What's so funny?--Matthew

 

Winter is Coming!!!!

 

Hello 2024 and Welcome Back!!

It sure is cold out these days. Yet, it is perfect weather to cozy up these next couple of months to enjoy reading our Winter Collections of Writers.

For this month we have 12 submissions.  We have quite a few Abstract Ideas, a Book Review and a Flash Fiction for your reading pleasure.

Make sure to read ALL!  Choose the ones you wish to leave feedback.  Remember that this Blog space is a safe space. Be kind, loving and comforting with your comments.

If you are a writer, you do not have to complete the assignment.

Your comments are due to our Canvas Discussion Board by Monday, January 22nd.

We will meet up here later in the month for the January Collection.

Love and Hugs,

Mrs. Solano

Imposter Syndrome--Najm

 

“Are you sure that you’re ready to skip the eighth grade?” my middle school principal

asked. All of the eyes in the room stared into my soul as if they were trying to extract an answer

from my silence. I looked to my parents for guidance but heard nothing. Even though I was only

a seventh grader, I would have to take control of my own future.

I knew that this was the perfect opportunity for me to advance my education. Up until

that point, each weekday felt the same: I would go to school, rot in my chair as the teacher spent

hours teaching something I had already understood in the first few minutes, go home, finish my

homework in under an hour, and play Super Mario video games until dinnertime. You may roll

your eyes when I say this, dear reader, but the monotony of my life trapped me in a prison and

left me with no sense of purpose. By skipping a grade, I would finally break out of that prison

and find something to struggle for.

However, a dark question lingered at the back of my mind: was I really deserving of the

abilities that allowed me this opportunity? Since I was a small child, everyone always talked

about how God had blessed me with the gift of intelligence. It was only at this point that I started

questioning why He had done it. What did God see in my character that led Him to grant me this

gift? I wanted to explore this question further, but a gentle nudge from my mother brought me

back to my principal’s question. I responded with a “yes,” and everyone in the room cheered. It

was set in stone: I would start my freshman year at Etiwanda High School in the fall after

seventh grade.

Little did I know that those questions formed the fertile soil that permitted the seed of

impostor syndrome to plant itself inside of my mind. Perhaps God didn’t give me the gift of

intelligence; rather, the devil deceived myself and others into believing so. This seemed like the

only logical conclusion to me since I couldn’t think of a reason why God wouldn’t give it to a

more deserving person. I started to believe that, if I fell for the devil’s delusion, God would

expose me as a fraud for my arrogance. This paranoia was worsened by others calling me the

“smart kid;” while it seemed like a compliment to an outsider, it piled on psychological pressure

in my mind and deepened my fear of being exposed as a fraud. When I saw smiles on the faces

of the teachers that handed me awards, I wondered when they would turn into disappointed

frowns. I also became afraid of getting to know others since they only seemed like more people I

would let down one day.

The supposedly powerful mind that got me here in the first place now made me believe

that I had no right to stay. Of course, there was no going back to the previous grade; my

circumstances were now permanent. I spiraled into a dark period of self-conflict, unable to

decide how to move forward. One thing kept my hope afloat, however: helping others with

classwork. For some inexplicable reason, I lit up whenever someone called my name to assist

them with solving a math problem or understanding a scientific concept. The joy I would feel

when a peer finally moved past their cloud of confusion far outweighed any self-doubt I had.

Eventually, this desire to enlighten others moved beyond academic borders; I started teaching

others how to use the awesome technology of 3D printing that was available in our library and

proofreading position papers for my Model United Nations teammates.

As I helped more students out in new ways, I found that the darkness clouding my mind

began to recede. The true answers to those self-doubting questions I had asked myself finally

came to me. Before I even realized it existed, God had seen my intrinsic drive to help others

succeed and imbued me with the power of intelligence so that I could achieve my goals;

therefore, I was deserving of my accomplishments and abilities. The weed of impostor syndrome

that had matured in my mind now burned away in the blazing fire of my reignited soul, never to

be seen again. I was finally free.

Perhaps the most interesting part of this story is the fact that the answers to my doubts

were present from the beginning. In Arabic, my name means “the star of guidance;” though it

seemed coincidental, it actually served as a prophecy of the person I would eventually become. If

I had chosen to listen to the doubts that once poisoned my mind and not skip a grade all those

years ago, I would have never fulfilled the purpose foretold by my name. With a better

understanding of who I’m meant to be, I now aspire to use my power for the advancement of

humanity one day. Whenever I feel like giving up, I remember the mission that God gave me: to

serve His creation, and to serve it well.

Comparison--Sherry

 

I’m browsing on Instagram, and amidst my scrolling, I pause on a post of a girl on my feed. I find myself studying her; her hair shines like silk running down her back, her lips curl into a sweet, dimpled smile, and she’s standing in front of a beautiful view, one that completes her post perfectly. I notice that this pattern repeats in all of her pictures, and I think to myself: if I looked like that, maybe I wouldn’t have the problems I have now. The thought sinks from my head and weighs down onto my chest, and I feel a looming sense of inadequacy. 

