killed on sight Even if stray bullets turn children into collateral damage I’d never wish these tragedies upon myself I just wish I could share the burden of the pain Because if I’ve learned anything about my people it’s that even in the most tempestuous of storms, we endure But how can I endure when I’ve never really known struggle? How can I weather this storm when I’ve never seen real rain? My Filipino spirit recognizes the sun, but not this California climate The blood that runs through my veins has been filtered by American oxygen My skin is barely painted by the sun Still brown, but not quite the color of the land my ancestors toiled over And the language of my people, though not foreign to my ear, comes out broken on my tongue No matter how many Pilipino teleseryes I watch, I will never be able to say, “Matitik–” “Matitikm–” I will never be able to say those words without stumbling on the first syllable So how can I even dare to share the burden of their pain when the burden isn’t mine to bear It’s my American mentality to put my ego on display and call it “sharing my point of view” But there’s a difference between putting yourself in someone’s shoes and leaving them to walk barefoot How do I take ownership of my culture without stealing it from those it truly belongs to? It is not only an ocean, but experiences I could never comprehend that separate me from my people in the islands How do I get closer to a culture that roots thousands of miles away? I feel such suffocating dread every time I wake up too early in the morning How lucky am I that I get to wake up at all? In 2017, 28 out of every 1000 children in the Philippines died before the age of 5 I barely remember when I was 5 Yet to some, 5 was a lifetime And though my lifetime has been more than 3 times that, my age makes me none the wiser Because no matter how tan my skin How broad my nose How dark my hair And no matter how much Filipino is in my blood I’ve lived an American life And considering that I know how hard the lives of others can be, that should be a blessing But this blessing can feel like a curse Because my American life This so-called blessing Is the barrier that separates the Filipino-Americans from the Filipinos My American life separates my privilege from others’ poverty This so-called blessing distinguishes having a hard time from going through hardship The hardest part about being Filipino-American is realizing that at times, you can never truly be Filipino or American At times, you want to be both But you can’t At times, you want to just pick one But you can’t Because I could never understand what it’s like to be a real Filipino But other Americans will never understand what it’s like to be me It’s like trying to find a balance on a broken scale It’s like trying to fly with a mismatched pair of wings It’s like I can’t hold onto something without letting another go But I can’t hold onto both at the same time either Though I’m born in the USA, I can almost taste the salt water I can almost smell the food I can almost hear the busy chatter of people at the palengke I can almost feel all 8 rays of that radiant Filipino sun But why does it still feel so far away? The hardest part about being Filipino-American… Is being… Filipino-American - Jordan Ritchie This poem explores the struggles I face in trying to connect with and find my place in my Filipino culture, while being hindered by my American upbringing. Though the examples I use are specific to the Filipino-American experience, the emotions I try to convey through the piece can likely be relatable to anyone who feels divided within themselves due to their biracial identity. Biography: Jordan is a half black, half Filipina-American aspiring writer. She’s the Editor-in-Chief of her school newspaper, The Antlerette, and also an aspiring poet and novelist. When she’s not scribbling half-baked ideas on sticky notes, she’s either reading, listening to music, finding a new show or movie to watch, or daydreaming for dangerously long periods of time. Cover Photo Source: https://www.filamartistdirectory.com/grace-bio

I sit above a yawning canyon on a frayed rope bridge that swings continuously, each motion stretching the already too-thin fibers that keep my home afloat. To my right, the worn rope attaches to solid earth. This side is familiar, pale beige tones beside glossy pink lips drawn into wide white smiles. Bright laughter mingles with polite conversation-- everything light and faint and lovely. To my left, the other end of rope attaches again to solid earth. The sweet sharp scents of lemongrass and ginger sting my nostrils, and words punctuated by short syllables sound foreign to my untrained ears. It is warm and vibrant and beautiful. My chest aches with want. It is lonesome here, on my weary bridge, gazing upon the two worlds I want nothing more than to be a part of. I long for the rope to repair itself, granting me a safe passage to each side, but even I know I cannot undo the past. So, I sit above a yawning canyon on a frayed rope bridge that swings continuously, and I don’t know how to move. This piece was written to communicate the inner turmoil that comes along with being mixed race. Cover Photo Source: CDN

Revolution is messy, but oh, that’s so hard to sell! The blood spilled on the streets Is packaged into pretty plastic bottles And guzzled by those who wish To position themselves on the Right Side of History, shilled to us by corporations wanting to cash in on cultural capital. Calls for change Are drowned out amid consumers Clamouring for a slice of Revolutionary Valour and Vain— glory; sanitised slogans printed and reprinted, cries for justice cannibalised And the cries of the voiceless fall upon deaf ears While blatant lies of ‘We’re On Your Side!’ Are spewed from every orifice of the earth. Revolutionary rhetoric re-enacted by bad performers Fuelling not the flames of social change but instead their own egos— Burn down the theatres! Set stage and actors alight! Change comes not Out of the mouths of clowns and ventriloquists’ dummies. When will you realise: your performance is meaningless! Enough with your stupid soliloquies of faux-solidarity! Stop shouting and listen. - Talola John This poem was written out of frustration with an outpouring of performative activism, particularly from corporations, in the wake of the Black Lives Matter protests following George Floyd's unjust death. Many of these individuals and corporations continue to hold and perpetuate harmful prejudices, yet they attempt to express solidarity with the movement in order to seem 'woke' or socially conscious. Instead of engaging in performative activism, we should always be trying to listen to and amplify marginalised voices. Biography: Talola is an Indian-Australian university student and an aspiring writer, illustrator and comic artist. She is deeply passionate about history, literature and the world she lives in. Cover Photo Source: https://thewildcattribune.com/10174/news/performative-activism-rises-as-traditional-activism-becomes-a-trend-for-social-media/

It's late in the evening. You and your friends are in your backyard, chatting the hours away. The ambiance is delightful: everyone’s wrapped up in warm blankets and drinking endless mugs of hot cider, and the air is punctured by the crackling of wood chips and rambunctious laughter. The view above you is breathtaking, as if an artist had canvassed the entire sky with vibrant shades of red, orange, and pink. As the last rays of the sun sink beneath the horizon, you all make s’mores, toasting marshmallows over an open flame. “It’s almost November...” one of your friends says, spearing yet another marshmallow with a pointed skewer, “...only two more months until the new year.” “The new decade!” another corrects. “The Roaring 20s.” “I wonder what the world’s going to be like.” Someone scoffs. “It’s only a few months from now—it’s not like anything will change!” “You don’t know that! You don’t have 2020 vision!” Eventually, the conversation dies down in tandem with the flames. When the clock strikes twelve, all that’s left is the barest of embers. Your friends leave one by one, driving back to their respective homes. “We have to do this again one day,” you say to each of them. But as October fades into November, as you all try to make more plans, life keeps getting in the way. There are family obligations to meet, last-minute work-shifts to take, and nights