For many of you, school has ended and summer has begun. What school will look like in September lingers in the background while you finally take a break from Zoom and extra planning and effort to connect with your students and their families.

There are endings and beginnings for me, too. At the end of June, due to budget constraints, we are scaling back the YES! for Teachers program for the foreseeable future, and I will be leaving YES!

Going forward, YES! for Teachers will focus on offering discounted subscriptions to teachers, and you will still have access to online resources for teaching social justice, sustainability, and respect, and empathy. A monthly newsletter to keep in touch is planned, as well. Unfortunately, we will not host the National Student Writing Competition competition in the fall. Remember that YES! shares powerful stories every day! Our writers and editors are working triply hard at this moment to help you navigate these especially tough times with explanatory pieces, commentary, and how-to stories.

While I don’t know about what the long-term future holds for the YES! for Teachers program, I do know what we accomplished together was significant. I loved my work for many reasons. At the center, it was because I got to connect with you and your students in meaningful ways.

I am especially proud of:

Our student writing contest. We’ve hosted 25 contests with over 35,000 students writing essays in response to prompts, such as “What is your gift?” “Is hunting moral?” “Describe your position on the Constitution-Free Zone” and  “Are you willing and brave enough to stand up to injustice?” Through this writing opportunity, I have helped students come out publicly, alleviate the stigma of depression and mental health, and embrace their racial, sexual, and individual identities.

Our tough topic discussion guides. These guides were created to have deliberate conversations on topics that are uncomfortable but necessary to discuss. Topics such as anti-Blackness, #MeToo, decolonization, and mass school shootings.

Our visual learning lessons. Abstract images were used to cultivate visual literacy and to dive deeper into understanding issues, such as the refugee crisis, the importance of bees, and housing foreclosure.

Our teacher stories. In their own voices, teachers shared their stories about discovering the beauty of teenagers, being a first-year teacher, connecting children and elders through permaculture, and other tales about their teaching—and what they learn.

I’ve had the great fortune to partner with incredible organizations along the way. These folks have excellent social justice resources that will push your teaching. A special shout out to Institute for Democratic Education in America, Institute for Humane Education, Rethinking Schools, Teaching for Change, Voice of Witness, Teaching Tolerance, and Zinn Education Project.

To your students: I believe in you. It was an honor to give you space to share your ideas, opinions, and voice. Thank you for trusting your teachers—and me—when we posed tough questions that had you venture to unknown territory and to other places that set you free. I am grateful that you are more accepting of all people than any generation and don’t have the patience to wait for adults to make this a better world. We need you now!

And, in closing, beloved teachers: Thank you for taking this journey with me. When I started with YES!, it wasn’t unusual for a teacher to tell me that the magazine sent to her school was mysteriously missing or that the cover was ripped off. Today, fewer of you are hiding your copies of YES! and, instead, are openly using our stories and lessons to help your students think critically, become problem-aware and solutions thinkers, and personally connecting to the world.

Have a wonderful summer!

With gratitude, solidarity, and every best wish,

Jing Fong
Education Outreach Manager
YES! Magazine

Lots of things may keep students up at night or make them anxious—from grades to fitting in to climate change, mass shootings, and hate groups. The author, who’s also the director of Healing Justice Podcast, reached out to Alicia Garza, co-founder of #BlackLivesMatter, to help guide us into the new year. Garza reminds us that “Clarity inside of chaos can help us find direction when it seems like everything around us is unstable.”

Download lesson as a pdf

YES! Article and Writing Prompt

Read the YES! article by Kate Werning “Alicia Garza: How to Prepare for 2020“

Writing Prompt:

Option One: Think about what keeps you up at night or gives you anxiety. Now, imagine yourself feeling liberated, joyful, boundless with possibilities.  As you begin a new decade and a new year, what might you accomplish in your wildest dreams? Describe the steps you would take to make this vision become your reality.

Option Two: Think about what makes you anxious or worried about living in America. Now, imagine yourself feeling free, safe, able to thrive.  As you begin a new decade and a new year, what in your wildest dreams do you wish for your community or this nation? Tell us about the steps you would take to get you closer to realizing your dream.

Writing Guidelines

The writing guidelines below are intended to be just that—a guide. Please adapt to fit your curriculum.

· Provide an original essay title

· Reference the article

· Limit the essay to no more than 600 words

· Pay attention to grammar and organization

· Be original. provide personal examples and insights

· Demonstrate clarity of content and ideas

· This writing exercise meets several Common Core State Standards for grades 6-12, including W. 9-10.3 and W. 9-10.14 for Writing, and RI. 9-10 and RI. 9-10.2 for Reading: Informational Text.*

Evaluation Rubric

Sample Essays

The essays below were selected as winners for the spring 2020 YES! National Student Writing Competition. Please use them as sample essays or mentor text. The ideas, structure, and writing style of these essays may provide inspiration for your own students’ writing—and an excellent platform for analysis and discussion.

Looking Back to Move Forward by Theo Cooksey, grade 8. Read Theo’s essay about lifting his head back up to restore his bigger-than-life personality, build that forge, earn his Eagle Scout rank, and no longer be the kid who internalized everything.

Turning Flowers to Trees by Kira Walter, grade 10. Read Kira’s essay about her wishes for a world where we can connect and where America’s youth doesn’t have to contemplate whether it is better to live in the light or commit suicide in the darkness.

Woman with No Nation by Athina Amanor, university. Read Athina’s essay about fighting negative stereotypes, speaking “American” too fast for her Ghanaian relatives, and wishing for a community in which she doesn’t feel the need to prove she isn’t a threat and where being her is enough.

A Borderless World by Sary Barrios, grade 10. Read Sary’s essay about being a child of immigrants who are forbidden from seeing their mothers in Guatemala and her wish that families would be united and everyone would live without fear of someone searching for them.

In My Eyes by Avery Chase, grade 11. Read Avery’s essay about living with the pain of a rare disease called Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS).

Fighting the Undertow by Daniel Cook, university. Read Daniel’s essay about his plans for no longer being a gay male victim in the Deep South and taking action to be seen as an equal instead of as an “other.”

Can I Dream? by Maitreya Motel, grade 8. Read Maitreya’s essay about escaping the nightmares of school shooting and instead dreaming about being kids again without the weight of the future on their shoulders.

We have six stories in a variety of media—from print essay to podcast to comic book zine. Our hope is that they will inspire your students to recognize positive actions in their communities—and this nation—and ask, “What can I do?”

I appreciate the students and teachers who took the risk and participated in this pilot project while grappling with distance learning. To you and your students, thank you Cassidy Carlotto (Mount Anthony Union Middle School), Taylor Dietz (Salish School of Spokane), Abby Franks (Morey Flextech High School), Keith Lewison (Cape Cod Academy), Lindsey McGann (Arcadia University), Gheni Platenburg and Nan Fairley (Auburn University), Kristen Re, Eli Rosenberg (Main Street Middle School), and Don Simmons (California State University-Fresno).

SOLUTIONS STORIES

Drug Addiction Powerfully Affects Cape Cod Residents: This is How Amanda McGerigie is Helping to End This Epidemic (Abbie Catalano, essay)

Cuffed in the Statehouse: How One Vermont Student Stood Up for Climate Action (Sarah Greene, Meg Voisin, podcast)

Miles for Change (Grace Acosta, Addy Hubbard, Alexis Lambert, Eva Schofield, comic book zine)

Northwest Auburn Housing: Solutions for Keeping Neighborhoods Rooted and Strong (Hannah Werner, Natalia Salvatore, video)

Combating Climate with Joy (Danielle Anton, Anna Maphis, Hazel Merluza, Elena Schatell, podcast)

8 Ways to Preserve Beloved Northwest Auburn (Melanie Hughes and Elizabeth Hurley, story map)

Drug Addiction Powerfully Affects Cape Cod Residents: This is How Amanda McGerigie is Helping to End This Epidemic

By Abbie Catalano

In the last decade, drug addiction has become a more life-threatening crisis for residents and families in Cape Cod. According to the Massachusetts Department of Public Health (MDPH), there were 445 opioid-related overdose deaths in Barnstable County from 2010 to 2018. The epidemic is especially disturbing in the town of Yarmouth. Yarmouth suffered an increase of drug-related deaths—the opposite of the state trend.

Since 2006, the Duffy Health Center has been leading Cape Cod in evidence-based opioid treatment services. Amanda McGerigle MSW, LICSW, is an embedded therapist for the Duffy Health Center’s Medication Assisted Treatment Program.With the opioid epidemic destroying the lives of our young community, we are in desperate need of a solutionary, and this is where Amanda comes in.

Abbie: What are some of the reasons people become addicted to drugs?

Amanda: I see some people who legitimately were given a prescription for pain medicine because they came from the dentist, and then what happens is they develop a chemical dependency where their body wants it all the time, and then you get psychologically dependent as well. There is another sort of group of people who either had some trauma, or something happened along the way in their lives where they felt like they weren’t good enough, and for whatever reason the drug makes them feel complete.

Abbie:  What kinds of treatment does the Duffy Center offer?

Amanda: We offer a treatment called Suboxone, and that comes in different doses, and it’s a film that goes under your tongue, we also offer a Vivitrol shot, and that’s every 30 days. We also offer something called Naltrexone, which is a pill, which helps block the receptor that makes you want to drink. Suboxone is the most common one, and it helps dull two of the receptors instead of just one, and it stops the cravings. We like for people to have some sort of behavioral health component, whether it’s individual therapy or group therapy.

Abbie: How were you inspired to work in this field?

Amanda: I know that a community is really as strong as it’s young workforce, and I’m watching this epidemic wipe out people that are my age and younger, so what inspired me was to be able to give back to the community.

Abbie: Have you ever made a difference in someone’s life that you will never forget?

Amanda: Just recently, I had someone call me from a local establishment, they had been drinking for a very long time, and they were feeling suicidal, and I called the police… and three weeks later after they had been to treatment, they came back and said “Thank you for saving my life.”

Abbie: What would you say to the people who think drug addiction is not a disease?

Amanda: I often say to people who don’t like it when I use the term disease that it is a chronic relapsing brain disorder. Once you put the chemical in your body, you lose the power of choice, because your brain and body start making the choice for you, all they want is the drug.

The Duffy Health Center’s unique approach to recovery from opioid addiction should be modeled across the country. At the Duffy Center, patients can receive medications, healthcare, and therapy to discover the roots of their drug addiction under the same roof. Amanda told me “I love working for the Duffy Center because people come in here with nothing, and they leave with something, whether it’s insurance or hope.” This is a powerful statement because Amanda has the ability to transform someone’s life.

I chose the topic of drug addiction because I wanted to learn about one of the most deadly problems that is affecting the younger generations of Cape Cod. Amanda McGerigle is a solutionary who goes to work every day and saves lives. She taught me what it means to give back to the community. Her hope and belief that every patient will recover is inspiring.

Abbie Catalano is an eighth-grader at Cape Cod Academy, in Cape Cod, Massachusetts. Abbie is a competitive dancer with Dance Designs Company and loves to spend time sailing and boating with her family and friends. She is interested in pursuing a career in medicine.

Cuffed in the Statehouse: How One Vermont Student Stood for Climate Action

A podcast by Sarah Greene and Meg Voisin

Montpelier High School sophomore Carmen Richardson-Skinder says that Vermont state officials have known about the impact of fossil fuels for decades yet have not substantially reduced carbon emissions. The Vermont Youth Lobby member isn’t afraid to take direct action, including civil obedience, when legislators don’t listen to facts.

Sarah Greene is an eighth-grader at Main Street Middle School from Montpelier, Vermont. Sarah loves to longboard, and she plays soccer and basketball. In her free time, she likes to listen to music and hang out with her friends.

Meg Voisin is an eighth-grader at Main Street Middle School in Montpelier Vermont. Meg enjoys outdoor activities, including mountain biking, playing soccer with friends, cross country skiing, and any fun adventures with friends and family. She also loves trying new spicy foods.

Miles for Change

A comic zine by Grace Acosta, Addy Hubbard, Alexis Lambert, and Eva Schoefield.

Through a partnership with the Philadelphia District Attorney’s Office, kids in the juvenile justice system can join MileUp to have their restitution paid and their criminal record cleared. MileUp is not just about running. It’s also about having a mentor to support kids through a difficult stage in life.

Click here to read the comic book zine Miles for Change

Grace Acosta is pursuing a dual master’s degree in public health and medical science at Arcadia University. Grace is passionate about public health issues, especially as they relate to social justice. She hopes to use her career as a medical provider to address public health issues in medically underserved areas and also raise awareness for health inequities.

Addy Hubbard is pursuing a master’s degree in public health and medical science as a physician assistant at Arcadia University. Addy is interested in addressing upstream issues in healthcare as a clinician and empowering youth to make healthy decisions.

Alexis Lambert is a graduate student at Arcadia University, graduating with a Master of Public Health. Alexis hopes to use her education to help rebuild the infrastructure of public health to better serve population-level health needs following the COVID-19 pandemic. Outside of class and work, she is planning her wedding.

Eva Schofield is pursuing a dual master’s degree program in public health and medical science at Arcadia University to become a physician assistant. Eva is interested in preventative healthcare, particularly to promote healthy environments, lifestyles, and decision making within communities.

Northwest Auburn Housing: Solutions to Keep Neighborhoods Rooted and Strong

A video by Hannah Werner and Natalie Salvatore

Residents of Northwest Auburn are concerned that they will be displaced from their homes as they see student housing and other signs of gentrification moving closer to their neighborhood. One way that city of Auburn Community Services director Al Davis wants to preserve Northwest Auburn is by improving the existing housing inventory.

Hannah Werner is a recent graduate from Auburn University, where she majored in public relations and psychology. Hannah is originally from Lincolnshire, Illinois where she now resides with her family and dog.

Combating Climate Change with Joy

A podcast by Danielle Anton, Anna Maphis, Hazel Merluza, and Elena Schatel

Joy Bergey was 15 years old on the first Earth Day. Her civics teacher took the class to protest at the dirty local power plant, and Joy was horrified at what she saw. Today, she volunteers for Ready for 100, an effort to get elected officials to commit to 100% clean electricity by 2035.

Danielle Anton is a graduate student at Arcadia University, pursuing a dual Master’s degree in Public Health and Medical Sciences. Danielle aspires to become a dedicated physician assistant, specializing in dermatology. She enjoys spending what little free time she has outdoors or curled up with a good book. 