Our 26th president once said, “Comparison is the thief of joy.” Yet, we do it more than we want to. The destructive form of comparison is an insidious predator that claws at our self-esteem and prompts us to chase an ultimately unattainable ideal. Seeing someone who excels in aspects we lack causes us to be hyper-aware of our shortcomings. Because of this, we experience feelings of incompetence and insecurity, as if nothing we do will ever be good enough. Although I am well acquainted with its consequences, it remains one of my most unhealthy habits. If I am naturally smart like him, maybe I wouldn’t have to study for hours on end just to receive the same score as those who spent that time sleeping. If I am as pretty as her, maybe I wouldn’t be picking apart my features every time I look in the mirror. If I am more accomplished like them, maybe I wouldn’t have to listen to my parents fawn over just how successful and impressive their friend’s Ivy League-bound child is. All of these thoughts have plagued my mind at one point, and I have let them (shamefully) consume me, leading me to plummet to considerably low points in my life. 

With time and numerous nights of overthinking, I have embraced through the hard way that longing for qualities out of my control will have no effect other than lessening my self-worth. Wishing I was smarter won’t give me better grades. Yearning for someone else’s beauty won’t change my own appearance. Instead of comparing myself to others, I found it more beneficial to compare myself with, well, myself. What are things about me that I can control? How can I hone them into traits I can be confident in? What are the steps I need to take? Instead of wishing I was accomplished, maybe I should broaden my horizons and set clear goals on doing so. Instead of desiring better grades, maybe I should experiment with more efficient study techniques. Developing such a mindset has compelled me to reflectively consider my flaws and concentrate on my abilities to improve them. Since then, I have gained a more positive insight into comparison. In this direction, I strive to be someone who is accepting and content with herself, someone who is grateful for her strengths and receptive to her faults.

I still fall victim to the comparison game sometimes. Talking about ceasing the act is way easier than actually committing to the bit. But for now, I am proud to share that my progress improves little by little one step at a time.

Fear--Zahirah

 

It was a ordinary Friday, as me and my family embarked on a trip to Las vegas where I looked forward to

indulge myself in all the festivities and spend time with my family. After a very entertaining weekend it

was time to return home. The car ride back was calm, echoing with laughter and voices of me and my

sister singing songs together, until a sudden jolt that altered the car ride. My gaze shifted towards my

siser, whom I saw vomiting next to me. I felt completely blank all of a sudden. Although I have been

surrounded my this before, emptiness rendered my mind and all I felt inside me was an overwhelming

sense of fear. My stomach began to knott with anxiety, I felt waves of panic approaching, and my body

prohibited me from moving to go and help my sister. April of 2018 marked my biggest hit of anxiety,

worries, and fear. I became desperate to escape the reality in front of me that I sought refuge in my

headphones, hoping music would drift my fears and take away the dreadful pain of watching what my

sister was enduring. I expected things to be back to normal the next day. Although it wasn't. Little did I

know that this one experience catalyzed a series of fears unraveling throughout my life. My fears sparked

me to become afraid of the unknown, overthinking, and distanced me from where I was being valued.

Being a mere 12 year old, I grappled with these emotions and tried to navigate through them with a

consistent lack of understanding. I attempted confiding to my mother, but she had been sick for a long

time, and my father was taking care of her. My thoughts and emotions spiraled constantly within the

confines of my mind.

As I tried to keep my emotions hidden I noticed they would sporadically increase in each situation I was

placed in. My middle school years had been chracterized by a share of toxic friendships and the process of

figuring out where I stood. Unlike previous years where I was able to navigate through difficulties with

ease and a carefree mind, this new vulnerability had exacerbated my fears of the most littlest things in

life, causing me to question my self worth, and struggling to silence the negative voices in my head. In

my home my parents remained oblivious to my struggles and I found myself getting lectures constantly

and being misunderstood.

According to Merriam Webster Dictionary, fear was defined as “an unpleasant often strong emotion

caused by anticipation or awareness of danger”. However my fears extended beyond danger, I had this

relentless emotion of anticipation of the future and the unknown, as this casted a shadow on every

circumstance I encountered. And this caused me to develop my major fear. Change. Change disrupted the

sense of stability I craved. We know that change is inevitable, but how could I keep telling myself that

when I was constantly surrounded by it? The pivotal fear of change occurred when I was moving from

Los Angeles to Fontana. I believed that my whole life was in LA. I had my school and family friends, I

was content living in our condo, I had everything I truly desired around me. I felt the fear of change while

changing schools, making new friends, and adjusting to a new area. The idea of not being able to know

my future outcomes had me worried, deeming with the expectation that I would only become overtaken

by failure and I could never be content again.

If I could have any superpower, I would always say to go back in time. Because if I went back in time

then I could change myself and my actions so I wouldn't be facing difficulties, right? Although what good

does it do us to dwell on the past and the mistakes we wished we could change? It is those experiences

that shape us to who we want to be today, a ccatalyst for personal growth. I soon understood that change

was for the greater good. I feared it, but change was the one aspect in life that was always constant. I was

able to freely express my emotions to my parents and communicate with them, as they helped me each

step of the way. Recognizing that progress lies on the other side of discomfort and accepting change,

became a necessary ability for me to endure. It entails adjusting our viewpoint to see transitions as

opportunities for self-discovery and development rather than as impassable struggles. Seeking support

from friends and family, created an environment in which my worries could be freely addressed and help

could be offered. I developed a mentality that embraced setbacks as part of the learning process and

establishing reasonable goals. Through communicating my emotions, embracing change, and learning to

improve my mindset, fear became my stepping stone in life and I was able to live freely with an ongoing

journey of growth.

What is Beauty?--Jaedyn

 

Perseverance--Michelle