to spend studying. December rolls around, and you’re caught up in the stress of holiday gift shopping and maintaining your grades. You spend the entirety of winter break with your family up north like you do every year, cooking meals with your 76-year-old grandmother who’s beaten breast cancer twice and singing carols with your older cousin who’s 5 months pregnant. You greet the new decade surrounded by loved ones, bursting with anticipation for what the world has in store for you. As you light your sparklers and gaze up at the night sky, you realize that this is the decade when everything changes. This is the decade when you’re turning eighteen, when you leave the small town where you were born and raised your entire life to go to college, when you get your degree, when you move into your own place for the first time. This will be your defining decade, with joy that has yet to be felt, friends that have yet to be met, and memories that have yet to be made. You’ll be ready for all of life’s twists and unsuspecting turns. Bring it on, 2020. ---- It’s safe to say that you weren’t ready. No one was. On a global scale, no one was expecting the coronavirus pandemic, which has taken over 2.4 million lives (and counting) as of February of 2021. It began as a small spark but spread like wildfire, spreading devastation everywhere it touched. It changed everything—and it’s only been a year. With pharmaceutical achievements such as the Moderna and Pfizer vaccinations being authorized for mass distribution, there have been some estimates that we will go back to a state of relative normalcy by the end of 2021. Yet does “normal” mean that the world will return to the way things were before? After all, burns can heal, but not all scars fade—some injuries are etched far too deeply upon the human spirit. The coronavirus has made its way into every facet of our existence, engulfing any semblance of our previous way of living in its fiery wrath. It’s affected every aspect of our collective lives, and we as a world will be dealing with its ramifications in the years to come. The coronavirus has irreparably altered the vitality of countless individuals. We mustn’t discount the devastating loss of millions of lives: mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, and friends who were taken from the world far too soon. However, a sole fixation on COVID-19’s mortality rate does a disservice to anyone who has suffered from increased morbidity—people who were once-healthy, with hopes and dreams and aspirations just like any of us, who eventually recovered from this deadly disease but will never be the same. A fifteen-year-old girl who had once longed to be a professional dancer, who is now so physically weak she can barely find the energy to get out of bed in the mornings. A head chef who first realized something was terrifyingly wrong when he couldn’t taste a recipe he had made countless times before—who, even months after recovering, never regained his sense of smell. A writer of a best-selling book series, who spends her days staring at a blank screen in a brain fog-induced haze, a blinking cursor mocking her inability to recall the words that once flowed so easily. Recovery doesn’t necessarily mean going back to normal. Not dying doesn’t always mean a completely restored state of health. Yes, the number of individuals with coronavirus-related debilitating symptoms is extremely small when compared to the number of people who make speedy, uncomplicated recoveries. But for the case of the unlucky few, this is more than just a statistic—it’s their reality. These are real people, who will have to learn to live with these devitalizing consequences for the rest of their days. COVID-19 has also impacted people’s mental health at a drastic rate. Perspective is everything. The coronavirus has only been a prevalent issue for one year, and for many, the time has gone by quicker than a blink. Yet others have spent 365 long, torturous days isolated from the rest of the world. For them, a year has felt like a lifetime. Countless “quarantine babies” have only known the confines of their own home, taught to be fearful of other people and the deadly sickness they may carry. Younger children—during the years when intellectual stimulation and interaction are essential to their long-term development—now must spend the majority of their day behind a screen under long-term social deprivation. Victims of domestic violence, hiding away from COVID-19, have been forced to live under the same roof as their abusers for far longer periods of time. They’ve escaped the clutches of one monster but walked into the snares of another, with 15 million new cases of Intimate Partner Violence (IPV) for every three months of quarantine. Many, their loneliness only exacerbated by the fear of themselves or a loved one contracting COVID-19, have desperately sought escape from the nightmares of the present world through food, television, and—in some cases—drugs. What happens when an epidemic becomes a pandemic? The coronavirus has been a “national relapse trigger;” in Erie County, New York, eighty-five people died from overdoses during the first four months of 2020—up 100% from that period last year. Its effects run far deeper than we could have ever imagined. The coronavirus has also spread its fiery destruction upon entire economic systems. For one, companies such as Uber and Lyft have experienced extreme economic loss, leaving drivers in extreme financial insecurity. Moreover, our small businesses have suffered immensely: according to a recent survey from SCORE, only 34 percent of small business owners were able to turn a profit in 2020, down 21 percent from the year before. An incalculable number of businesses—some that have been running across the span of generations of history, some that are the sole source of income for families to clothe and mouths to feed—have had to shut down for good. This global pandemic has wreaked havoc upon the restaurant and tourism industries and the United States Postal Service, in particular. While there have been some brands that have economically benefited from COVID-19—common examples being Purell, Cottonelle, and Zoom—they are only exceptions. One trend remains clear: the poor are becoming poorer, but the rich are becoming richer. According to a study from Columbia University, 8 million more Americans have joined the 47 million citizens already ensnared by the clutches of poverty since May of 2020. For many people, financial recovery after the coronavirus could take over a decade. But what about the world’s most affluent? While COVID-19 has led to the worst job crisis in more than ninety years, with hundreds of millions of people now unemployed or without work, the world’s ten richest men have had their combined wealth increase by half a trillion dollars—enough money to fully fund a vaccine and ensure collective financial stability, with money left over. This supports a statement made by Melissa Leach, the director of the Institute of Development Studies: “Epidemics are always mirrors to society, and what this has revealed is a highly unequal world.” But this inequality ranges far beyond the economic realm. “I can’t breathe.” These were the last words of George Floyd, who joined the ranks of Emmitt Till, Breonna Taylor, Atatiana Jefferson, and so many more, just one out of many bright souls unjustly snuffed out by systemic racial prejudices. After so many months of collective inactivity, the coronavirus was the perfect catalyst for fostering indignance against severe disparities within our world that society once perceived as normal. George Floyd’s murder sparked many to action, drawing out hundreds of thousands of civil rights activists all over our country and our planet; “Black Lives Matter” has even been said to be the largest movement in United States history. However, this was only the beginning of the political change within this country—a change that will be documented in our history books forever. Many events that were scheduled for the year 2020 were canceled, but one exception was the United States presidential election. National Public Radio (NPR) relates, “More votes were cast in the 2020 presidential election than in any other U.S. election in history, and the turnout rate was the highest in more than a century.” With over 80 million votes, Joe Biden secured the role of 46th president of the United States. Moreover, almost 250 