Anna Maphis is pursuing her Master’s in Public Health and her doctorate in physical therapy at Arcadia University. Upon finishing her graduate degrees, Anna plans to work as a physical therapist specializing in geriatric care. She hopes to one day settle down in the mountains of Eastern Tennessee and surround herself with furry friends.

Hazel Merluza is a graduate student at Arcadia University, pursuing a dual Master’s in Public Health and Medical Sciences. Hazel hopes to become a compassionate physician assistant specializing in nephrology. She spends what little free time she has sewing, specifically up-cycling clothing. 

Elena Schatell is a student in Arcadia University’s Dual Master of Public Health/Master of Medical Science in Physician Assistant Program. Elena aspires to work as a public health physician assistant in underserved communities.  She is passionate about advocating for world peace, environmental justice, spending time outdoors, and letting loose in dance class.

8 Ways to Preserve Beloved Northwest Auburn

A story map by Melanie Hughes and Elizabeth Hurley

Like many historically Black communities across the nation, Northwest Auburn, a neighborhood beside Auburn University, Alabama’s second-largest public university, has been subject to gentrification, erasure, and diminution. Community members have several preservation efforts underway to make sure their beloved community is respected and remembered.

Click here to explore Northwest Auburn’s preservation efforts

Melanie Hughes is an Atlanta native and recent graduate of Auburn University, where she majored in Creative Writing and minored in Journalism. Melanie believes deeply in the power of every person’s story and desires to uplift valuable voices with authenticity, creativity, and empathy. You will likely find her outdoors with a cup of coffee in one hand and a camera in the other.

Elizabeth Hurley is a recent graduate of Auburn University with degrees in journalism and political science. Elizabeth is working toward her masters in public administration and hopes to use her education to work in local and state-level government to better government transparency initiatives.

Through a partnership with the Philadelphia District Attorney’s Office, kids in the juvenile justice system can join MileUp to have their restitution paid and their criminal record cleared. MileUp is not just about running. It’s also about having a mentor to support kids through a difficult stage in life.

This is one of “6 Student Stories on Change-Makers in Their Communities” created for the YES! Solutions Project. Click here to explore the other stories.

Grace Acosta is pursuing a dual master’s degree in public health and medical science at Arcadia University. Grace is passionate about public health issues, especially as they relate to social justice. She hopes to use her career as a medical provider to address public health issues in medically underserved areas and also raise awareness for health inequities.

Addy Hubbard is pursuing a master’s degree in public health and medical science as a physician assistant at Arcadia University. Addy is interested in addressing upstream issues in healthcare as a clinician and empowering youth to make healthy decisions.

Alexis Lambert is a graduate student at Arcadia University, graduating with a Master of Public Health. Alexis hopes to use her education to help rebuild the infrastructure of public health to better serve population-level health needs following the COVID-19 pandemic. Outside of class and work, she is planning her wedding.

Eva Schofield is pursuing a dual master’s degree program in public health and medical science at Arcadia University to become a physician assistant. Eva is interested in preventative healthcare, particularly to promote healthy environments, lifestyles, and decision making within communities.

For the spring 2020 student writing contest, we invited students to read the YES! article “Alicia Garza: How to Prepare for 2020” by Kate Werning. Alicia Garza, co-founder of #BlackLivesMatter offered this advice, “Clarity inside of chaos can help us find direction when it seems like everything around us is unstable.” Lots of things may keep students up at night or make them anxious. Students wrote about what they might accomplish in their wildest dreams for themselves or for this nation—and the steps they would take to make this vision a reality.

THE WINNERS

From the hundreds of essays written, these seven were chosen as winners. Be sure to read the author’s response to the essay winners and literary gems that caught our eye.

You can hear four students read their winning essays on the Irresistible podcast. Be prepared to be inspired! Thank you to author and Irresistible’s founding director Kate Werning for sharing these powerful stories.

Middle School Winner: Theo Cooksey

High School Winner: Kira Walter

University Winner: Athina Amanor

Powerful Voice Winner: Sary Barrios

Powerful Voice Winner: Avery Chase

Powerful Voice Winner: Daniel Cook

“Can I Dream?” Winner: Maitreya Motel

From the author Kate Werning: Response to Essay Winners

Literary Gems

Middle School Winner

Theo Cooksey

Brier Middle School, Brier, Wash.

Looking Back to Move Forward

I’ve never really looked at long-term goals for myself, as Alicia Garza suggests in the YES! article “How to Prepare for 2020” by Kate Werning. Other than my goal of reaching Eagle Scout before I turn 18, I tend to live day to day. I’m 13, so shouldn’t I just, well, be a kid? Isn’t goal planning and future planning something adults do? To be honest, when I read the article and learned what the topic was, I locked up like a clam. Sharing dreams of how I could positively change the world makes me uncomfortable. Why would I open myself up to that level of critique, especially in middle school? Although I would love to see advancements to reduce the effects of climate change and uneven wealth distribution, I can’t visualize myself impacting these issues right now.

This led me to wonder why I stopped thinking about my ability to influence the future in a way where anything is possible. What made me narrow my scope and start looking down, rather than seeing my potential? I believed I couldn’t possibly change the world if I could hardly impact myself. If you’re always working hard at fitting into a world by other’s standards, how do you have time to dream of your possibilities? This made me ask, “When did I allow this box to contain me?” When I realized I wasn’t accepted as myself.

When I was young, I possessed an immense personality that couldn’t be contained. I was a giant, perpetual motor hurling questions, wanting answers, always moving. However, over years of school, my personality withered, and my motor followed suit. Going from a storm to no more than a summer breeze, my motor was barely able to push paper. Why did that happen? I quieted my voice, so I wouldn’t be told I was too loud. I suppressed my motor, so I wouldn’t be told to stop moving. I spoke less so I wouldn’t constantly be told to stop talking and stop interrupting. 

After spending so much energy shrinking my personality, I hardly had time to look up and think about what I wanted to do. How do I get back to looking up and out into the world? I believe that this assignment has given me the chance to start doing just that. As I uncoil the past, undo the steps and remember the moments that quieted and contained me, stole my voice, and seized my motor, I am determined to recreate what I lost. I will slowly rebuild my motor into an impervious hurricane that will break out of the box that limited me. My opinion will not be hidden from others.

As I lift my head up, I will start with the small things and my familiar spaces. For me, these are working on what affects me directly, like school and what I enjoy outside of school. I will build the forge in our backyard with my dad to pursue blacksmithing together. I will continue to hone my skills in archery. I will dust off my trumpet and give myself the chance to hit the high notes. I will earn Life Scout rank to put me one step closer to Eagle Scout. By keeping my head up and moving forward with a plan, I no longer need to be the kid who internalized everything.

Becoming a better me now, at 13, will make me a better person who may just be able to influence climate change and build a more equitable wealth distribution system when I get older.

Theo Cooksey, an eighth grader from Lynnwood, Washington, is an avid reader and video game player. Theo plays the euphonium and trumpet, and is an expert in Star Wars movies and music. During the COVID-19 quarantine, he is learning to bake and is building a forge.

High School Winner

Kira Walter

Mamaroneck High School, Mamaroneck, N.Y.

Turning Flowers to Trees

 Maybe we used to be trees. Rainforests of friendly monsters, scraping the sky, communicating, and reaching the sun. Maybe roots used to run where we couldn’t see them, connecting us to each other and spreading through the world like telephone lines across our continent. But somehow, though the earth stayed warm and the rain fell on our soil, we evolved from trees into flowers. Flowers alone in our own empty fields, roots too short to reach anything. 

At a high school with over 1,000 students, I notice how we pass each other on the street, in the hallway, lucky if our eyes meet for a moment, if our hearts touch for a second. We are isolated. Although I hope for a world where none go hungry, where violence is absent, where rivers breathe with cold clean life, and wild creatures run through lush green forests, I first hope for a world where we can connect. A world where America’s youth doesn’t have to contemplate whether it is better to live in the light or commit suicide in the darkness. 

My wildest dream for this nation is that people will reach out to those suffering, to America’s youth whose second leading cause of death is suicide. It was not too long ago that a friend approached me about trying to take her own life; she locked herself in a bathroom filled with poisonous gas, waiting for her breath to go soft and blow out like a candle in the wind. We had always been distant, but she chose to share her secret with me because she had no one else to share it with.  

According to the Jason Foundation, 3,069 high schoolers in the U.S. attempt suicide every day. Among this group, four out of five leave clear signs of depression. So why do so many signs, such as drug use, sleep shortages or extreme mood swings, go unnoticed? The answer is isolation. People are so separate from each other that the chances of being discovered are nearly impossible. Although many try to ascribe teen suicide to the pressures of excelling both academically and socially, overcoming these obstacles can be easier than they seem. Easier as long as students have someone to support them through struggles. 

Many teenagers who take their lives are members of healthy families and are surrounded by friends, but they feel as if they can’t share their troubles with them. They fear that this would be a burden on those they care about and so they remain silent. Teens let dangerous secrets collect like water droplets in a jar. One day, this jar reaches its capacity, problems overcome them, and alone, they surrender. In Kate Werning’s YES! article “How to Prepare for 2020,” Alicia Garza explains that “clarity inside of chaos can help us find direction when it seems like everything around us is unstable.” I dream our community will teach suffering teens to find that clarity – that we will help them blossom on a path to success. 

In modern-day society, too many people shame others for attempting suicide. They identify them as troubled and accuse them of being too weak to deal with life’s challenges. To combat suicide, I’ll make sure to do the opposite. I’ll reach out, check in with, and cheer up my peers. I’ll try to comfort those in need of comfort. Because in an ever-changing world of frightening dangers and darkness, we need to be trees with roots linked together in harmonious peace. We need to support each other into a new decade, out of the shadows and towards the sun.

Kira Walter is a sophomore at Mamaroneck High School in New York. Kira writes for the school newspaper and plays on the varsity tennis team. She has enjoyed studying classical piano since she was five years old and volunteers for the American Legion in her free time. When she grows up, Kira aspires to continue her passion for writing.

University Winner

Athina Amanor

Spring Hill College, Mobile, Ala.

Woman with No Nation

“You sound like a white girl.” “You’re an American baby now.” “Wow, you actually speak very good English.” “Did you live in a tree?” 

As a Ghanaian immigrant living in the United States, I’ve heard it all. Statements from my own family members living back home and from friends I’ve made in this foreign land serve as reminders that there really isn’t a place for me. I’m too American to be African, yet I am too African to be American. Even college professors have laughed while a fellow student mocked a group of African languages by clicking his tongue at me and asking,  “What did I just say in your language?” disregarding my offense and reinforcing ignorance. Many of my anxieties and doubts about self-worth stem from these types of interactions. I have adapted, self-monitoring to the highest degree, in order to be more palatable and to fit in. 

As an outwardly appearing “African American,” I fight negative stereotypes when interacting with white people, striving for excellence in both academics and athletics and hoping to outrun stereotypes and shatter prejudices. Within the African American community, I appear as a poser. I walk, talk, and think too differently to be welcomed there either. For my relatives, I speak too “American,” too fast, and I stress all the wrong syllables. I’ve carefully created so many personalities, slipping out of one skin and into the next to appease others, that I hardly recognize my true self. So, when I hear words like,” go back to your country,” a tidal wave of confusion hits me. Sometimes I wish I could, but I know the same alienation I feel here would be waiting for me in Ghana because I would still be seen as an outsider. I am a woman with no nation. I worry about being viewed as second class, about not being awarded the same rights and freedoms, about losing my culture, and about losing irreplaceable familial relationships. 

So, what in my wildest dreams do I wish for this nation? I wish for acceptance. I wish for understanding. I wish for kindness and an egalitarian mindset for all. I wish for the extinction of xenophobia and the predominance of support. I wish for a community in which I do not feel the need to prove I am not a threat, where my culture is not a trend, and above all else, where being me is enough. My wishes may seem far-fetched and on par with beauty queens claiming to want nothing more than world peace, but I am aware that I must make efforts on my own behalf and not simply put wishes out into the world.

In this new decade, I continue to fight for my dream by working with refugees and  building bridges between them and other volunteers as both groups work together to create a safe space filled with the same friendship and sense of belonging that I’ve craved for myself. I continue to make strides towards my dream by rejoicing in differences and staying open to immersing myself in new experiences without judgment. I continue to make leaps in my effort to make my dream a reality by engaging in intercultural, interreligious, and interracial dialogues, fanning the flames of mutual understanding.

And, as I look at the next ten years, I plan to make bounds towards realizing my dream by doing something we all struggle to do in life:  to discover who I am outside of the carefully curated personalities I put on and give that person all the support and acceptance I so willingly give to others yet constantly deny myself. This new decade demands that I stop viewing my self-ascribed status as a woman with no nation as weakness, and make way for the potential it holds. 

Athina Amanor is a Ghanaian immigrant who recently completed her undergraduate coursework in cellular and molecular biology. As a recently retired student-athlete, Athina enjoys staying active by taking long walks, going for short runs, and playing tennis with her older brothers. She hopes that her concern for the human condition and openness to helping others serve her well as she pursues a career in pediatric cardiology.

Powerful Voice Winner

Sary Barrios

Mamaroneck High School, Mamaroneck, N.Y.

A Borderless World

As I walk into the kitchen, I see both of my grandmas stirring the masa and my mom putting the tamales de carne on the stove and cutting different fruits to boil in the pot for caliente. It’s Noche Buena and my dad, my siblings, and I are hanging ornaments and lights. At the bottom of the tree, we arrange the Three Wise Men and the animals on one side, Mary and Joseph on the opposite side of each other, and place Jesus in his manger at the center of them all. Lastly, we put the star on top of the tree, and turn on the beautiful lights. At 8 p.m., we gather around the table to eat. We pray to God for all the good things he has brought to us in the past year. Then, we pass the tamales de carne around, talk about our family in Guatemala and how they’d decorate their tree with clementines and light fireworks at Christmas, and laugh at my brother’s jokes. Everyone is together in one place, one day, one moment. But that’s all a dream.

Instead, it’s only my parents and me at the table. Some people are able to see their family every single day or at least once a week, but my parents are forbidden to see their relatives. They went through a lot to get here, and they’ve never gone back to Guatemala. While they are grateful for the opportunities here, the borders they crossed are like a cage, keeping them from seeing their loved ones. So when I dream of a better future, I dream of a world without borders.

These boundaries keep our families apart. A few months before I was born, my dad received a call: my grandpa had passed. My dad had a hard time dealing with not being able to see his father during those last few days he was alive. This was devastating. I see other kids with their siblings, playing soccer, bonding, and telling each other jokes, but I only see my siblings every two years if I’m lucky. I can’t imagine how I would feel if my siblings were here. I know I wouldn’t feel as lonely as I do now. 