years after this country was first founded, we finally have a woman presiding as our vice president. Kamala Harris, both African American and Asian American, has shown the world that women and people of color are capable of holding positions of power. However, while Joe Biden and Kamala Harris serve as the President and Vice President of the United States, they have taken over a divided nation. January 6, 2021 will forever be ingrained in our minds. For the entire day, thousands of rioters partook in an attempted coup, touting American flags and breaching our nation’s capitol building, performing the very antithesis of the words emblazoned on many of their chests. Under the phrase “Make America Great Again,” they breached our nation’s capitol building, breaking down doors and shattering windows, overwhelming and overtaking Capitol Police. A noose built on makeshift gallows, a callback to a time when African Americans were terrorized under the Jim Crow era. A Confederate flag waved with pride inside Capitol chambers, something that hadn’t even happened during the Civil War. A Capitol Police officer who lost his life after physically engaging with rioters, the very people who said that his life mattered. The American people’s unceasing patriotism is a flame that has burned for centuries, first in the heart of military general George Washington as he crossed the Delaware, then in the ironclad will of the soldiers at Fort McHenry who kept the American flag waving despite twenty-seven hours of constant bombardment, and now in every individual who recites our pledge of allegiance or sings our national anthem. Yet January 6, 2021 was a day of darkness, the closest this flame has come to being extinguished in our lifetime. COVID-19 has exhausted our healthcare systems, debilitated our economy, and almost upended our political system, but it hasn’t stopped there. Before 2020, terms such as quarantine, social distancing, and 6 feet apart weren’t part of our verbal repertoire. The term “positive” was associated with optimism rather than disease. Our smiles were displayed for the whole world to see, rather than hidden under a sheet of fabric. This pandemic has left our hospitals overrun and our healthcare workers overwhelmed. It has exacerbated many of the inequalities that threaten the vitality of our country—access to education, obtainability of healthcare, economic stability. However, COVID-19 has also raised questions about the future. When this is all over will mask-wearing remain? Will we still maintain our ingrained fear whenever we hear another person cough or sneeze? How will people who have grown accustomed to introverted tendencies relearn social interaction? When a person is shaped both by their nature and their nurture, how will the coronavirus and all of the events that have stemmed from it affect the world’s youth—many of which aren’t even eighteen years of age? It’s known that COVID typically—and often most dangerously—afflicts older individuals. The statistics don’t lie. The youngest generations have the luxury of not worrying about financial security or their health to the same extent as their parents and grandparents. But even so, no one has come out of this global pandemic unscathed. Even those of us who haven’t been personally affected by misfortune or Death’s cruel hand have lost an incalculable amount. For Generation Z, the 2020s are supposed to be our milestone years. It’s when we’re destined to graduate high school and head off to college. This global pandemic has taken so much away: late nights with friends, eighteenth birthday celebrations, high school graduations, and college experiences. It’s stolen away what society says is the best years of our lives. We weren’t supposed to grow up this quickly. Forced to adapt to uncontrollable factors and adjust to the current state of the world, the collective naievté associated with youth has dissipated, no more than a wisp of smoke. However, many of us have also grown into ourselves. We’ve had the opportunity to pick up old hobbies we once never had time for, and we’ve had the freedom to try new things we’ve always wanted to start. We’ve finally learned to slow down and appreciate the little things, appreciating the small blessings of life that once would have passed us by. We’ve had the time to figure out who we are. But shouldn’t you be suffering and in pain alongside the hundreds of millions of people across the globe? When a global pandemic has shaped you into who you are today, is it selfish to find the silver lining in all of the bad? Is it terrible that, to an extent, you’re almost grateful for a global pandemic that has caused so many others unimaginable grief? Some things come into our life as blessings. Others serve as lessons. And yet there are others—people, events, circumstances—that are both. If we haven’t been personally affected, or if we’ve even benefited from the ramifications of COVID-19, we might feel ashamed for being happy—or as happy as we can be, given the circumstances. But while we should acknowledge and do what we can to alleviate others of their pain and suffering, we shouldn’t undermine or invalidate our own experiences, which are very much real and just as valid. In the present, the whole world is suspended in uncertainty. Yet life goes on. One day, this global pandemic will finally be extinguished for good. Over time, we will go back to “normal.” While some of us will forget what it’s like to be scorched by these flames, while some of us will heal from these burns, the coronavirus has left a permanent mark upon many. But we will prevail, just like the sun rises each day. We are living proof of this truth; our mere existence is a testament to perseverance that runs through our veins. Each of our ancestors endured the hardships of their time—countless wars, devastating plagues, unimaginable hardships—and each of them has endured. They kept the fire burning, and so will we. The blaze that rages around us will never extinguish the flame that burns within. “So while once we asked, how could we possibly prevail over catastrophe? Now we assert, How could catastrophe possibly prevail over us? We will not march back to what was, but move to what shall be. A country that is bruised but whole, benevolent but bold, fierce and free.” —Amanda Gorman, “The Hill We Climb” Sources Used: https://www.legacycommunityhealth.org/newsblog-intimate-partner-violence-during-the-covid-19-pandemic/ https://tools.niehs.nih.gov/wetp/public/hasl_get_blob.cfm?ID=12121 https://www.businessinsider.com/uber-lyft-drivers-covid-19-pandemic-virus-economy-right-bargain-2020-7 https://www.score.org/resource/megaphone-main-street-impact-covid https://amtrustfinancial.com/blog/small-business/what-companies-benefit-coronavirus https://static1.squarespace.com/static/5743308460b5e922a25a6dc7/t/5f87c59e4cd0011fabd38973/1602733471158/COVID-Projecting-Poverty-Monthly-CPSP-2020.pdf https://www.abc.net.au/news/2021-01-25/covid-19-pandemic-exacerbating-wealth-inequality/13089128 https://www.nbcnews.com/news/world/world-s-richest-become-wealthier-during-covid-pandemic-inequality-grows-n1255506 https://interactive.aljazeera.com/aje/2020/know-their-names/index.html https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2020/07/03/us/george-floyd-protests-crowd-size.html https://www.npr.org/2020/11/25/937248659/president-elect-biden-hits-80-million-votes-in-year-of-record-turnout https://www.nationalgeographic.com/history/2021/01/decoding-hate-symbols-seen-at-capitol-insurrection/#close https://www.nytimes.com/2021/01/09/us/politics/confederate-flag-capitol.html https://ktla.com/news/nationworld/what-we-know-about-the-5-people-who-died-during-riot-at-u-s-capitol/ https://www.washingtonpost.com/dc-md-va/2021/01/06/animal-shelters-coronavirus-pandemic/ https://www.townandcountrymag.com/society/politics/a35279603/amanda-gorman-inauguration-poem-the-hill-we-climb-transcript/ Cover Photo Source: Georgia State University News

tw// sexual assault Dear Asian Youth, Maybe you have rewatched the Harry Potter series a thousand times, have a Pinterest board dedicated to long blazers and turtlenecks, or even an obsession with gothic libraries. The dark academia aesthetic is rising in popularity. While it is obvious that the glorification of the aesthetic excludes academia itself, as we began entering these new environments, it is important to be aware of the bigotry that is still rampant within academia. We often associate higher education with progressiveness, but in reality it was designed in an era of racism and sexism. Thus, creating a lack of diversity in higher faculty and senior positions that enables others to get away with their actions because the system is embedded heavily with nepotism. In fact, this association is often problematic in itself. For example, during election season people would say something along the lines of, “notice how all the red states are lowly ranked in education?” Although this ties into voter suppression, which could be another article entirely, statements like these demonstrate the inherent classism of education that even those leaning left seem to overlook and participate in. The whole STEM and pre-med mentality of “weeding students out” discriminates on those who came from less prestigious schools with less access to tutors and material. As a result, society often shames people for attending community college instead of a university. Furthermore, higher education is sold to us as a means to escape poverty, except first-generation college students are put at a severe disadvantage. In return, students of lower economic status struggle with student loan debt, especially since a diploma does not guarantee a job, and repeat the cycle with their children. For example, the National Center for Education Statistics’ (NCES) found that students of low and middle socioeconomic status (SES) “who went on to complete a bachelor’s or higher degree by 2012 (2 percent or less) were smaller than the percentage of high-SES students (12 percent) who were not enrolled in 2006.” Even doing the research for this article demonstrates the inequity, as you have to pay to access scientific articles. According to journalists Brian Resnick and Julia Belluz on the "The War to Free Science," even academics, “often have to pay fees to submit articles to journals and to publish” (Vox 2019). Even getting to college requires taking standardized exams such as the SAT and paying application fees. Economically disadvantaged students may not have the time or money to dedicate their time studying or applying to numerous colleges at once. Due to systemic racism, class and race are intertwined. The Trump administration believed in reversing affirmative action policies and more “race blind” admissions, which disadvantages BIPOC by ignoring race inequities. In addition, the Washington School District ruled Asians as non-students of colors which feeds into the model minority myth. With the Black Lives Matter movement, many university students were found to openly post and say racist things; such discriminatory behavior discourages students from attending certain universities. Why should Black people have to work around the racism they face instead of institutions punishing and preventing racism? Professor James Johnson Jr. from the University of North Carolina Kenan-Flagler in the “Reflections on systemic racism in higher education” discusses how his fellow Black colleagues and him are used to being denied higher leadership roles from unanimous committee votes, only to find out it was offered to a less-qualified, white colleague. Additionally, Professor Johnson shares his experience “listening to a white member of a tenure-review committee characterize a Black colleague’s research on class differences within the African-American community as “ghetto sociology” unworthy of a positive tenure vote because the research did not include a white sample.” In the “What Happens Before?” study, Milkman, Akinola, and Chugh reveal that “faculty were significantly more responsive to Caucasian males than to all other categories of students, collectively, particularly in higher-paying disciplines and private institutions.” Furthermore, they conclude that there was not a correlation to higher representation and lower discrimination. Thus, despite higher education’s seekment for diversity, they are failing to address and prevent such bigotry in their environment. Misogyny in higher education is unfortunately not surprising. We joke around all the time about women in STEM and have accepted the mansplaining/not being taken seriously because we know it is one of the “less problematic aspects” of being a woman in academia, which in itself is sad that we are just used to it. As evident by Hollywood and the Me Too movement, power dynamics breed predatory behavior. In the Lansing State Journal’s investigation into Michigan State University, they found that “49 faculty and staff have been found in violation of policy since 2015,” eleven which still remain at the institution. Therefore, due to politics in higher education, reports do not mean anything when they don’t believe the victim or care. Even when colleges do end up taking action, the survivor often faces backlash and consequences. After ex. Professor Polygerinos at Arizona State University was investigated for sexual harassment, he later left and resigned from the university. However, the student that accused him faced retaliation from her own classmates; the remaining lab members “allegedly took over her lab equipment, kicked her off projects and otherwise sought to turn the lab she spent so much time into a kind of hell” (Inside Higher Ed, 2019). So what does pursuing higher education mean as a woman? According to the National Criminal Justice Reference Service (NCJRS), “nineteen percent of the women reported experiencing completed or attempted sexual assault since entering college” (2007). Additionally, they also found that only 12% of student survivors report to the police. Thus, pursuing higher education means being aware that almost 1 in 5 of us will have to be weary of and face sexual assault. There is always talk about how it will ruin the assaulter’s career, but what about ours? The trauma and PTSD that comes with surviving such horrific events, as well as the potential retaliation aftermath, can delay our careers, thus demonstrating how race, class, and gender are intertwined since help for healing (e.g. therapy) is expensive and not accessible to everyone. Overall, disparities in academia perpetuate a cycle creating hostile environments for people from a low socioeconomic status, BIPOC, and women by allowing problematic individuals to not be held accountable for their actions and feigning ignorance in order to not create equity. As I head off to college in six months, I am worried that I too will become a statistic. Ironically, the only thing we can do is to educate others. Bringing awareness and forming solidarity can help guide these institutions in fixing the dark side of academia. - Tia Nguyen Cover Photo Source: https://science.sciencemag.org/content/357/6347/222

i've been thinking everything comes down to circles. from the tiniest specks of dust to the planetary orbit, don't you think there are multiverses within an atom, in the same way our solar system is a series of concentric rings? stretching on and on and on, round and around, encircled in one another interesting how the act of living is a conversation within this endless embrace how we maintain the most delicate balancing acts, because once I learned about Zeno's paradox in my algebra class and my heart softened like sand into pearls and i wondered if it could have been felt a million, billion, trillion miles from where I was, that tiniest shift in the paradigm and it seems like i am always reaching for somebody halfway away and halfway away and halfway away "nothing is truly touching" It’s the gaps between our fingers and the space between our teeth things that can never, will never, should never be closed. there's infinite space between finite spaces, I think about how pi stretches beyond comprehension so full of circles balanced meticulously so everything may coexist next to each other without ever actually intersecting the same way two parallel lines may never meet the same way there will be people you see every single day who you never actually know without gravity, imagine our collisions could stars fall, crashing in a day? would we utterly implode, atoms touching, finally bridging the vast infinity? you don’t ask strangers in the supermarket intimate, existential questions; once we are freed of our terrible inhibitors and constructs, freed of all earthly gravity, imagine it all. Imagine the potential, imagine being able to confide in a complete stranger, a word away from more. they call it chaos, a moment we are only mere inches away from, and yet light years so far from i have learned to deeply love the contradictions of this universe how our hearts yearn as one, and how we know it but don’t know it we are in orbit around each other, a back and forth volley, a silent conversation, an embrace that is our ode to the universe and one another, a circle infinite and finite - Billy Agustin Cover Photo Source: https://www.thatcreativefeeling.com/the-art-of-circles/yiqi-li/