It’s not easy to be a child of immigrants, feeling scared every second of your life, and constantly thinking about “what ifs.” Last summer, when I was at camp in Maine, miles away from my parents, immigration police arrived on my first day. I wasn’t allowed to contact anyone, and I had a meltdown. It was heart-wrenching to think about being separated from my parents, and yet these borders have stopped my parents from doing the same—seeing their mothers forever. Can you imagine not being able to see your mother?

A borderless world is like an eagle soaring through the sky, completely free. In a borderless world, families would be united and everyone would live without fear of someone searching for them. In her YES! article “Alicia Garza: How to Prepare for 2020, author Kate Werning says, “We are often called to reflect on our lives, and how we want to mobilize for ourselves and our communities.” I often reflect on this beautiful dream that one day our world would be borderless, a dream that I will fight for.   

At the camp in Maine, I learned about the Hawaiian word ohana. Ohana is the spirit of family togetherness. It means that no one is ever going to be forgotten or left behind; they are stuck with each other no matter what. Ohana can also mean “nest,” which is where birds go to be safe with their families. Just like birds, immigrants want to be with their families in a safe space. Everyone together in one place, one day, one moment. 

Sary Barrios is a Guatemalan American student at Mamaroneck High School. Sary’s passion is to help others and give back to those who are in need of more. She has a huge love for her heritage and family.

Powerful Voice Winner

Avery Chase

Kirkwood High School, Kirkwood, Mo.

In My Eyes

There is a French photographer who said: “I will never be able to take a picture as beautiful as I see it in my eyes.”

Complex regional pain syndrome (CRPS) is a rare disease—there are less than 200,000 patients in the U.S. I was a competitive gymnast at nine years old. At a tournament,  I awkwardly dismounted from the bars and landed on my ankle. That moment changed my life. For the next eighteen months, I saw six doctors, four therapists, and three psychologists, took three  trips to different pain clinics, and missed about 100 days of school to search for answers to “the sprained ankle that could.” I was one of the “lucky” ones. That summer was a revolving door of experts dismissing me one after another.

The pain I experienced was beyond my ankle. I understand that I grew up differently, that most kids don’t divide their family moving cross-country for chronic pain rehabilitation. I have been living with CRPS for nine years—with a brief remission circa seventh grade—and a prognosis of “years to a lifetime.” Some days I’m better at accepting what I know and what I don’t. Other days it’s easier to lie in bed complacent to the pain. No matter what type of mindset, I must constantly strive to recover and hide disappointment every day that wasn’t pain-free. Outsiders haven’t seen the pictures I’ve seen—not through my eyes. Outsiders don’t know what it’s like to watch a 70-year-old squat better than you or realize that the only “record” you hold is “Longest-Stayed Patient,” not “Highest All-Around Score” in a gymnastics meet (where I really wanted to be).

It’s difficult to paint a picture of when my body physically shakes uncontrollably. My eyes scan it slowly, realizing my helplessness. Or the picture of mornings I wake up with a split lip after having habitually chewed it. Or the days I wish I wasn’t a breathing mortgage for my parents. Or the nights I spend praying for the safety switch, trusting my body will scientifically pass out if pain exceeds a threshold. There are still stories that I can’t tell and stories I don’t want to remember.

In psychologists’ offices, I go mad trying to cling onto any word I can to describe my pain, and, too often, I fail. In my wildest dream, I’m able to paint the masterpiece that finally allows people to understand the years and tears. Currently, I am trying for a picture-perfect life. I’m taking steps to overcome my highest anxieties by listening to doctors, pushing through compulsions, getting out of bed, and challenging cognitive distortions. I am living the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. I know that the steps to overcome Chronic regional pain syndrome don’t necessarily mean a pain-free life. I can’t change the existence of the problem itself, but I can change the way I deal with the problem. In my wildest dream I can accept myself and whatever I accomplish, even if it is not perfect.  I can learn to accept that CRPS and everything it comes with will always be a part of my life, my disappointments, and my triumphs.

The pain translates to today. Every day, I make decisions based on that gymnastics meet nine years ago and the hundreds of hours of doctor’s appointments and clinic visits throughout the years. I wonder who I’d be if I skipped gymnastics that night. If Boston is simply a city with smart colleges, not just medical treatments. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to understand a life without my pain. What I do understand though is that being healed won’t change me. I know how it has influenced me, but I doubt I will ever stop learning either. For that reason, my life is a life with CRPS, with and without pain. I am who I am because of these experiences and the circumstances I have yet to face.

Avery Chase lives in St. Louis, Missouri, the city with the most neurotic weather in the country. Avery coaches gymnastics in her free time and has an irrational fear of cats. She plans to attend Kansas University and study social work.

Powerful Voice Winner

Daniel Cook

Spring Hill College, Mobile, Ala.

Fighting the Undertow

Have you ever been caught in an undertow? Imagine swimming through waves—feeling the cool rush send a shock through your body— when a force begins pulling you away from the shore. You try swimming back to the beach but feel the current’s grip dragging you farther out to sea. After a minute, your arms and legs begin hurting. You start choking on water as you gasp for air. You attempt to yell for help only to be choked on by more water. Your mind is in a state of panic as your body begins shutting down. Suddenly, you remember what your parents told you, “Swim parallel to the shore.” You turn and start swimming again. Every muscle screams in agony, but you keep fighting. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, the force stops. Relief floods your mind. You slowly swim to the shore and crawl onto the sand. Falling flat on your back, you breathe peace back into your soul. 

Life is full of undertows. Today we are faced with so much political and social injustice that many people feel as if they are caught in an undertow of emotions. I was caught in this particular undertow for a while. As a gay male living in the Deep South, I have struggled with finding my place in society. I have often asked myself questions such as  “Who do I want to become?,” “What do I stand for?,” and “How can I help others?.” With the start of the new year, I have decided it is time to face these questions. 

I am an activist at heart. It is my purpose. With the help of the YES! article “How to Prepare for 2020” and Alicia Garza, I was able to pinpoint objectives that I should focus on instead of aimlessly treading through life, being swept further away from my goals. I want to be able to hold my husband’s hand in public without eyes glaring in our direction. I want to have a place of worship that accepts me. I want to be able to enroll my children in school without the fear of them being bullied for having gay parents. I want a job without having the fear of being dismissed because of my sexuality. I want to be seen as an equal instead of as an “other.” And most of all, I want to live in a world where I don’t have to fear being murdered like Matthew Shepard. 

In order to achieve all of this for myself and people like me, I have to be more active. The article helped me outline steps I can take within the next year to help myself and others in the LGBTQ+ community. These steps include getting involved with a local LGBTQ+ activist organization, getting trained in how to provide safe spaces for people to freely discuss issues affecting them, and reading more literature and research on LGBTQ+ issues while  making these resources more available to the public. If I can conquer these steps, I will have made 2020 worth wild. 

2020 is the year I have decided I will no longer be a victim of the undertow. By focusing on my goals and following steps to achieve them, I will have the knowledge and ability to get out of the treacherous current of fear and anxiety about being who I am. I will no longer drown in the self-doubt accompanied by not knowing what I stand for. I will glide through the waters of hate and social injustice and hopefully arrive one day on the shores of equality, love, and acceptance. 

Daniel Cook is a proud gay man. Daniel was born and raised in Alabama and embraces his Southern roots while also advocating against the social injustices around him. He wants to use his privilege to help others have their voices heard and dreams of a world where all lives are valued and no one is considered an “other.”

“Can I Dream?” Winner

Maitreya Motel

High Meadow School, Rosendale, N.Y.

Can I Dream?

How do you dream in a nightmare? How do you solve a puzzle when half of the pieces have been stolen? I remember being barely twelve years old when the shooting happened at Parkland. My dad held onto me like I would vanish any second, sobbing while we listened to the news. 

When you’re 12 years old, you’ve thought about death a lot in theory, but rarely in a way that’s grounded in reality. You normally aren’t considering, “Oh, it could happen like this. Someone could have a gun and you could be in the bathroom at the wrong time. Someone could have a gun and your sixth-grade classmates could sneeze at the wrong moment. Someone could have a gun and shoot you. And you won’t be able to say goodbye to your mom and dad or tell them how much you love them. When’s recess?” 

I guess kids used to dream about being movie stars and star football players and millionaires. Now, I look around and we’re praying to make it through high school. And beyond that? Will the planet be liveable? Will our kids be okay? We want answers and guarantees. Are there any guarantees anymore? Our dreams are survival based. How much can you dream before waking up again? 

But I do have a dream.

My dream is to have the luxury of dreaming. My dream is to live in a world where what matters most is that new movie or first date. My dream is for us to be kids again instead of feeling like the future is on our shoulders. If I lived in this world, I could breathe again. Maybe, just this once, I’d get to sleep.

Maitreya Motel, an eighth-grade student at High Meadow School in New York, has been writing and producing her political Vlog “Eye On Politics” since age 10. Maitreya has been a featured speaker at women’s marches, climate change events, and political rallies, and is a member of her town’s youth commission and her county’s climate-smart commission. Her best pals are her two rescue dogs, Jolene and Zena. 

From the author Kate Werning: Response to Essay Winners

Dear Theo, Kira, Athina, Sary, Avery, Daniel,  Maitreya,

Thank you so much for sharing your writing with all of us (and some of you have shared your essays in your own voice on the podcast, too!). It takes guts to be real and vulnerable in public—to share your struggles and to be audacious enough to have dreams & compelling visions in a world where there is so much suffering.

At Irresistible, we believe that healing and social transformation are deeply connected— and that a critical foundation for both is radical honesty. To face where we feel vulnerable and afraid and powerless. Where we’ve been humiliated, shortchanged, discriminated against, or told to give up. To really feel into those places, because our deepest truth is what connects us and can become the source of our greatest power. We have to be real with ourselves about what hurts and scares us most, and connect with others’ heartbreaks and fears to move in a journey toward change together.

I see that courage in each of you. Avery, we feel you so deeply when you say “It’s difficult to paint a picture of when my body physically shakes uncontrollably. My eyes scan it slowly, realizing my helplessness.” Athina, we connect when you talk about feeling like a “woman with no nation.” Theo, I remember when I’ve been there too when you say “Sharing dreams of how I could positively change the world makes me uncomfortable. Why would I open myself up to that level of critique, especially in middle school?”

Yet despite the discouragement and pain, you still have big dreams—and I want to live in these worlds you are visioning! Maitreya’s world, where kids “have the luxury of dreaming.”Sary’s “borderless world [that] is like an eagle, soaring through the sky, completely free.” Daniel’s world where he is “able to enroll [his] children in school without the fear of them being bullied for having gay parents.” I want to follow your leadership and the leadership of youth organizers all over the country—you truly are “Generation Transformation.”

As Kira paints for us, “Maybe roots used to run where we couldn’t see them, connecting us to each other and spreading through the world like telephone lines across our continent.” I see each of you growing those intertwining roots through your commitments to working with refugees, volunteering with your local LGBTQ+ activist organization, and training your bodies and minds toward your goals.

Especially now, as 2020 is turning out so completely differently than any of us could have imagined, the moves you are making toward your visions are critical. I’ve often felt like my hard work trying to contribute to liberation movements has been futile, that the world is getting crueler in so many ways. But I also remember that even though I’m only 32 years old, I am amazed at how much has already changed radically in my lifetime— toward a world of more racial justice, immigrant rights, LGBTQ+ & gender liberation, disability justice, and so much more. It does get better.

adrienne maree brown teaches us that in every small action we take, we shape change. Even under the intense conditions we currently face, this remains true. With our big visions as a strong north star, we find the next right move we can make toward freedom.

Keep dreaming, keep taking action, and keep sharing your story with powerful honesty. I’m right next to you on the journey.

—Kate Werning

Literary Gems

We received many outstanding essays for the spring 2020 Student Writing Competition. Though not every participant can win the contest, we’d like to share some excerpts that caught our eye:

My wildest dreams would be a world filled with non-judgmental people, self expectations—not anybody else’s expectations of me—being me and loving it, less school stress, and, of course, free puppies!
—Izzy Hughes, The Crest Academy, Salida, Colo.

I want to imagine a place where I can go wherever I want without having to worry about another person violating my body. No one should ever touch another person without their permission. That is what I want. 
—Ruby Wilsford, Goodnight Middle School, San Marcos, Tex.  

Type 1 diabetes is not a choice or a result of poor life decisions. It is an autoimmune disorder in which the body attacks itself. How can Americans justify that it is acceptable to pay seventy-two times the worth of a life-or-death product?
—Elise Farris, Spring Hill College, Mobile, Ala.

I was born on April 26, 2005, in a hospital in Appleton, Wisconsin, the home of the first hydropower plant and the “world-famous” Harry Houdini Museum. Then, at age three, my family moved to Beloit, Wisconsin, a town on the board of Wisconsin and Illinois. My parents sent me and my siblings to a Catholic school 12 miles north in a town called Janesville, Wisconsin. It was like living in two cities at once. My family lived in one and my friends and their families lived in the other. I thought the situation was fine, but as I got older, I started to notice things. I noticed how my friends felt uncomfortable when we went anywhere else in Beloit besides my house. I noticed how adults grimaced when I said I was from Beloit. And, suddenly, I felt my situation wasn’t fine.
—Charlotte Mark, Craig High School, Janesville, Wis. 

Pandemics happen when we fail to be aware of how interrelated we really are—when we fail to note the doors we open, the hands we shake, and the spaces we share every day. Mindful of these connections, we realize that the health of one of us affects the health of all of us. We must care for our fellow beings, even if it means personal sacrifice.
—Donald Wolford, Kent State University, Kent, Ohio

I can help others, but I also need to know what to do when dark thoughts manifest in my own mind.
—Natalie Streuli, Brier Middle School, Brier, Wash.  

If I’ve learned anything in the past 13 years, it’s that things never go as planned. Having a rough draft of your life is okay, but never expect it to turn exactly how you imagined.
—Emerson Reed, The Crest Academy, Salida, Colo.

There are about 40 million food-insecure people in the United States and 13 million of those people are children … I want these people to go to sleep full and knowing that they will get another three meals tomorrow.
—John Francis, Our Lady Star of the Sea, Grosse Pointe Woods, Mich.

… I was floating, levitating in midair when the voice began slowly whispering. His voice washed over my body like warm sunlight on a summer day. “This is what inner peace feels like. You tried your best and did the most you can, but to achieve this, you must continue on.” He disappeared and the world collapsed on itself. I was motivated to do better but now looking back I wish I had started sooner.  
—Nicholas Tyner, American School of The Hague, Wassenaar, Netherlands

Failure isn’t a dangerous monster we should run from. It is a beautiful seed of a flower yet to blossom.
—Jarrod Land, Mamaroneck High School, Mamaronec, N.Y.

I’ve yet to figure out how to complain about my perfectionist nature without it sounding like a twisted form of bragging. As it turns out, whining about being tired of trying so hard just makes it look like you’re fishing for praise. Ironically, you rarely get either. 
—Claire Beck, Kirkwood High School, Kirkwood, Mo.

I can never talk to my parents about my feelings directly because what goes into the pot is an argument and what comes out is unsolved problem soup with a side of tears.
—Tracee Nguyen, President William McKinley High School, Honolulu, Hawai’i

I’m not exactly sure what I want to be when I grow up, but I am certain that it’s not going to require me to know how to find points on a graph or to understand slope intercept form, well at least not to the point that I need to study the subject for months on end, and why do I need to know how to find the cubed root of a six-digit number on paper? Who doesn’t have access to a calculator?
—Lauren Ragsdale, Lincoln Middle School, Ypsilanti, Mich. 

I can’t truly say how many nights I’ve spent tossing and turning because something was crawling around in my head. The anxiety smothering any free thoughts I had, forcing me to stay awake, and to start questioning every choice I’ve ever made. Those nights are always the hardest considering who I want to be: somebody who believes without fear of judgment, somebody who loves who they are, somebody who helps without prompting.
—Daniel Heineman, Kent State University, Kent, Ohio

Even for non-Black people with dark skin, such as Indians and Filipinos, some of the racism they experience is rooted in anti-Blackness. There’s also colorism, a type of discrimination in which lighter skin is privileged over darker skin, that exists among people of the same race or ethnicity. Non-Black communities have negative stereotypes about Black people, and these communities will distance themselves in order to maintain some level of power.  

In this “Let’s Talk About” edition, we provide resources to help educate your students about how anti-Blackness shows up in our everyday lives and how it is erased from public discussion. By having a clearer understanding of the root of much of the racism in this country, we can be better equipped to dismantle harmful structures and institutions. 

NOTE:  Talking about racism can be uncomfortable. There may be students in your class who may feel self-conscious or vulnerable if there is a discussion about anti-Blackness and how dark-skinned people are treated in society, including your school.  Proceed with care and sensitivity. You know your students best. Scroll down for “Some Tips for Talking About Tough Topics.”

How to Use This Collection

Suggested below are steps to a thoughtful and meaningful discussion with your students about anti-Blackness and its impact on their personal lives and in society. Choose what is appropriate for your class.

1. Have students complete a pre-survey (optional).
2. Choose at least one YES! article and another site’s article for a robust compare-and-contrast activity. 
3. Use the discussion questions—or craft your own—to gauge your students’ understanding and opinions.
4. Have students complete a post-survey (optional). 
5. Explore the suggested curriculum if you’d like to dive deeper.

Some Tips for Talking About Tough Topics

We recognize that talking about tough topics—such as race, immigration, and, even fat-shaming—with your students may be uncomfortable, not necessarily age-appropriate—and may not even be allowed in your building. 

Good conversations are deliberative.  They encourage reflection, understanding of different voices and perspectives, and respect for complexity. They also take time.

Devin Hess of UC-Berkeley’s History-Social Science Project is passionate about “deliberative dialogue.” Rather than debate an issue, deliberative dialogue has students exploring a topic together from multiple perspectives. Eventually, students may gain clarity on their personal opinion, and the class may even come to a resolution.

How might you and your students have a deliberative dialogue?

Provide a safe environment.  If you choose to have this discussion, it’s important to provide a safe environment where students can voice their opinions honestly without fear of being judged or silenced. In your discussion space, while you may wish to welcome controversy and passion, be careful that this energy does not spill over to “othering” students and out-of-control vitriol.

Keep the armor off. Think about making these discussions about discourse, rather than debate. As John Esterle of The Whitman Institute explains, one enters discourse with vulnerability and their armor off.  They listen with the mindset that they might change their minds. Whereas one enters a debate with their armor on. They listen to prepare their rebuttal and to win the argument, not to understand.

Allow students to explore issues from different stakeholders’ perspectives. Your students can get to clarity by understanding the experiences of the people who are affected by the particular issue. Have them assume the mindset of the stakeholder to gain introspection and empathy—even if it’s a point of view they would disagree with or can’t relate to.

Be careful of the questions you ask. You don’t want to invite topics or specifics that target or insult someone in your classroom or feed into fake news frenzy, such as “The Holocaust is a hoax.” Think about the conversations you don’t want in your classroom—this depends on your students. Do ask questions that get all students talking and diving deeper into understanding.

Shut down conversations that are hurtful and ignorant. When the conversation strays to hurtful and perpetuating ignorance, reconnect dialogue to the content.

Bridge divides with key questions. Your students can take a position and still appreciate other perspectives. When the room is boiling with disagreement, ask your students: Where is there common ground? What are the aspects of the divide? Why is there no compromise?

Own your politics responsibly. There’s an assumption that teachers need to be neutral. Not true. Take responsibility for your position and share it, when appropriate, professionally and respectfully. Look at the issue beforehand and provide direction for a positive, deliberative discussion.

Resources for guidelines on difficult and deliberative conversations:

Deliberative Discourse Planning Guide (UC-Berkeley History-Social Science Project)

Preparing Students for Difficult Conversations (Facing History) 

Civil Discourse in the Classroom and Beyond Teaching Tolerance (Teaching Tolerance)

Reading Materials

YES! Articles

Racial Profiling and the Loss of Black Boyhood

3 Things Schools Should Teach About America’s History of White Supremacy

Confederate Statues Have Been Invisible to Most White People

It’s Not Just the South: How Everyone Can Resist White Supremacy

My White Friend Asked Me on Facebook to Explain White Privilege: I Decided to Be Honest.

Outside Articles

Getting Killed By Police is a Leading Cause of Death for Young Black Men in America (Los Angeles Times)

Anti-Blackness in Preschool Classrooms: Combatting Conditioning Early to Save Our Kids (The Black Youth Project) 

Shades of Black: How Readers Responded to Our Series on the Colorism Taboo (The Guardian)

This article is part of The Guardian’s “Shades of Black” series that explores the roots and impact of colorism—discrimination faced by darker-skinned people, often from within their own community. 

Curriculum

Teaching for Black Lives (Rethinking Schools)

Sample chapters and lessons, plus teaching materials related to Teaching for Black Lives, a book published by Rethinking Schools, that grows directly out of the Black Lives Matter movement. Click on “Additional Resources” to access free Teaching for Black Lives resources.

Discussion Questions

1. When was the first time you were aware of the color of your skin? Describe how you saw yourself when you realized that other people—even within your own race or ethnicity— had a range of light to dark skin. If you feel comfortable, share an example of when you experienced colorism.
2. What is anti-Blackness? How are some ways that anti-Blackness present itself in America and in non-Black communities of color? 
3. What are unique challenges Black people face in society, different from Indigenous and other people of color? 
4. What does White supremacy have to do with anti-Blackness? 
5. Describe how you can push back against anti-Blackness within your friend group and your family, school, or community. 

Like what you see? Discover discussion guides on other tough topics.

Most often, newspaper and magazine readers take a quick glance at photos and their captions. With this YES! lesson plan, you and your students can luxuriate—and pause—to truly understand an image, its message, and why it’s interesting (or not)

Download this lesson as a PDF.

Step 1: What do you notice?

Ask your students to make sense of the photograph by trusting their instincts of observation and inference. In doing so, the image offers possibilities and interpretations beyond a typical reading where the reader glances at a photograph to reinforce its title or caption. Do not introduce any facts, captions, or other written words. In response to the question “What do you notice?” you may hear: light blue coral-like pieces linked in four separate strands, lime green sprigs, fuzzy texture, red and black tree or tassel shapes, a gray circle made of loops close together. 

Step 2: What are you wondering?

After you’ve heard your students’ first observations, you may hear a peppering of questions:

It looks fuzzy, but does it feel fuzzy? Did someone make this? Is it knitted fabric? Is this real or a symbolic representation?

This is a good time to reveal the photo’s caption and other information about the photo. Watch how the conversation shifts from what they believe to be true to discerning the facts about the photo.

Photo Caption:

The 3D rendering of this coronavirus model was created with consultations of a certified geneticist. 3D structural models and function annotation for proteins encoded by the genome of 2019-nCoV, which is the novel coronavirus causing the COVID-19 pneumonia. (Gray color) Virus membrane (Red and purple color) Surface glycoprotein spike protein: attaches the virion to the cell membrane by interacting with the host receptor, initiating the infection. (Blue color) Packages the positive strand viral genome RNA into a helical ribonucleocapsid (RNP) and plays a fundamental role during virion assembly through its interactions with the viral genome and membrane protein (Green color). Plays an important role in enhancing the efficiency of subgenomic viral RNA transcription as well as viral replication. (White color) RNA (Green color) Component of the viral envelope that plays a central role in virus morphogenesis and assembly via its interactions with other viral proteins. (Flower shape) Plays a central role in virus morphogenesis and assembly. Acts as a viroporin and self-assembles in host membranes forming pentameric protein-lipid pores that allow ion transport.

Photo Facts:

• There are many types of coronaviruses. COVID-19 is a new disease that was first identified in Wuhan, China, in late December. In February 2020, the World Health Organization announced COVID-19’s official name: ‘CO’ stands for ‘corona,’ ‘VI’ for ‘virus,’ and ‘D’ for disease. Coronavirus and COVID-19 are being used interchangeably; both refer to the name of the disease that is caused by the virus severe acute respiratory syndrome coronavirus 2 (SARS-CoV-2).
• According to the Center for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), the virus is thought to spread mainly between people who are in close contact with one another (within about 6 feet) and through respiratory droplets produced when an infected person coughs or sneezes. These droplets can land in the mouths or noses of people who are nearby or possibly be inhaled into the lungs. It also may be possible that a person can get COVID-19 by touching a surface or object that has the virus on it and then touching their own mouth, nose, or possibly their eyes, but this is not thought to be the main way the virus spreads.
• COVID-19 is classified as a global pandemic because it is a person-to-person spread of a disease that causes significant illness and death on an exceptionally broad worldwide scale. The last pandemic was the H1N1 virus in 2009. As of Monday, March 30, The New York Times reported that according to official counts, the coronavirus pandemic has been detected in at least 171 countries, has ickened more than 741,100 people, and at least 35,818 people have died from the virus. It is rising fastest in the U.S., the U.K, Germany, Italy, Spain, and Iran. There are coronavirus cases in all 50 states, with the most number of counted cases in New York, New Jersey, and California.
• One public health strategy to slow the growth of coronavirus is “social distancing”—when people maintain at least 6 feet apart from each other, and large gatherings or events, such as sports events and weddings, are canceled.  Other distancing examples include school closures and working from home. The benefits of staying at least six feet away from people are that individuals will be less likely to get the coronavirus and that the spread will slow down or “flatten the curve” so that hospitals have space and enough supplies to treat COVID-19 patients over time, not in one mad, overwhelming rush.
• Covid-19 Mutual Aid USA is a grassroots volunteer group focused on coordinating local care for self-isolating people who need support during the pandemic. The national network connects at-risk and vulnerable people (elderly, disabled, quarantined without pay, undocumented, queer,  Black, Indigenous and/or people of color, and those with compromised immune systems and mental health conditions) with local community groups that offer assistance with buying and picking up grocery and pharmacy items, counseling, and more.
• Toilet paper has been one of the most hoarded items during the coronavirus pandemic. The U.S. has mass-produced toilet paper since the late 1800s. Today, there are almost 150 U.S. companies making toilet paper. This country imports very little toilet paper —less than 10% of total supply in 2017, and most of it from Canada and Mexico.

Additional Resources:

LISTEN: Trevor Noah Interviews Dr. Anthony Fauci, director of the National Institute of Allergies and Infectious Disease, about COVID-19 (Comedy Central)

EXPLORE: Just For Kids: A Comic Exploring The New Coronavirus (NPR)

VISIT: Coronavirus Timeline: Tracking the Critical Moments of COVID-19 (NBC News)

SIMULATION: Why Outbreaks Like Coronavirus Spread Exponentially, and How to Flatten the Curve (The Washington Post)

SOCIAL JUSTICE RESOURCE: Speaking Up About Racism Around the New Coronavirus (Teaching Tolerance)

Step 3: What next?

1. By this time, most schools are closed, large gatherings including March Madness, weddings, and funerals have been canceled, and in many cities, all but essential businesses have been closed.  How has your life been impacted by coronavirus? What are you doing to prevent the spread of the coronavirus? Describe what it’s like to “attend” school online—and what you’re missing about going to school.
2. How do you feel about not being able to go anywhere you want, when you want? How are you staying connected with family and friends? What are you doing to stay physically and mentally healthy?
3. Every day, every hour—print and online news, social media, podcasts—we are inundated with stories and information about the coronavirus. Where are you getting your news and learning more about COVID-19? How do you determine what news is reliable?
4. What changes have you seen in your community? Have you noticed people buying lots of supplies such as toilet paper? What are you and your community doing to support those who are vulnerable or who have lost their income, maybe even their business or home?
5. There has been an escalation of harassment against Chinese Americans and other Asian Americans since the coronavirus pandemic was detected in Wuhan, China. A new website, Stop AAPI Hate, now tracks these attacks. In the site’s first eight days, it received more than 650 reports of discrimination. What do you think of these racial attacks? What do you think is at the root of this bigotry?

For comprehensive information about COVID-19, please visit the Center for Disease Control

YES! Media has daily news on COVID-19. Be sure to read our coverage on the virus—and how communities are responding—here.

In this “Let’s Talk About” edition, we provide resources to help your students honestly reflect on their biases toward fat people as undesirables and to get them talking about fatphobia and fat-shaming as systems of oppression that we need to collectively resist. 

How to Use This Collection

Suggested below are steps to a thoughtful and meaningful discussion with your students about fat-shaming and its impact on their personal lives and in society. Choose what is appropriate for your class.