Dear Asian Youth, “Anywhere but here,” I would say. My whole life was a sense of restlessness, wanting to be wherever I wasn't, constantly dreaming of escaping to another place. Sometimes, I wonder where this internal driving force came from. Maybe it's the fact that I tend to be a perfectionist—an idealist. The imperfections in this world drive me to think that the grass must be greener elsewhere. Maybe it's because, growing up, I felt that I never fit in anywhere. Feeling like a square peg in a round hole, that my very identity was a perpetual foreigner, even to myself. Sometimes, I think it’s in my blood. Of my ancestors that traveled thousands of miles in the hope of a better life, not knowing what awaited on the other side. This escapism has driven me across the world, both physically and virtually, dreaming of living on another shore and starting another life. To want to explore every crack and crevice of the earth, to leave no stone unturned. Yet, I can't exactly place what I am searching for. My whole life, I have felt as if I don’t belong. Growing up in the U.S., the feeling of being the perpetual foreigner is a constant, gnawing feeling that no matter what, you will never be good enough. One day we are given a seat at the table of opportunity, and the next we are cast out to the far corner of the room. The feeling that I never got to define who I am. That my face said it all—foreigner. My face says I don't speak English. My face says I am valued, only when I am complicit, and beautiful, only when mocked by whiteness. The struggle to feel valid. The struggle to feel like I belong. The struggle to feel that I am supposed to be here. Sometimes I think the root of my escapism is dreaming that on the shores of my home country, I wouldn’t experience this. That on the shores of my home country, I would be judged based on who I am, and not how I appear. That I would be accepted with open arms like a child separated from their parents for far too long. But the sad truth is, I am not. So, I live a life uncomfortably in between. In between countries, in between ideals, and in between mindsets. Defined by the part of me I wish could rid myself of. Too American to Be Chinese, but too Chinese to be American. Thus, is the life of a Minority. - Chris Cover Photo Source: Commarts

Dear Asian Youth, Analyzing the media we consume is one of the best ways to discern the collective values of our society. Recently, more and more people have been pointing out the age discrepancy between male and female actors in film and TV. This is well exemplified in a study by Time that examines the relationship between age and desirability in Hollywood. The study used data points of the top five leading actors and actresses from the top 5,000 grossing movies on IMDB, accumulating to a total of 6,000 actors and actresses. Afterwards, researchers looked into every movie that these actors and actresses had appeared in to discern the peak desirability for women vs. men in the film industry. The chart shown below is a compilation of this data. The women are shown in red, whereas the men are shown in blue. While women initially receive more roles, “That trend reverses sharply after 30 as men continue to receive an increasing number of roles through age 46 while women receive fewer and fewer.” Actors are expected to look desirable as part of their appeal. The way that younger women are preferred while older men are still considered attractive is problematic. The typical older man and younger woman trope in Hollywood fully demonstrates this trend. A study by Vulture analyzed 10 A-list actors and picked a representative sample of their films where that actor had a notable love interest. The article itself provides an in-depth analysis of each actor chosen for the study, but the final results confirmed that even as the actor ages throughout the different films they are cast in, their female counterparts remain the same age. In fact, an actress out of her mid-thirties was considered an outlier for most of these men, and the only times when the age gap would lessen was when the female love interest was also an A-list celebrity. Unfortunately, these values are actually quite accurate within our society. Business Insider cites a study from the book “Dataclysm,” created by the book’s author and co-founder of dating site OkCupid, which conveys how women and men differ in the age of those they consider desirable. The data comes from OkCupid. The charts below illustrate this data, by comparing a man’s age vs. the age of the women who look best to him and by comparing a woman’s age vs. the age of the men who look best to her. While the chart comparing a woman’s age vs. the age of the men who look best to her shows a linear relationship, the chart comparing a man’s age vs. the age of the women who look best to him reveals that “Men, regardless of their age, tend to say women in their early 20s look best…” This means that most men between the ages of 20-50 all showed a preference for women aged 20-22. Similarly, The Atlantic analyzes a study by Elizabeth Bruch, a professor of sociology at the University of Michigan, demonstrating that women see their desirability drop off from the age of 18, whereas men peak around their 40s and 50s. One common argument that people make for this discrepancy is that women lose “value” as they age because this reflects a women’s loss of reproductive value (NCBI). Biologically, women are unfit for producing children long before a man is, because the brunt of childbearing is on the women. Furthermore, there are various theories regarding a male’s maturity taking longer to develop and even older men being a symbol of monetary power (Fatherly). While it’s understandable how these arguments would factor into this issue, I believe this discrepancy is more closely tied to the way that society treats women. The harsh beauty standards in our society are specifically directed towards women. While men in our media are allowed to have flaws both inside and out, women are expected to be perfect. This is a direct result of the constant objectification of women in the film industry. The way that Hollywood consistently replaces rising actresses with younger actresses, while their male counterparts are allowed to age, represents a society that commodifies women and reduces their value to the way they look. In the article “Age in Crisis, How Hollywood Killed Female Adulthood,” Natalia Norecka questions, “ Why is a 40 year old man allowed to be merely human onscreen, while she must forever retain her mystical impossibility, a level of ange;-like perfection only attainable by those who have only recently lost their baby teeth?” Additionally, going back to the study posted by Vulture, one of the final analyses was again that the only times when the age gap would lessen was when the love interest was also an A-list celebrity. On the other hand, “in movies that relied solely on our guy’s big name, the lesser-known love interests would nearly always be decades younger.” I believe this idea of finding new lesser-known actors for the love interests shows that women are considered easily replaceable. All in all, bringing awareness to these age discrepancies will force Hollywood to produce more media inclusive to women of all ages that show that women are not objects to be thrown out with age. These tropes and values try to make women feel like they have to tether someone down, before they “lose” desirability. Society needs to acknowledge that these notions are misogynistic at heart and redefine the relationship between desirability and ageing. - Lora K. Cover Photo Source: The New York Times