1. Have students complete a pre-survey (optional).
2. Review the glossary to establish a baseline of understanding terms used to describe fat people and the bias they face. 
3. Choose at least one YES! article and another site’s article for a robust compare-and-contrast activity. 
4. Use the discussion questions—or craft your own—to gauge your students’ understanding and opinions.
5. Have students complete a post-survey (optional). 
6. Explore curriculum if you’d like to dive deeper.

NOTE: Talking about bodies can be uncomfortable. There may be students in your class who may feel self-conscious or vulnerable if there is a discussion about fat-shaming and how obese people are treated in society, including your school.  Proceed with care and sensitivity. You know your students best.

Some Tips for Talking About Tough Topics

Good conversations are deliberative. They encourage reflection, understanding of different voices and perspectives, and respect for complexity. They also take time.

We recognize that talking about tough topics—such as race, immigration, and, even fat-shaming—with your students may be uncomfortable, not necessarily age-appropriate—and may not even be allowed in your building.

Rather than debate an issue, “deliberative dialogue” has students exploring a topic together from multiple perspectives. Eventually, students may gain clarity on their personal opinion and the class may even come to a resolution.

Special thanks to Devin Hess of UC-Berkeley’s History-Social Science Project for his framing of—and commitment to—deliberative dialogue.

How might you and your students have a deliberative dialogue?

Provide a safe environment. 
If you choose to have this discussion, it’s important to provide a safe environment where students can voice their opinions honestly without fear of being judged or silenced. In your discussion space, while you may wish to welcome controversy and passion, be careful that this energy does not spill over to “othering” students and out-of-control vitriol.

Keep the armor off.
Think about making these discussions about discourse, rather than debate. As John Esterle of The Whitman Institute, explains one enters discourse with vulnerability and their armor off. They listen with the mindset that they might change their minds. Whereas one enters a debate with their armor on. They listen to prepare their rebuttal and to win the argument, not to understand.

Allow students to explore issues from different stakeholders’ perspectives.
Your students can get to clarity by understanding the experiences of the people who are impacted by the particular issue. Have them assume the mindset of the stakeholder to gain introspection and empathy—even if it’s a point-of-view they would disagree with or can’t relate to.

Be careful of the questions you ask.
You don’t want to invite topics or specifics that target or insult someone in your classroom or feed into fake news frenzy, like “The Holocaust is a hoax.” Think about the conversations you don’t want in your classroom—this depends on your students. Do ask questions that get all students talking and diving deeper into understanding.

Shut down conversations that are hurtful and ignorant.
When the conversation strays to hurtful and perpetuating ignorance, reconnect dialogue to the content.

Bridge divides with key questions.
Your students can take a position and still appreciate other perspectives. When the room is boiling with disagreement, ask your students: Where is there common ground? What are the aspects of the divide? Where is there no compromise?

Own your politics responsibly.
There’s an assumption that teachers need to be neutral. Not true. Take responsibility for your position and share it, when appropriate, professionally and respectfully. Look at the issue beforehand and provide direction for a positive, deliberative discussion

More resources for guidelines on difficult and deliberative conversations:
Deliberative Discourse Planning Guide (UC-Berkeley History-Social Science Project)
Preparing Students for Difficult Conversations (Facing History)
Civil Discourse in the Classroom and Beyond Teaching Tolerance (Teaching Tolerance)

Glossary

Body image: How someone thinks about their own body. This can range from positive feelings like body positivity to negative beliefs like body dysmorphia. 

Body shaming: Criticizing or commenting on someone’s body in a harmful, shaming way to ultimately make someone feel bad about themself. 

Fat acceptance: A movement started in the 1960s to make America’s policies more inclusive of size and advocates for the rights, humanity, and dignity of fat people.

Fatphobia: Fear and dislike of fat people. Consciously or subconsciously avoiding fat people out of fear or disgust.

Fat bias: Implicitly or explicitly thinking about or treating fat people as lesser, as different. Fat bias has serious social, cultural, and even medical implications, for example, fat people receiving inadequate healthcare. 

HAES approach: The “health at every size” approach accepts and respects the diversity of body shapes and sizes as the basis for medical treatment. It does not rely on BMI (body mass index), weight or size as determinants of health, but instead looks at emotional and spiritual factors, along with conditions where people work, live, and play.

Reading Materials

YES! Articles

Taking the Shame Out of Fat-Shaming

The Fear of Fat: Our Last Acceptable Bias

Here’s What Fat Acceptance Is—And Isn’t

How to Decolonize the Way You Think About Your Body

How a Stock Photography Project is Confronting Fat Bias

Outside Articles

The Bizarre and Racist History of the BMI (Medium)

The Beauty Myth for Boys (NY Times) 

The Price of Being Fat (Teen Vogue)
This article is part of Teen Vogue’s “The F Word” series that celebrates what it means to be fat.

The Latest Diet Trend is Not Dieting (The Atlantic)

Curriculum

Reshaping Body Image (Teaching Tolerance)—analyzing current social norms on body size and appearance, including the impact of fat bias.  

Discussion Questions

1. Reflect on a time when you were made to feel bad about your body. What was the situation and how did you respond? Where do you think the “shamer’s” ideas about bodies came from? If this has never happened to you, describe a time when you made fun of or felt disgusted by someone’s body size. Why do you think you felt this way?
2. When was the first time you heard the word “fat” or heard someone described as fat? How did that shape your view of fatness? 
3. Body-shaming is the act of humiliating someone based on their size. How are fat people treated differently than skinny people at the doctor’s office, in the workplace, and in relationships?
4. Have you noticed fatphobia—discrimination against fat people ranging from insults to delayed medical treatment—in your school or community? How might you be an ally to fat people and help change fatphobic beliefs?

Like what you see? Discover discussion guides on other tough topics.

In this article, Native American author Kayla DeVault writes about growing up and honoring all parts of her cultural and ancestral background that includes Shawnee, Anishinaabe, Eastern European, Scottish, and Irish. She explains that simply saying “I am this” isn’t enough. To truly honor her heritage, she found that she must understand and participate in it through rituals like preparing traditional foods with grandmas and aunties, and by exploring family history. 

Download lesson as a pdf

YES! Article and Writing Prompt

Read the YES! article by Kayla DeVault “Native and European–How do I Honor All Parts of Myself?”

Writing Prompt:

What do you consider your ancestral or ethnic identities? How connected are you to all of these parts? Describe how you honor and participate (or not) in them. Like DeVault, do you find yourself wanting to explore parts of your identity that you feel disconnected from or know little about?*

*Some students who are adopted, fostered, moved between households in divorce or come from other situations may not feel comfortable writing about their ancestral identity. They are welcome to write about their other identities, such as gender, sexual, religious or economic class, instead.

Writing Guidelines

The writing guidelines below are intended to be just that—a guide. Please adapt to fit your curriculum.

· Provide an original essay title

· Reference the article

· Limit the essay to no more than 600 words

· Pay attention to grammar and organization

· Be original. provide personal examples and insights

· Demonstrate clarity of content and ideas

· This writing exercise meets several Common Core State Standards for grades 6-12, including W. 9-10.3 and W. 9-10.14 for Writing, and RI. 9-10 and RI. 9-10.2 for Reading: Informational Text.*

*This standard applies to other grade levels. “9-10” is used as an example.

Evaluation Rubric

Sample Essays

The essays below were selected as winners for the fall 2019 YES! National Student Writing Competition. Please use them as sample essays or mentor text. The ideas, structure, and writing style of these essays may provide inspiration for your own students’ writing—and an excellent platform for analysis and discussion.

Brazil: My Heart’s Home by Susanna Audi, grade 8. Read Susanna’s essay about how living in the U.S. makes her feel isolated from her Brazilian family, their kisses on the cheeks, and the rhythm of samba on hand-beaten drums.

Carrying the Torch by Madison Greene, university. Read Madison’s essay about how she has learned to unapologetically embrace and explore her “pizza bagel” Catholic-Jewish identity.

Tying the Knot by Cherry Guo, grade 12. Read Cherry’s essay about reclaiming her Chinese identity through language and food after years of defiantly asking her brother in English to pass the green beans.

Walking Through the Forest of Culture by Keon Tindle, grade 11. Read Keon’s essay about his Black identity and how Black history is conveniently left out of textbooks, chained to whitewashed images.

What Being Part of the LGBTQ+ Community Means to Me by Mia De Haan, university. Read Mia’s essay about being proud of her queer identity but also being scared.

A True Irishman? by Reese Martin, grade 11. Read Reese’s essay about growing up with Irish folk music, laughter, and all things green, only to find out her identity was not what she originally thought after aunts and cousins took 23andMe and Ancestry DNA tests.

Behind My Skin by Mariela Alschuler, grade 7. Read Mariela’s essay about how sticks out like a sore thumb with both sets of grandparents—a wealthy, Jewish grandmother and grandfather from Massachusetts and a working-class second-generation Dominican abuela and abuelo from the Bronx.  

We Want to Hear From You!

How do you see this lesson fitting in your curriculum? Already tried it? Tell us—and other teachers—how the lesson worked for you and your students.

Please leave your comments below, including what grade you teach.

Each quarter, students are invited to read and write an essay on a selected YES! Magazine article. There are four award categories: middle school, high school, university, and Powerful Voice (for authors whose essays are especially powerful and passionate). Winning essays in each category, plus Literary Gems (excerpts that catch our eye) are published on the YES! website and in our online education newsletter, reaching thousands of YES! readers and more than 11,000 teachers. One winning essay per contest is published in our quarterly print magazine.

For the spring contest, we offer two writing prompts. Contest requirements remain the same—you send in your three best essays per class and we choose one set of middle school, high school, university, and Powerful Voice winners. There will not be separate winners chosen for each writing prompt.

EXCITING NEWS! The Healing Justice Podcast has generously offered to record and air a podcast episode featuring some of this contest’s winners reading their essays. That means winning essays not only will be shared with thousands of YES! readers and teachers across the country, but also with Healing Justice Podcast listeners.

Registration for this contest is now closed. Essays are due by April 10*.

Read featured essays from our most recent contest on identity, “Honoring Your Roots,” here.

*It’s challenging to set an essay deadline with so many spring breaks to consider. If your school’s spring break takes place on April 10, please plan ahead to meet this deadline.

Your Wildest Dreams for 2020

For the spring contest, students will read the YES! article “How to Prepare for 2020” by Kate Werning.

Lots of things may keep students up at night or make them anxious—from grades to fitting in to climate change, mass shootings, and hate groups. The author, who’s also the director of Healing Justice Podcast, reached out to Alicia Garza, co-founder of #BlackLivesMatter, to help guide us into the new year. Garza reminds us that “Clarity inside of chaos can help us find direction when it seems like everything around us is unstable.”

If you have at least 30 minutes, I encourage you to do Garza’s New Year’s Practice with your students before they write their essays. The reflection and planning exercise can be done individually or as a group. It asks participants to clarify their vision, name practices that should be let go of or developed, and identify what support is needed.

THE WRITING PROMPTS

Students, please respond to one of the writing prompts below with an up-to-600-word essay:

Option One: Think about what keeps you up at night or gives you anxiety. Now, imagine yourself feeling liberated, joyful, boundless with possibilities.  As you begin a new decade and a new year, what might you accomplish in your wildest dreams? Describe the steps you would take to make this vision become your reality.

Option Two: Think about what makes you anxious or worried about living in America. Now, imagine yourself feeling free, safe, able to thrive.  As you begin a new decade and a new year, what in your wildest dreams do you wish for your community or this nation? Tell us about the steps you would take to get you closer to realizing your dream.

WHO IS ELIGIBLE?

You must be a classroom teacher—homeschool cooperatives, resource centers, supervised writing groups, and schools outside the U.S. included—for your students to participate. We cannot accept essays or registrations independently sent by students. Student writers should be in grades 6-8 (middle school), grades 9-12 (high school), or college/university.

COMMON CORE STATE STANDARDS

This writing competition meets several Common Core State Standards for grades 6-12, including W.9-10.3 and W.9-10.4 for Writing, and RI.9-10.1 and RI.9-10.2 for Reading: Informational Text *
*This standard applies to other grade levels. “9-10” is used as an example.

WHAT ARE THE ESSAY REQUIREMENTS?

• Respond to the article and the writing prompt provided by YES!
• Provide an original essay title
• Reference the article in the essay
• 600 or fewer words
• Must be original, unpublished 

In addition, we are evaluating essays for:

• Grammar
• Organization
• Strong style and personal voice. We encourage writers to include personal examples and insights.
• Originality and clarity of content and ideas

HOW DO I SUBMIT ESSAYS?

• You must be registered for the competition by Friday, Feb. 28.
• E-mail your student essays as word-processed document attachments (please no pdf or scanned documents) or as an open-access Google Doc to writingcompetition@yesmagazine.org no later than Friday, April 10. 
• You may submit up to three essays per class. 
• Each essay must have a completed student release form. Student email addresses must be legible and visible. Please send all release forms in one pdf. NOTE: Please submit all student essays by April 10, even if there are missing release forms. You may send completed student releases as soon as you receive them.
• Winners will be announced by the end of May.

WHAT HAPPENS IF MY STUDENT’S ESSAY IS SELECTED AS A WINNER?

• Students whose essays are selected as winning essays will go through the editing process with YES! staff to get their writing ready for publication. This is a valuable experience that requires extra time.
• Winning essays in each category are published on the YES! Media website and in our online education newsletter, reaching thousands of YES! readers, including over 11,000 teachers.
• One winning essay per contest is chosen by YES! editors to be published in our quarterly print magazine.
• The article’s author also responds to essay winners about their ideas and writing. This letter is published with the winning essays.

ANYTHING ELSE I SHOULD KNOW?

• A dozen or so “literary gems”—excerpts that caught our eye—are chosen to highlight the ideas and writing generated from the contest.
• We respond to all student writers with a thoughtful note about their essays.
• Teachers who participate in a fall, winter, or spring contest receive one free year of YES!. One lucky participating teacher is randomly selected for each contest to win free YES! swag.

CONTEST FORMS:

Registration form
Student Release Form
Evaluation Rubric

If you have any questions, please give us a shout at exemplaryessay@yesmagazine.org

For the fall 2019 student writing contest, we invited students to read the YES! article “Native and European—How Do I Honor All Parts of Myself?” by Kayla DeVault. Like the author, students reflected on their heritage and how connected they felt to different parts of their identities. Students then wrote about their heritage, family stories, how they honor their identities, and more.

The Winners

From the hundreds of essays written, these nine were chosen as winners. Be sure to read the author’s response to the essay winners, literary gems and clever titles that caught our eye, and even more essays on identity in our Gallery of Voices.