Dear Asian Youth, There should be no argument that the value of a life is priceless. No one has the right to take life away from another person, regardless of the crimes they have committed. And yet, capital punishment, or the death penalty, is still legal in 28 states. As of January 1st, 2020, there were 2,620 people on death row. Instinctively, one would argue that the death penalty is the most severe form of punishment and should be used only to deter the absolute worst criminals. However, capital punishment is a flawed system, and it is unconscionable that it continues to exist, especially when it doesn’t make exceptions for fallibility. Sentencing someone to death sounds like something from an ancient era—one where people were accused of witchcraft and killed with guillotines. However, just two weeks ago on July 14th, the Supreme Court allowed the Justice Department to carry out a federal execution, the first one since 2003. The constitutionality of the death penalty is highly debated, and ultimately, the Supreme Court gets the final say in specific cases. However, by 2019, 106 countries had completely abolished the death penalty. In fact, most First World nations have abolished capital punishment, and the United States needs to follow suit. Simply looking at it from an economic standpoint, a typical death penalty case can cost up to $3 million, which is significantly more than life imprisonment (about $45,000). Many state studies have been done regarding the costs of the death penalty, and it can be seen that capital cases and maintaining the capital punishment system cost significantly more than cases without the death penalty. Millions of dollars could be saved annually if the death penalty was replaced by life sentences, and this money could be put towards programs that would curb violent crime and drug rehabilitation, like mental health services and child protection services. By focusing on prevention rather than punishment, we can tackle the root of crime and work towards a better criminal justice system. Moreover, our criminal justice system is incapable of protecting the innocent. Since 1973, over 165 death-row prisoners have been exonerated. Research suggests about 4.1% of defendants sentenced to death are likely innocent. In our criminal justice system, there is already a high risk of convicting an innocent person, but this margin of error becomes even more unacceptable when this innocent person could die. Human beings inevitably make mistakes; therefore, it is not fair to give them the power to deliver an irreversible punishment. There is no way to correctly determine how many people sentenced to death may have been innocent, but cases with strong evidence of innocence include those of Troy Davis, Carlos Deluna, Gary Graham, Cameron Todd Willingham, and Larry Swearingen (more listed here). But courts typically don’t consider innocence claims when the defendant has been executed. These people lost their lives and had their names forever tainted by their wrongful execution. If we had abolished the death penalty, and they were all sentenced to life imprisonment instead, many of them might have been pardoned today. The main reason why people tolerate the death penalty is because they believe it is an effective deterrent against crime. However, there is no proof that the death penalty is more effective than life imprisonment. States with death penalty laws don’t have lower crime or murder rates than states without these laws—it has actually been found to be higher. In a 2009 study, 88% of the country’s top criminologists didn’t believe the death penalty discourages homicide. Additionally, 87% believed that the abolition of the death penalty would not have any significant effect on murder rates, and 75% agreed that debates about this distract legislatures from focusing on real solutions to crime problems. Psychologically, people who commit these horrible crimes are not always in a mental state that allows them to logically consider the consequences of their actions. An effective deterrent, then, could be if the punishment was immediate and obvious, but the death penalty is neither of those things. If the death penalty is no more effective than life imprisonment and counterintuitively costs more, why should we keep it? In that sense, it truly serves no purpose. These deadly mistakes that cost the lives of predominantly BIPOC and those without access to legal representation. A defendant’s legal team is crucial to avoiding a death sentence. However, the poor who cannot afford effective lawyers are often discriminated against and very few states provide enough funding for capital defense counsel. Like every other injustice in society, the death penalty favors the guilty and rich over the innocent and poor. Everyone is supposed to be equal in the eyes of the law, but currently, our justice system disregards the poor in favor of the affluent, and sentencing them to death only enhances this disparity. In many states, African Americans are disproportionately represented—they make up only 13% of the population, yet 42% of those on death row and 34% of the executed are African Americans. Furthermore, a review by the U.S. DOJ found that 48% of white defendants were able to avoid a death sentence through plea bargaining, while only 25% of African American defendants and 28% of Hispanic defendants were able to do the same. This difference displays the extensive racism in our justice system; even the worst criminals deserve “to be fairly tried and lawfully punished,” but these statistics show that some criminals can get off easily just by being white. Just 2% of the United States’ counties have produced 52% of all executions and 56% of prisoners on death row since 1976. Over 40% of all recorded executions occurred in Texas, the leading executing state in the country. One reason for this is their low tolerance stance on crime (which leads to wrongful executions) but race also plays a large role in this. Capital punishment is historically intertwined with racial bias as a legacy of slavery and discrimination, and this can be seen especially clearly in Texas. Death sentences are more frequently given when the victims are white than when they are black, and this promotes racial disparities and taints capital punishment. The death penalty is just another way for the justice system to discriminate against the politically powerless, and we need to abolish this outdated practice to progress as a country. The United States is supposed to champion human rights, but the death penalty discredits that claim. It is about time we join the majority of the developed nations in the world and end capital punishment. Unsurprisingly, Trump has repeatedly stated that he supports the death penalty, and the Trump Administration was the one to resume executions after 17 years. What makes that even scarier is that there is currently a Republican majority in the Supreme Court. Conversely, Biden promises to work to pass legislation to eliminate the death penalty at the federal level, replacing it with life sentences without probation/parole. For this reason, it is increasingly important that we vote blue in November. - Erika

My fingers were addicted to flipping each page; the fluttering sound was the only melody on my mind. The library was quiet since it was lunchtime—usually, no one ever hung out here—but it was nice. I was hidden behind the shelves, surrounded by hundreds of books within the vast space. I had opted for creative nonfiction this time, instead of fiction, my normal go-to genre. The book in my hand was about a girl escaping the Rwandan genocide. She was crying now—her younger brother and uncle had died along the way, and now the reality of her world was settling in, pressing closer and closer. My chest felt heavy as she gripped her mother’s hand, squeezing it tightly. I used to remind my mom to squeeze my hand tighter when we were walking to my elementary school. My lunch break was almost over; I had to head back to my internship soon. I stood up, brushing myself off from the carpet floor, and put the book back onto the shelf. I didn’t have enough time to borrow it. Plus, I was focusing on learning about global issues a couple of steps at a time, so that I wouldn’t overwhelm myself like I knew I would. Afterward, I hurriedly rushed through the maze of shelves and headed down the stairs. A yellow flash passed the corner of my eye. I turned to my left, and there it was, a painting of a young girl reading. It hadn’t been there before. She was wearing a bright yellow dress, with feminine ruffles on her sleeves and a bow tie that held up her short hair. The girl was cute, but the painting wasn’t my favorite. “Jean-Honoré Fragonard. He’s the artist.” I turned around. I recognized him: I’d seen him around the library before, chatting with the librarian and reading books on the couches.