Middle School Winner: Susanna Audi

High School Winner: Keon Tindle

High School Winner: Cherry Guo

University Winner: Madison Greene

Powerful Voice: Mariela Alschuler

Powerful Voice: Reese Martin

Powerful Voice: Mia De Haan

Powerful Voice: Laura Delgado

Powerful Voice: Rowan Burba

From the Author, Kayla DeVault: Response to All Student Writers and Essay Winners

Gallery of Voices: More Essays on Identity

Literary Gems

Titles We Loved

MIDDLE SCHOOL WINNER

Susanna Audi

Ethical Culture Fieldston School, Bronx, N.Y.

BRAZIL: MY HEART’S HOME

Saudades. No word in the English language sums up the meaning of this Portuguese term: a deep feeling of longing that makes your heart ache and pound like a drum inside your chest. I feel saudades for Brazil, its unique culture, and my Brazilian family. When I’m in my second home, Bahia, Brazil, I’m a butterfly emerging from its cocoon—colorful, radiant, and ready to explore the world. I see coconut trees waving at the turquoise waves that are clear as glass. I smell the familiar scent of burning incense. I hear the rhythm of samba on hand-beaten drums, and I feel my grandma’s delicate fingers rub my back as I savor the mouth-watering taste of freshly made doce de leite.  Although I’m here for only two precious weeks a year, I feel a magnetic connection to my father’s homeland, my heart’s home.

My grandfather or vovô, Evandro, was born in Brazil to a family who had immigrated from Lebanon and was struggling to make ends meet. His parents couldn’t afford to send him to college, so he remained at home and sold encyclopedias door-to-door. My vovô eventually started a small motorcycle parts company that grew so much that he was able to send my father to the U.S. at age sixteen. My father worked hard in school, overcoming language barriers and homesickness. Even though he has lived in America for most of his life, he has always cherished his Brazilian roots. 

I’ve been raised with my father’s native language, foods, and customs. At home, I bake Brazilian snacks, such as the traditional cheese bread, pão de queijo, which is crunchy on the outside but soft and chewy on the inside. My family indulges in the same sweet treats that my father would sneak from the cupboard as a child. Two relaxing customs we share are listening to Brazilian music while we eat breakfast on weekends and having conversations in Portuguese during meals. These parts of my upbringing bring diversity and flavor to my identity. 

Living in the U.S. makes me feel isolated from my Brazilian family and even more distant from Brazilian culture. It’s hard to maintain both American and Brazilian lifestyles since they are so different. In Brazil, there are no strangers; we treat everybody like family, regardless if that person works at the local shoe store or the diner. We embrace each other with loving hugs and exchange kisses on the cheeks whenever we meet. In the U.S., people prefer to shake hands. Another difference is that I never come out of Starbucks in New York with a new friend. How could I when most people sit with their eyes glued to their laptop screens? Life seems so rushed. To me, Brazilians are all about friendships, family, and enjoying life. They are much more relaxed, compared to the stressed and materialistic average American. 

As Kayla DeVault says in her YES! article “Native and European—How Do I Honor All Parts of Myself,” “It doesn’t matter how many pieces make up my whole: rather, it’s my relationship with those pieces that matters—and that I must maintain.”  I often ask myself if I can be both American and Brazilian. Do I have to choose one culture over the other? I realize that I shouldn’t think of them as two different cultures; instead, I should think of them as two important, coexisting parts of my identity. Indeed, I feel very lucky for the full and flavorful life I have as a Brazilian American. 

Susanna Audi is an eighth-grader who lives in the suburbs of New York. Susanna loves painting with watercolors, cooking Brazilian snacks, and playing the cello. On weekends, she enjoys babysitting and plays several sports including lacrosse, soccer, and basketball. Susanna would love to start her own creative design business someday. 

High School Winner

Keon Tindle

Kirkwood High School, Kirkwood, Mo.

Walking Through the Forest of Culture

What are my roots? To most people, my roots only go as far as the eye can see. In a world where categorization and prejudice run rampant, the constant reminder is that I am Black. My past is a living juxtaposition: my father’s father is a descendant of the enslaved and oppressed and his wife’s forefathers held the whips and tightened the chains. Luckily for me, racial hatred turned to love. A passion that burned brighter than any cross, a love purer than any poison. This is the past I know so well. From the slave ship to the heart of Saint Louis, my roots aren’t very long, but they are deeply entrenched in Amerikkkan history.

This country was made off of the backs of my brothers and sisters, many of whom have gone unrecognized in the grand scheme of things. From a young age, White children are told stories of heroes—explorers, politicians, freedom fighters, and settlers whose sweat and determination tamed the animalistic lands of America. They’re given hope and power through their past because when they look in the mirror they see these heroes. But what about me? My stories are conveniently left out of the textbooks; I have never been the son of a king or a powerful African leader, just expensive cargo to be bought and sold to the highest bidder. It seems we, as a people, never truly left the ship.

Even now, we’re chained to the whitewashed image of Black history. I can never truly experience the Black tradition because there are multiple perspectives. The truth is clouded and lost due to the lack of documentation and pervasive amount of fabrication. How am I supposed to connect to my heritage? America tells me to celebrate the strength of my ancestors, the strength of the slaves, to praise something they helped create. The Afrocentrics tell me to become one with the motherland, celebrate the culture I was pulled away from. However, native Africans make it clear I’ll never truly belong.

Even the honorable Elijah Muhammad tells me to keep my chin pointed to the clouds, to distrust the creation of Yakub, and to take my place among the rest of Allah’s children. Most people don’t have the luxury of “identifying with all of the pieces of [themselves],” as Kayla DeVault says in the YES! article “Native and European—How Do I Honor All Parts of Myself?” 

They’re forced to do research and to formulate their own ideas of who they are rather than follow the traditions of an elder. For some, their past works as a guide. A walk through life that has been refined over generations. Others, however, are forced to struggle through the dark maze of life. Hands dragging across the walls in an attempt to not lose their way. As a result, their minds create stories and artwork from every cut and scratch of the barriers’ surface. Gaining direction from the irrelevant, finding patterns in the illogical. 

So what are my roots? My roots are my branches, not where I come from but where this life will take me. The only constant is my outstretched arms pointed towards the light. A life based on the hope that my branches will sprout leaves that will fall and litter the path for the next generation.

Keon Tindle is unapologetically Black and embraces his African American background. Keon is an esports competitor, musician, and producer, and especially enjoys the craft of pairing history with hip-hop music. He is always ecstatic to dabble in new creative outlets and hopes to pursue a career in neuroscience research.

High School Winner

Cherry Guo

Thomas Jefferson High School for Science and Technology, Alexandria, Va.

Tying the Knot

The kitchen smells like onions and raw meat, neither unpleasant nor pleasant. Nainai’s house slippers slap against our kitchen floor as she bustles around, preparing fillings for zongzi: red bean paste, cooked peanuts, and marinated pork. I clap my pudgy hands together, delighted by the festivities. 

Nainai methodically folds the bamboo leaves into cones, fills them up with rice, and binds the zongzi together with string that she breaks between her teeth. I try to follow suit, but when I try to tie the zongzi together, half the rice spills out. Tired from my lack of progress, I abandon Nainai for my parents, who are setting up the mahjong table. 

After raising me to the age of ten, my grandparents returned to China. They dropped back into their lives like they had never left, like they hadn’t shaped my entire upbringing. Under their influence, my first language was not English, but Chinese. 

At school, my friends cajoled me into saying Chinese words for them and I did so reluctantly, the out-of-place syllables tasting strange on my palate. At home, I slowly stopped speaking Chinese, embarrassed by the way my tongue mangled English words when I spoke to classmates. One particular memory continually plagues me. “It’s Civil War, silly. Why do you pronounce “L” with an ‘R’?” Civil. Civil. Civil.

At dinner, my dad asked us to speak Chinese. I refused, defiantly asking my brother in English to pass the green beans. I began constructing false narratives around my silence. Why would I use my speech to celebrate a culture of foot binding and feudalism? In truth, I was afraid. I was afraid that when I opened my mouth to ask for the potatoes, I wouldn’t be able to conjure up the right words. I was afraid I would sound like a foreigner in my own home. If I refused to speak, I could pretend that my silence was a choice.

In Kayla DeVault’s YES! article “Native and European – How Do I Honor All Parts of Myself?” she insists that “Simply saying “I am this” isn’t enough. To truly honor my heritage, I found I must understand and participate in it.” And for the first time, I wonder if my silence has stolen my cultural identity. 

I decide to take it back.

Unlike DeVault, I have no means of travel. Instead, my reclamation starts with collecting phrases: a string of words from my dad when he speaks to Nainai over the phone, seven characters from two Chinese classmates walking down the hall, another couple of words from my younger sister’s Chinese cartoons. 

The summer before my senior year marks the eighth year of my grandparents’ return to China. Once again, I am in the kitchen, this time surrounded by my parents and siblings. The bamboo leaves and pot of rice sit in front of me. We all stand, looking at each other expectantly. No one knows how to make zongzi. We crowd around the iPad, consulting Google. Together, we learn how to shape the leaves and pack the rice down. 

The gap in knowledge bothers me. Does it still count as honoring a family tradition when I follow the directions given by a nameless pair of hands on YouTube rather than hearing Nainai’s voice in my mind? 

Instead of breaking the string with my teeth like Nainai had shown me, I use scissors to cut the string—like I had done with my ties to Chinese language and culture all those years ago. And now, I’m left with the severed string that I must hurriedly tie around the bamboo leaf before the rice falls out of my zongzi.

Cherry Guo is a senior at Thomas Jefferson High School for Science and Technology in Alexandria, Virginia. Cherry rows for her school’s crew team and plays the viola in her school orchestra. She spends what little free time she has eating pretzel crisps and listening to podcasts about philosophy.

University Winner

Madison Greene

Kent State University, Kent, Ohio

Carrying the Torch

I have been called a pizza bagel–the combination of a Catholic Italian and an Ashkenazi Jew. Over time, I have discovered the difficulty of discretely identifying the ratio of pizza to bagel. It is even more arduous when the pizza and the bagel have theologies that inherently contradict each other. Therefore, in a society that emphasizes fine lines and exact distinctions, my identity itself becomes a contradiction.  

In the winter, my family tops our Christmas tree with the Star of David. I’ve recited the Lord’s Prayer; I’ve prayed in Hebrew. I attended preschool at a church, and my brother was a preschooler in a synagogue. Every week at Sunday morning mass, my maternal family donates money to the collection basket during the offertory. My paternal family has donated authentic Holocaust photographs to a local Jewish heritage museum. Growing up, none of this was contradictory; in fact, it all seemed complementary. My Jewish and Catholic identities did not cancel each other out but rather merged together.

However, the compatibility of my Catholic-Jewish identities was in upheaval when I decided to become acquainted with the Jewish community on campus. While attending Hillel events, I felt insecure because I did not share many of the experiences and knowledge of other Jewish students. Despite this insecurity, I continued to participate—until a good friend of mine told me that I was not Jewish enough because of my Catholic mother. She also said that families like mine were responsible for the faltering of Jewish culture. I wanted my identity to be validated. Instead, it was rejected. I withdrew and avoided not only my Jewish identity but also my identity as a whole.

I soon realized that this friend and I look at my situation using different filters. My Catholic-Jewish identities have evolved into a codependent relationship, and I am entitled to unapologetically embrace and explore both aspects of my identity. I realized that even without my friend’s validation of my identity, I still exist just the same. Any discredit of my Catholic-Jewish identities does not eliminate my blended nature. So, after a few months of avoiding my Jewish identity, I chose to embrace my roots; I resumed participating in the Jewish community on campus, and I have not stopped since.

Kayla DeVault’s YES! article “Native and European – How Do I Honor All Parts of Myself?” describes the obligation to one’s ancestral chain. The best way to fulfill this duty is to fully dedicate oneself to understanding the traditions that accompany those cultural origins. In this generation, my mother’s Catholic-Italian maiden name has no men to carry it on to the next generation. It is difficult to trace my last name past the mid-1900s because my Jewish ancestors shortened our surname to make it sound less Semitic, to be less vulnerable to persecution. Given the progressive fading of my family’s surnames, how do I continue the legacies of both family lines?

On behalf of my ancestors and for the sake of the generations still to come, I feel obligated to blend and simultaneously honor my Jewish and Catholic heritage to ensure that both prevail. 

Now I know that whether I am sitting next to my Jewish father at my young cousin’s baptism, or whether I am sitting at the Passover Seder table with my mother’s Catholic parents, it is up to me to keep both flames of my ancestry burning bright. The least I can do is hold each family’s candle in my hands. Imagine the tremendous blaze I could create if I brought the flames of my two families together.

Madison Greene is a Communication Studies major at Kent State University. Madison is also pursuing a minor in Digital Media Production. She is currently the president of her sorority.

Powerful Voice Winner

Mariela Alschuler

Ethical Culture Fieldston School, Bronx, N.Y.

Behind My Skin

My roots go deeper than the ground I stand on. My family is from all over the world with extended branches that reach over whole countries and vast oceans.

Though I am from these branches, sometimes I never see them. My Dominican roots are obvious when I go to my abuela’s house for holidays. My family dances to Spanish music. I fill my plate with platanos fritos and my favorite rice and beans. I feel like a Dominican American girl. Maybe it’s the food. Maybe it’s the music. Or maybe it’s just the way that my whole family—aunts, uncles, grandparents, and cousins— laugh and talk and banter in my grandparents’ small, beautiful apartment.

Even though I am blood to this family, I stick out like a sore thumb. I stick out for my broken Spanish, my light skin, my soft, high-pitched voice and how I do my hair. I feel like I don’t belong to my beautiful, colorful family, a disordered array of painted jars on a shelf.

If my Dominican family is like a disorganized and vibrant shelf of colors, then my European family is a neat and sparse one with just a hint of color. For Christmas in New York, there are dozens of us crammed in the small apartment. For Thanksgiving in Massachusetts, there are rarely more than twelve people in the grandiose, pristine house that looks like something out of House Beautiful. I adore my grandparent’s house. It is expansive and neatly painted white. After growing up in a small house on a school campus and visiting my other grandparents’ small apartment in New York, I thought that their house was the greatest thing in the world. I would race up the stairs, then slide down the banister. I would sip Grandma’s “fancy” gingerbread tea, loving the feeling of sophistication. There, I could forget about the struggles of my Dominican family. I was the granddaughter of a wealthy, Jewish, Massachusetts couple rather than the granddaughter of a working-class second-generation Dominican abuela and abuelo from the Bronx.  