“I see.” “Do you like it?” “The painting?” “Yes,” he said. I shrugged, pressing my lips together. “I guess.” I glanced at the boy; he didn’t seem pleasantly pleased with my response. “There’s nothing too special about it.” He mustered a small smile. “She reminds me of you.” “I must not be special then,” I responded. “And you barely know me.” The boy smiled. “I’ve seen you around. You seem to read a lot.” I nodded, checking my phone for the time. “I have to go,” I excused myself, pulling myself down the rest of the stairs and out of the library. “I’ll see you around.” He remained there, staring at the painting like it was one of Picasso’s works, one that you would have to stare at for forever to grasp even a percentage of its meaning. But this painting was simple: it was a girl reading. What was there to fathom about that? There were genocides and killings and tortures and lynchings happening as we spoke; why bother paying attention to a painting that told me nothing about the world? / The next Friday, I had forgotten about the weird encounter with the weird boy and headed back to my favorite spot by the largest window in the library, where the light stretched inside as far as it could and warmed my soul despite the library’s cold temperature. I searched for the same book along the long stacks of shelves, my finger dragging along the spines of other books until I reached it. Placing my bag down, I leaned against the shelf facing the window, immersing myself in the girl’s life once more. In this chapter, she was in a foreign country with nothing but minimal belongings and her mother. She had to adjust to this new country and learn of their culture while still comprehending what was left of her own. She was crying, hugging her mother with desperation, attempting to grasp what was left of what she loved. She made sure to squeeze everything extra tightly so that maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t escape this time. She pleaded for everything to go back to the way things used to be until her voice went hoarse. She was just so... so tired of life. Like I was. My right arm was wrapped tightly around my knees, my fingers digging into my shin. My body was shaking, salty tears spilling out onto my pink cheeks, and my lips were trembling. I wished that she could have her own happy ending, but who was I to say anything? I was in this library, safe, my parents alive, my friends by my side. Warm hands touched my own, prying my harsh fingers off of my legs. But I could barely feel anything. With blurred sight, I glanced up to see a boy with deep brown eyes. He was blocking the sunlight from getting into my eyes with his body. “Hey. Hey.” I blinked rapidly while my chest urged for more oxygen, and he bent down to see me eye to eye. “Are you okay?” I hated being seen vulnerable. I yanked my hands out of his. “Yeah. I’m fine.” The crying. The screams. The hate. The shootings. The massacres. The death. The murder. The blood. My eyes squeezed shut, and images raced through my mind, making me feel as if I was spinning in space with no gravity to hold me down, and I imagined it all––the gunshots, the running, the hiding. When did it all end? How did it all end? The world was spinning. Make it stop spinning. Or was I the only one spinning? It was hard to breath. My chest hurt. “Hey.” My eyes opened slowly, letting in the light from the window, and a couple of tears spilled out again. “Are you okay? Is there anything I can do?” I shook my head, silent. I’m fine, I’m okay, I’m perfectly normal. “I’m good.” No, I’m not, I’m scared, I’m confused, and the world is ending. The boy scrunched his eyebrows, uncertain of my answer, but he didn’t want to pry. “Do you want to talk about it?” I shook my head again. I just needed to breathe. “Here,” he said, opening up my palm and placing a folded piece of paper in it. Then he stood up, waving goodbye, and left me all alone. The paper was cold and sharp on my palm. I unfolded it slowly, wondering what lay inside it. It was an image of the painting on the wall. The young girl was reading, but she was beautiful this time. I smiled to myself, not realizing how much the boy’s small gesture had made things a little better. / I stared at the painting of the girl in the yellow dress. She was reading a book, not one that I could interpret, but nonetheless, a book. She was learning something through those words, somehow. I wondered if I could learn, too––to accept that what happened in the past happened and that I can focus on the smaller, more beautiful parts of life. Like this painting. I tugged a piece of my hair behind my ears. I noticed that the library was warmer today—maybe it was the summer heat intruding its way into the glass doors. I held a new book in my hands; this one about a boy with immigrant parents. It was about learning and growth. To embrace what we can. “Hey there.” It was the same familiar voice. I turned around to see him, a book in his hand, hair ruffled. “Hi,” I greeted him. I wanted to explain everything that had happened that day but I couldn't bring myself to say anything. “Do you like it?” he asked me again. I glanced back at the painting, my eyes moving over the girl’s dress and the background. I nodded. “Yeah, I do. It’s beautiful.”

You might have heard the expression: when hell freezes over. The irony lies in that hell is said to be a place of eternal flame, and therefore, will unlikely ever reach freezing point. I am not from Texas, but Southern California provides similar hot and sunny weather conditions. Texas is even hotter as they are closer to the equator than we are. So, for Texas to be quite literally, frozen over? When California was just in flames? A “once in a lifetime” event. Just how many more of these will we live through? Considering the rate we’re going and the lack of climate change initiatives taken around the world by governments and corporations- probably a lot. In itself, climate change and policies can be a whole other article, but it does not take rocket science to know that these events are abnormal and extremely concerning. From ice storms near the equator to a global pandemic that killed more than 100 million people, "once in a lifetime events" have become more terrifying than astonishing. At first glance, some snow does not seem all too bad. Plenty of states have snow. However, Texans are lacking electricity, heat, and water. According to the Washington Post, the storm “ha[s] killed at least 47 people,” as of February 18th, some even as young as eleven. Hypothermia is not even the only cause. As Texans seek warmth, cases of carbon monoxide poisoning are rising; other deaths resulted from fatal physical accidents, by car or on foot. Lack of resources even affected the Hilton Garden Hotel in Killeen, which caught fire and was unable to be put out due to water conservation efforts. Because the pandemic is causing a surge of unemployment, homelessness and evictions are also on the rise The Texas Homeless Network found that “there were 27,229 individuals experiencing homelessness identified through the Point-in-Time (PIT) Count” (2020). In this cold weather crisis, the homeless are arguably suffering the worst. Was any of this preventable? Yes. After the 2011 outages, the Federal Energy Regulatory Commision and the North American Electric Reliability Corporation wrote a report stating that “[m]any of the generators that experienced outages in 1989 failed again in 2011... It is reasonable to assume from this pattern that the level of winterization put in place by producers is not capable of withstanding unusually cold temperatures. While extreme cold weather events are obviously not as common in the Southwest, they do occur every few years. And when they do, the cost in terms of dollars and human hardship is considerable. The question of what to do about it is not an easy one to answer, as all preventative measures entail some cost. However, in many cases, the needed fixes would not be unduly expensive.” They then continue in this 357 page report to make recommendations on how to reduce the risks for the next storm. Furthermore, Texas operates on its own power grid, rather than the eastern and western shared power grids, to avoid the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission's (FERC) electric reliability regulations. After the two major blackouts in 1989 and 2011, how much was actually done to prevent this one? Ed Hirs, lecturer of energy economics at the University of Houston, stated, “‘there were lots of reports and recommendations and lots of people waving their hands,’ but no substantial changes” (Politifact). Hirs made efforts to raise awareness about the Electric Reliability Council of Texas’s (ERCOT) model of distribution in his op-ed with Dr. Paul Macavoy from Yale University. Bills that were proposed to improve infrastructure failed to pass or are pending, such as Bill HB 1963, Bill HB 2571, and Bill HB 1044. So what are legislators doing now? Texas Senator Ted Cruz was seen bringing his family to escape the cold into sunny Cancun, which is ironic because he crossed the border for refuge. New York Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (AOC) raised four million dollars of direct relief and will be visiting Houston. In a FOX News Interview, Governor Abbott blames clean energy sources and articulates that “this shows how the Green New Deal would be a deadly deal.” However, Abbott was disproven. According to senior director at ERCOT, Dan Woodfin, ‘“it appears that a lot of the generation that has gone offline today has been primarily due to issues on the natural gas system”’ (Texas Tribune). Power is slowly coming back to Texas, but at a huge cost. Residents are left with absurd bills, as wholesale prices reached “$9,000 per megawatt hour — compared to the seasonal average of $50 per megawatt hour” (NBC News). What can we do? For Texans, being more conscious of local politics is essential. For the rest of us, we have to continue to raise awareness and fight against climate change. Making jokes about Texas because they are a red state is insensitive and unempathetic. Senator Ted Cruz returned back to Texas after social media outrage over his leave. Thus, our voices and attention are necessary in ensuring legislators take proper action. Again, just how many more of these “once in a lifetime” events will we be forced to live through? What will it take to actually incite proper responsibility and reform in this country? It appears that with global warming causing a rise in temperatures, hell has actually frozen over. Places to Donate: - Texas Weather Crisis Assistance Master Doc - https://secure.actblue.com/donate/aoc-social-20210218/?refcode=aoc-social-20210218-7pmtweet - https://www.homelesshouston.org/donate - https://aaul.org/ - https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/genericItemsPage/3T6EFA7V284IL?viewType=list&ref_=wl_share Petition: https://sign.moveon.org/petitions/investigate-ercot-now Cover Photo Source: https://abcnews.go.com/US/video/abc-news-live-update-texas-crisis-winter-weather-75975106

Dear Asian Youth, On the journey to appreciating my South Asian roots, one of the biggest obstacles I faced was embracing my “cultural” name. While this might sound like a simple task to you, my name has always been a point of frustration in my life, with people constantly mixing up the pronunciation, associating my name with other words, and spelling my name wrong on countless letters and documents. I have always been aware of such errors, and now that I am reflecting on how much pain these mistakes have caused me, I realize how much pent-up jealousy I had for those with much more “simple” names, and the amount of hate I had for my own. I also never saw the connection between my annoyance for my name and how I felt about my culture, which was a part of my identity I would hide. These past few months, I have been able to meet other people who share a variety of colourful names, and I have come to the realization that my frustration should not be directed at my name, but rather to the people who mispronounce and misspell it. My name is Prerna Kulkarni (prer-naa kul-car-nee), and I have been mistaken for a Prema, Prena, Perna, Purma, Prerana, Pearna (yes, like the fruit), and Pruna Kulkami. While I am not one to become sensitive over trivial topics, my name is important to me and it is a part of my identity. My name inspires me and encourages me to be comfortable with who I am. It tells me that I don’t have to “blend in.” Looking back, I realize that I had gotten to the point where I would let people pronounce my name wrong and pass the incorrect pronunciation onto other people. I would simply laugh it off. I would think to myself: it’s only a joke—don’t make such a big deal about it. Sometimes, I would hear my peers make fun of the pronunciation of my name, and if I displayed that I was upset, they would tell me that they were “just kidding.” I wondered to myself that if they were “just kidding,” why was I hurting inside? Now as I reflect upon this situation, I wish I had defended my thoughts more. I realize that in the future, if something makes me uncomfortable, I should be confident in myself and express how I feel. It wasn’t just my peers, however—adults would also mix up the pronunciation of my name. I’ve had teachers hand me assignments with my name crossed out in red ink and rewritten on the page’s left-handed corner. If this had occurred only once in the beginning of the year, I would have merely shrugged it off. However, this happened repeatedly throughout my middle and high school years. The purpose of this letter is not to call out everyone who has pronounced my name wrong, but to spread awareness on what my name means to me in the same way your name has a meaning to you. In Hindi, my name translates to “inspiration,” and once I learned this, I realized that my name is pretty, colourful, and so deeply cultural. When I close my eyes, I can envision my name—I can see the pink, orange, red, and green powdered faces during the Hindu festival of Holi, a celebration of colours that rejoices new beginnings by marking the transition from winter to spring. I can hear the words of Mahatma Gandhi ringing in my ears: “Be the change that you wish to see in the world.” I can feel the pride raising the hairs across my arms. After years of planning how I would go to court and change my name to one with a simpler spelling and pronunciation, I now understand how special my name is, and how I should not change myself to fit the standards of other people. I see the constant mispronunciation and misspelling of my name as a direct blow to the culture that has raised me to become the person that I am today. I am tired of people telling me that my name would sound better with an extra ‘a’; that it would be easier to remember if they didn’t pronounce one of the ‘r’s. I am frustrated when people try to associate my name with a more common one; deciding to call me “Brianna” or “Raina” instead of “Prerna.” I wish I realized earlier that I am the only one who has power over my identity. And to the people who I have heard such things from: my name belongs to me. And the word “me” does not include the letter ‘u.’ As a my-name-is-not-on-a-keychain type of person, I am completely aware that my name might look and sound complex. However, if you dedicate one minute of your time into learning the pronunciations and spellings of names, you would not only receive much more respect from me, but from every other person you’ll meet later on in life. Your effort shows your appreciation for that person and their culture and is similar to saying the words, “You are valid too.” I have noticed that, while stereotypes and labels have become prevalent in today’s society, a name is more than a word that people call you by. Your name will never dissolve into a category or a standard. Your name will always be a unique and special part of your life, which is why it is something to take pride in and celebrate! And to all the people with “difficult” names reading this: do not let yourself be put down because others are not aware of the spelling and pronunciation of your name. Instead, educate them. There are billions of names across the world, all unique, all valid, and all defining of our identities. Now that we are in a time where our individualities should be expressed more than ever, never let a person take control of who you are and how you pronounce or spell your own name. You are a strong and beautiful human, and the only way to facilitate a positive mindset is to appreciate the parts of your identity that are undoubtedly you, starting with your name—an attribute of yourself that deserves all the love in the world. - Prerna Kulkarni