I don’t fit in with my European family either. My dark skin and my wild hair don’t belong in this tidy family. In Massachusetts, the branches of my Dominican family, no matter how strong and extensive, are invisible. The same way my European roots are lost when I am in New York.

So what am I? For years I have asked myself this question. Wondering why I couldn’t have a simple garden of a family rather than the jungle that I easily get lost in. As Kayla DeVault says in her YES! article “Native and European—How can I honor all parts of myself?,” “Simply saying ‘I am this’ isn’t enough.” And it isn’t. My race, color, and ethnicity do not make up who I am. I am still a daughter. A sister. A cousin. A friend. My mixed identity does not make me less whole, less human. I may have lightly tanned skin and my lips may not form Spanish words neatly, but behind my skin is bright color and music. There is warm gingerbread tea and golden platanos fritos. There is Spanish singing from my abuelo’s speaker and “young people” songs that play from my headphones. There is a little, cozy apartment and a large, exquisite house. Behind my skin is more than what you can see. Behind my skin is what makes me me. 

Mariela Alschuler is a seventh-grader at Ethical Culture Fieldston School and lives in the Bronx, New York. When she’s not in school, Mariela likes to read, write, do gymnastics, watch Netflix, and spend time with her friends and family. She hopes to be a doctor and writer when she grows up.

Powerful Voice Winner

Reese Martin

University Liggett School, Grosse Point Woods, Mich.

A True Irishman?

Similar to Kayla Devault in her YES! article “Native and European-How Do I Honor All Parts of Myself,” I hold holistic pride in my cultural identity. As a descendant of Irish immigrants, my childhood was filled with Irish folk music, laughter, and all things green. I remember being a toddler, sitting on my Popo’s lap wearing a shiny green, slightly obnoxious, beaded shamrock necklace. There, in the living room, I was surrounded by shamrocks hanging on the walls and decorations spread throughout, courtesy of my grandmother who always went overboard. My father and his siblings were Irish fanatics, as well. My aunt, whom I loved spending time with as a child, was notorious for wild face painting, ear-splitting music, and crazy outfits on St. Patrick’s Day. The holiday typically started in Detroit’s historic Corktown for the annual St. Patrick’s Day Parade with the promise of authentic Irish corned beef and soda bread at the Baile Corcaigh Irish Restaurant following the festivities. Charlie Taylor, a local Irish musician, belted folk songs from Baile Corcaigh’s makeshift stage. It was one of the few days a year my father and his large family came together. Although my aunt and grandparents have passed, our family’s Irish pride is eternal.

There was, however, one peculiar thing about our Irish heritage— none of my family looked classic Irish. My father and his five siblings have nearly black eyes and fairly dark skin, not the typical Irish traits of blue eyes and light skin. DeVault wrote, “When I was older, the questions came, which made me question myself.” I fell into a similar predicament, questioning my heritage. It truly came as a shock when a couple of my paternal aunts and several cousins took DNA tests through 23andMe and AncestryDNA. The results revealed the largest percentage of our ethnicity was Lebanese and Middle Eastern, not Irish.

Lebanese.

It felt like a punch to the gut. I was clueless on how to move forward. According to the numbers, we possessed an insignificant amount of Irish blood. How was it possible to be wrong about such a huge part of my identity? Not only was I confused about my culture and history, but I also experienced a great deal of shame—not of my newfound Middle Eastern heritage, but the lack of Irish DNA, which I had previously held so close and felt so proud of. It felt as though I was betraying the memory of my late grandparents and aunt.

Even amidst my confusion, I found this new heritage intriguing; I was excited to explore all that my newly found Lebanese culture had to offer: unique foods, unfamiliar traditions, and new geography. In addition to the familiar boiled and mashed potatoes, my family now eats hummus and shawarma. I also know more about the basic facts, history, and government of Lebanon. One thing dampens my enthusiasm, however. I wonder how I can fully develop a love for my newly discovered culture without being too deliberate and appearing to be insensitive to cultural appropriation.

It is here, in the depths of uncertainty and intrigue, I relate most to DeVault’s question, “How do I honor all parts of myself?” Although my Irish ancestry may not be as authentic as I once believed, I still feel a strong connection to the Irish culture. I’ve found that to truly honor all pieces of my identity, I must be willing to accept every aspect of my ancestry. I don’t need to reject Lebanese ethnicity, nor disregard the Irish memories of my childhood. I am allowed to be everything all at once. At the end of the day, with both Irish culture and Lebanese heritage, I am still simply and perfectly me.

Reese Martin is a junior at University Liggett School in Grosse Pointe Woods, Michigan. Reese plays hockey and soccer, swims competitively and is a violinist in her school orchestra. She enjoys volunteering, especially peer tutoring and reading with young children.

Powerful Voice Winner

Rowan Burba

Kirkwood High School, Kirkwood, Mo.

Saluting Shadows

On the floor, a murdered woman lays bloody and dead. Two young boys stare in horror at their dead mother. At only 10 years old, my great-grandfather experienced unfathomable suffering. A generation later, my grandfather and two great-uncles grew up under an abusive roof. My great-uncle Joe, the youngest of three boys, endured the worst of the abuse. Joe’s scarred brain altered during the sexual and emotional abuse his father subjected him to. From the time he was 18 months old, trusted adults of Joe’s community violated him throughout his childhood. These traumas spiraled into a century of silence, the silence I am determined to break. 

My father’s lineage is littered with trauma. Our family doesn’t openly share its past. We constantly masquerade as “normal” so we can fit in, but the alienation we experience is understandable. In Kayla DeVault’s YES! article “Native and European—How Do I Honor All Parts of Myself?” she explains her numerous identities, which include Shawnee, Anishinaabe, Eastern European, Scottish, and Irish. Although I don’t have her rich ethnic ancestry, I question my roots just as she does. I have limited photos of my deceased relatives. There are only two prominent ones: my paternal grandmother as a child with her siblings and my maternal grandmother’s obituary photo. These frosted images hide the truth of my family’s history. They’re not perfect 4″ x 6″ moments frozen in time. They’re shadowed memories of a deeply disturbed past.

For 17 years, my family was clueless about our past family trauma. Two months ago, my great-aunt explained Joe’s story to me. Joe developed Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) as a result of his abuse. By the age of 18, his brain contained 95 alters (fragments of his identity that broke off and developed into true individuals), causing Joe to appear as the “weird one,” the one who my family dismissed, the outcast of my dad’s childhood. My dad only learned one year ago, long after Joe died, about Joe’s DID. My family’s adamancy to hold secrets outweighed accepting and helping Joe. The shadows around these secrets quickly dispersed. 

The silence and shame from a mother’s death a century ago still have a chokehold on my family today. My family appears a disaster to outsiders.  My mom’s side is so religious they would never fathom a conversation about these harsh realities. In addition to Joe, my dad’s side has uncles who struggle with codependency and trauma from past abuses. Joe’s brother coped by latching onto another “normal” family, and my grandfather coped by never talking about issues. My parents married soon after my maternal grandmother and three of her four siblings died within a few weeks of each other. Despite years of therapy, my parents divorced when I was 11 years old. I grew up surrounded by dysfunction without recognizing it. 

How do I honor my roots? I work to break the silence and stigmas of abuse and mental health. I’ve participated in therapy for about five years and have been on medicine for about two. I must reprogram my brain’s attachment to codependent tendencies and eliminate the silence within me. I’m working through my intrusive thoughts and diving into my family’s past and disrupting harmful old patterns. I’m stepping away from the shadows of my ancestors and into the light, ensuring that future generations grow up with knowledge of our past history of abuse and mental illness. Knowledge that allows us to explore the shadows without living in them. Knowledge that there’s more in life outside of the frames.

Rowan Burba, a junior at Kirkwood High School in Missouri, loves to participate as a witness in Mock Trial competitions, build and paint sets for the KHS theatre department, play viola in her school orchestra, and do crafts with kids. She is involved in politics and wants to help change the world for the better.

Powerful Voice Winner

Mia De Haan

Estrella Mountain Community College, Avondale, Ariz.

What Being a Part of the LGBTQ+ Community Means to Me

Being queer is that one thing about me I am most proud of, yet also most scared of. Knowing that I am putting my life at risk for the simplest thing, like being gay, is horrifying.

Let’s talk about my first crush. Her name was Laurel, and she was always in front of me when we lined up after recess in first grade. I remember wishing that girls could marry girls because she had the prettiest long, blonde hair. I left these thoughts in the back of my head until middle school. I couldn’t stop staring at a certain girl all day long. That one girl who I would have sleepovers with every weekend and slow dance with at school dances—but only as friends. She changed my life. She was the first person to tell me that I was accepted and had no reason to be afraid. 

Being part of the LGBTQ+ community isn’t all rainbows and Pride parades. It is watching your family turn away from you in disgust but never show it on their faces. It’s opening Twitter and learning that it’s still illegal to be gay in 71+ countries. It’s astonishing that we had to wait until 2015 for the U.S. Supreme Court to make it legal to marry in all 50 states. 

My identity is happiness yet pain, so much pain. I hated myself for years, shoved myself back into a closet and dated my best friend for two years because maybe if I brought a boy home my family would wish me “Happy Birthday” again or send me Christmas presents like they do for my brother and sister.

When I began to explore my identity again, I asked myself, “Am I safe?” “Will I still be loved?” I was horrified. I am horrified. Legally, I am safe, but I am not safe physically. I can still be beaten up on the streets for holding a girl’s hand. Protesters at Pride festivals are still allowed to shout profanities at us and tell us that we are going to burn in hell—and the cops protect them. I am not safe mentally because I still allow the words of people and homophobes in the media and on my street get inside of my head and convince me that I am a criminal. 

When I read Kayla DeVault’s YES! article “Native and European—How Do I Honor All Parts of Myself?” I could feel how proud DeVault is to be Shawnee and Irish. While we do not share the same identity, I could tell that we are the same because we both would do anything for our cultures and want to show our pride to the rest of the world.

I honor my LGBTQ+ identity by going to Pride festivals and events. I also participate in an LGBTQ+ church and club, where, for years, was the only place I could be myself without the fear of being outed or harmed. Whenever I hear people being ignorant towards my community, I try to stay calm and have a conversation about why our community is great and valid and that we are not doing anything wrong. 

I don’t know if the world will ever change, but I do know that I will never change my identity just because the world is uncomfortable with who I am. I have never been one to take risks; the idea of making a fool of myself scares me. But I took one because I thought someone might listen to my gay sob story. I never expected it to be heard. If you have your own gay sob story, I will listen, and so will many others, even if you don’t realize it yet.  

Amelia (Mia) De Haan was born and raised in Phoenix, Arizona. Mia has devoted her entire life to art, specifically theatre and dance. While she has struggled to figure out what she wants to do for the rest of her life, she does know that she wants to inspire people and be a voice for the people of the LGBTQ+ community who still feel that no one is listening. Mia dreams of moving to New York with her cat Loki and continuing to find a way to inspire people.

Powerful Voice Winner

Laura Delgado

Spring Hill College, Mobile, Ala.

Alien

I moved to the United States when I was eight years old because my father knew Venezuela was becoming more corrupt. He wanted to give his family a better life. My sense of self and belonging was wiped clean when I moved to the United States, a country that identified me and continues to label me as an “alien.” On U.S Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS) documents, I am Alien Number xxx-xxx-xxx.  I will not let that alien number define who I am: a proud Venezuelan and American woman.

In her YES! article “Native and European—How Do I Honor All Parts of Myself?” author Kayla DeVault says that “to truly honor [her] heritage, [she] found [she] must understand and participate in it.” This is why during Christmas I help my mom make hallacas (a traditional Venezuelan dish made out of cornmeal, stuffed with beef, pork, chicken, raisins, capers, and olives, wrapped in a banana leaf that is boiled to perfection), pan de jamón (a Christmas bread filled with ham, cheese, raisins, and olives—the perfect sweet and salty combination, if you ask me), and ensalada de gallina (a chicken, potatoes, and green apple salad seasoned with mayonnaise, salt, and pepper). While the gaitas (traditional Venezuelan folk music) is playing, we set up the Christmas tree and, under it, the nativity scene. The smell of Venezuelan food engulfs our small apartment. Every time I leave the house, the smell of food sticks to me like glue, and I love it.

We go to our fellow Venezuelan friend’s house to dance, eat, and laugh like we were back in Venezuela. We play bingo and gamble quarters as we talk over each other.  My favorite thing is how we poke fun at each other, our way of showing our love. There is nothing better than being surrounded by my Venezuelan family and friends and feeling like I belong.

My ancestors are Spanish settlers, West African slaves, and Indigenous Venezuelans. To my peers, I am a Latina woman who can speak Spanish and comes from a country they have never heard of. To my family, I am a strong and smart Venezuelan woman who is succeeding in this country she calls home. 

I was immediately an outcast as a young newcomer to this country. I was the new, exotic girl in class who did not speak a word of English; all of that led to bullying. Growing up in a country that did not want me was—and still is—hard. People often ask me why I would ever want to identify as American. My answer to their question is simple: This is my home. I knew that the chances of us going back to Venezuela were slim to none so I decided to make this country my home. At first, I fought it. My whole life was back in Venezuela. Eventually, I made lifelong friends, had my first kiss and my first heartbreak. I went to all of the homecoming and prom dances and made memories with my best friends to last me a lifetime. Yes, I was born in Venezuela and the pride of being a Venezuelan woman will never be replaced, but my whole life is in the United States and I would never trade that for the world. 

I am Venezuelan and I am American. I am an immigrant and I am Latina. The United States government will always know me as Alien Number xxx-xxx-xxx, but they will not know that my heritage is rich and beautiful and that I am a proud Venezuelan and a proud American woman.

Laura Delgado is a Junior at Spring Hill College in Mobile, Alabama, majoring in Graphic Design and minoring in Hispanic Studies. Laura and her family migrated to the United States from Venezuela in 2007 to escape the Chavez regime. She is a DACA recipient and a first-generation college student who has a passion for graphic design and hopes to one day open her own interior design company.

From the Author, Kayla DeVault:
Response to All Student Writers and Essay Winners

Dear every human who wrote in this contest or thought about writing,

I want to start by addressing all of you. 

I think stepping out of your comfort zone and writing your truth—even if you think you aren’t a writer— is a brave thing to do. 

I want you to understand that not being selected does not mean your story isn’t valid or that your identity wasn’t “enough.” Remember, you’re always enough. You’re enough to God, to Allah, to your Higher Power, to the Flying Spaghetti Monster in the sky, to your parents, and to your ancestors who endured long enough for you to come into existence. 

As I read through the various essays, I saw a common thread of food. Whether it’s the pierogi sales at churches in Pittsburgh, the neverias around Phoenix, or the soul food joints in Birmingham, the history of our ancestors’ movements have left their impressions in our cuisine. 

Another theme I found in several essays was a “uniformed diaspora.” Some of you talked about not being able to fully trace your lineage, having your history stolen by some method of political racism, and even grappling with finding that your genetics are not all you thought they were. As a Native person, I know all too well that we had much taken from us. I know that the conquerors wrote our history, so ours is recorded with bias, racism, and flippancy. 

And now to the essay winners:

To Susanna: Obrigada for your story. I encourage you to keep exploring your identity and how it informs your existence today on Lenape, Rockaway, and Canarsie traditional lands (New York City). Your imagery reflects saudades well. I think there is an intriguing and untapped story embedded in your father’s experience from Lebanon, and I encourage you to explore how that merges with your Brazilian identity.

When I read that passage about Starbucks, I thought about how the average young American seems to be private in public, but public in private—meaning this culture and its technology isolates us (private) when we are around other people (public), yet so many of us share most about ourselves on social media (public) where we can pick and choose if we want to engage with someone (private). By the way, I, too, played lacrosse… Did you know it has Indigenous roots?

To Cherry: 非常感谢你!  Don’t listen to the American stereotypes of who you are, as hard as that can be. You sadly may always hear them, but hearing is not the same as listening. People undermine the things they don’t understand because the things they don’t understand scare them. While it is not your job to feel you have to educate them, you do have the freedom to choose how you navigate those spaces.

I understand how it may feel inauthentic to learn how to make traditional foods like zongzi from a YouTube video. For me, I have had to learn beading and other crafts because I was too ashamed to learn them when I had the elders still in my life. I  tell young folk to know their elders now while they can. Furthermore, please speak every language no matter how imperfect because it’s a gift. Also, I’ll eat your zongzi any day, even if all the rice falls out!

To Keon: The imagery and symbols of slavery you use, powerfully describe a revisionist history that further blocks access to what would be a culturally-rich ancestry. 

I remember standing on the shores of Ouidah, Benin, from where the majority of slaves left, looking through La Porte du Non Retour (The Door of No Return) memorial, and hearing a local say, “Our relatives, they left these shores for the ships and then… we never heard from them again.” And so we come to realize our stories are known only so far as they have been carried. 

I see hope in the way you have embraced your roots as your branches to move forward. I believe that, in looking towards your branches, you have actually found your roots. You are a product of all the stories, told and untold, remembered and forgotten. I encourage you to keep writing and exploring how your seemingly contradicting and somewhat unknown roots shaped your ancestors and shape their product: you. Don’t hold back. 

To Madison: Grazie and תודה. First of all, pizza bagels are delicious… just saying… talk about the best of both worlds! You write about the challenge of fitting into your communities, and I can certainly see how religious differences can become contentious. 

I am sorry that you had a negative Hillel experience. In the end, we can’t let the persecutors steal our ancestral identities from us because that allows them to win. Cultures are fluid, not rigid and defined as peers might bully us into thinking. It’s rotten when people label us with things like “pizza bagel,” but if you boldly embrace it, you can turn it on its head. So I encourage you to be the smartest, wittiest, and most deliciously confident pizza bagel out there, writing your experience for all to read!

To Laura: Gracias, you write with a motif of sorts, one that conflates your identity to a number and the label of “alien.” For people in the United States to be dismissive of immigrants and judgmental of their cultures and languages is for the same people to forget their own origins, their own stories, and their own roles (as benefactors or as victims) in this age-old system of oppression for gain. It is also rather ironic that we call people “aliens;” unless they are from an Indigenous nation. Are not nearly all Americans “aliens” to some degree?

You write about being bullied as the new, exotic girl in school and I have also experienced that as my family moved around a bit growing up; however, I have also had the privilege to speak English.

It’s sad that these experiences are still so proliferate, and so I think it is vital that people like you share their experiences. Perhaps your background can inform how you think about spaces as an interior designer. 

To Mariela: Gracias and תודה for the story you shared. You write about a complex existence that is a mix of poor and wealthy, white and brown, warm and cool. Learning to navigate these contrasting sides of your family will help you work with different kinds of people in your future.

I can understand your point about feeling out of place by your skin color. Lighter skin is largely considered a privilege in society, yet for those of us with non-white heritages, it can make us feel like we don’t belong amongst our own family. We have to walk a fine line where we acknowledge we may be treated better than our relatives in some circumstances but we have to sit with the feeling of not being “brown enough” other times. I encourage you to keep exploring your branches and sharing your feelings with your relatives about these topics. Perhaps one day you can use your deep understanding of human relations to inform your bedside manner as a doctor!

To Mia: Thank you for your brave piece, despite your fears. Your emotional recollection about the first girl you loved is very touching and powerful. 

I am sorry that you don’t feel as though you are treated the same by your family on account of your identity and that you have to take extra steps to be accepted, but I believe your continuing to be your authentic self is the only way to prove you mean what you mean.

I hope the utmost safety and acceptance for you. I also thank you for seeing and relating to my pride that I have for myself, and I encourage you to consider creative outlets— maybe even podcast hosting—to uplift your story and the stories of others, spread awareness, and facilitate change.

To Reese: Go raibh maith agat. That’s how you thank a singular person in Irish, if you didn’t know already. I enjoyed your piece because, of course, we have an Irish connection that I understand.

I find it pretty interesting that you came back with a lot of Lebanese results in your family tests. Understand those tests only represent the inherited genes, so if both of your parents were a quarter Irish but three-quarters Lebanese, for example, you would get half of each of their genes. You might get half Lebanese from both and you would appear full Lebanese—or any other variation. My point is those tests aren’t exact reports.

I am excited you have found new aspects of your heritage and I hope you will continue to explore—as best you can—what your ancestral history is. And, by the way, I, too, play hockey and the violin—fine choices!

To Rowan: Many families put up a facade, and it’s only the brave ones, like you, addressing the trauma head-on who will be able to break the cycle that causes intergenerational trauma. 

When we explore the parts of our identity, many of us may find how much trauma —including historic policy, racism, and displacement—has impacted our ancestors, perhaps centuries upon centuries ago. Learning about my family history and about religious factors has revealed stories of abuse and secrets that have been hushed wildly, even within my immediate family. Photos can be sad when we know the stories behind them and even when we never knew the person; they’re still a part of us and we can honor them by remembering them. I think you choosing to write about your Uncle Joe and the effects of trauma in your family— especially as you process and heal yourself—will be a tremendous resource both internally and for others. Thank you for sharing and I hope you find happiness in those frames.

Again, thank you all for your essays. It is exciting to see the youth writing. I am grateful for my piece to have been chosen for this contest and, I hope I’ve encouraged readers to consider every part that makes up their whole and how it has informed their life experiences.

Sincerely,

Kayla DeVault

Gallery of Voices: More Essays on Identity

“In seventh grade, I went to an affinity group meeting. And all I remember was being called a bad Asian again and again. I was called a bad Asian because I couldn’t use chopsticks. I was called a bad Asian because I didn’t know what bubble tea or K-pop was. Time and again, I was called a bad Asian because I didn’t know the things I was expected to know, and I didn’t do the things that I was expected to do. That meeting made me truly question my identity.“
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—Sebastian Cynn, Ethical Culture Fieldston Middle School, Bronx, N.Y.
Click here to read the entire essay.

“It’s difficult being Dominican but born and raised in New York. I’m supposed to speak fluent Spanish. I’m supposed to listen to their music 24/7, and I’m supposed to follow their traditions. I’m supposed to eat their main foods. I’m unique and it’s not only me. Yes, I may not speak Spanish. Yes, I may not listen to their kind of music, but I don’t think that defines who I am as a Dominican. I don’t think I should be discriminated for not being the same as most Dominicans. Nobody should be discriminated against for being different from the rest because sometimes different is good.“

—Mia Guerrero, KIPP Washington Heights Middle School, New York, N.Y.
Click here to read the entire essay.

When I hang out with some of my older friend groups, which are mainly white, straight kids, I don’t mention that I’m Asian or Gay, but as soon as I’m with my friends, I talk about my identifiers a lot. A lot of them are part of the LGBTQ+ community, and 11 out of 14 of them are a person of color. With my grandparents, I am quieter, a good Asian grandchild who is smart, gets good grades, is respectful. And I don’t act “Gay.” … Why do I have to act differently with different people? Why do I only feel comfortable with all of my identities at school?

—Gillian Okimoto, Ethical Culture Fieldston Middle School, Bronx, N.Y.
Click here to read the entire essay.

“Torah, Shema, yarmulke, all important elements of Jewish identity—except for mine. All these symbols assume the existence of a single God, but that doesn’t resonate with me. Religion is a meaningful part of my family’s identity. After all, wanting to freely practice their religion was what brought my great-grandparents to America from Eastern Europe. Being very interested in science, I could never wrap my head around the concept of God. Can I be Jewish while not believing in God?“

—Joey Ravikoff, Ethical Culture Fieldston Middle School, Bronx, N.Y.
Click here to read the entire essay.

“Yes, I am transgender, but I am also a son, a friend, an aspiring writer, and a dog trainer. I love riding horses. I’ve had the same volunteer job since sixth grade. I love music and trips to the art museum. I know who I am and whether other people choose to see me for those things is out of my control. 
Holidays with my family feels like I’m suffocating in a costume. I’ve come out twice in my life. First, as a lesbian in middle school. Second, as a transgender man freshman year. I’ve gotten good at the classic sit-down. With hands folded neatly in front of me, composure quiet and well-kept, although I’m always terrified.“

—Sebastian Davies-Sigmund, Kirkwood High School, Kirkwood, Mo.
Click here to read the entire essay.

“No longer do I wish to be stared at when civil rights and slavery are discussed. In every Socratic seminar, I shudder as expectant white faces turn to mine. My brown skin does not make me the ambassador for Black people everywhere. Please do not expect me to be the racism police anymore. Do not base the African American experience upon my few words. Do not try to be relatable when mentioning Hannukah is in a few days. Telling me you tell your White friends not to say the N-word doesn’t do anything for me.“

—Genevieve Francois, Kirkwood High School, Kirkwood, Mo.
Click here to read the entire essay.

“I often walk into the kitchen greeted by my mother sitting on her usual stool and the rich smells of culture—the spicy smell of India, the hearty smell of cooked beans, or the sizzling of burgers on the grill. Despite these great smells, I find myself often yearning for something like my friends have; one distinct culture with its food, people, music, and traditions.
I don’t have a one-click culture.
That can be freeing, but also intimidating.
People who know me see me as a fraction: ¼ black, ¾ white, but I am not a fraction.
I am human, just human.“
—Amaela Bruce, New Tech Academy at Wayne High School, Fort Wayne, Ind.
Click here to read the entire essay.

“‘We just don’t want you to go to hell.‘
I am not an atheist. I am not agnostic. I have no religion nor do I stand strong in any one belief. My answer to the mystery of life is simple: I don’t know.
But I live in a world full of people who think they do. 
There will be a day when that capital G does not control my conversations. There will be a day when I can speak of my beliefs, or lack thereof, without judgment, without the odd stare, and without contempt. The day will come when a life without religion is just another life. That is the day I wait for. That day will be Good.“

—Amara Lueker, New Tech Academy at Wayne High School, Fort Wayne, Ind.
Click here to read the entire essay.

“¡Correle!” yell the people around him. He runs to the grass, ducks down and starts to wait. He’s nervous. You can smell the saltiness of sweat. He looks up and hears the chopping of helicopter blades. You can see the beam of light falling and weaving through the grass field … out of a group of thirteen, only four were left hidden. He and the others crossed and met up with people they knew to take them from their own land down south to the opportunity within grasp up north.
That was my father many years ago. I’ve only asked for that story once, and now it’s committed to memory.“

—Luz Zamora, Woodburn Academy of Art Science & Technology, Woodburn, Ore.
Click here to read the entire essay.

“How do I identify myself? What do I connect to? What’s important to you? Here’s the answer: I don’t. Don’t have a strong connection. Don’t know the traditions. Don’t even know the languages. I eat some of the food and kinda sorta hafta** the major holidays but thinking about it I don’t know anything important. I think that the strongest connection to my family is my name, Mei Li (Chinese for “beautiful” Ana (a variation on my mother’s very American middle name: Anne) Babuca (my father’s Mexican last name).“

—Mei Li Ana Babuca, Chief Sealth International High School, Seattle, Wash.
Click here to read the entire essay.

“My whole life I have felt like I don’t belong in the Mexican category. I mean yeah, I’m fully Mexican but, I’ve always felt like I wasn’t. Why is that you ask? Well, I feel that way because I don’t know Spanish. Yes, that’s the reason. It may not sound like a big deal, but, for me, I’ve always felt disconnected from my race. I felt shameful. I felt like it was an obligation to know what is supposed to be my mother tongue. My whole family doesn’t really know fluent Spanish and that has always bothered me growing up.“

—Yazmin Perez, Wichita North High School, Wichita, Kan
Click here to read the entire essay.

“I believe differently from DeVault, who believes it’s important to connect and participate with your heritage. I believe that our personal pasts have more to do with who we are as people than any national identity ever could. Sure, our heritage is important, but it doesn’t do nearly as much to shape our character and perspective as our struggles and burdens do. Out of all my past experiences, illness—and especially mental illness—has shaped me.“

—Chase Deleon, Central York High School, York, Penn.
Click here to read the entire essay.

“… I can now run that whole grape leaf assembly line, along with other traditional plates, by myself. I have begun speaking out on current topics, such as Middle-Eastern representation in acting. I have become so much closer with my relatives and I don’t mind busting a move with them on the dance floor. Although a trip to Syria is not in my near future, DeVault made me realize that a connection to your geographical cultural roots is important. According to my aunt, I have become a carefree, happy, and more passionate person. I no longer feel stuck in the middle of ethnicity and society. Becoming one with and embracing my identity truly is ‘A Whole New World.’”

—Christina Jarad, University Ligget School, Grosse Pointe Woods, Mich.
Click here to read the entire essay.

“While my bow is not made of wood and my arrows lack a traditional stone tip, the connections are always present, whether I am stalking bull elk in the foothills of the Rockies or fly fishing in the mystical White River. The methods and the technologies may be different, but the motivations are the same. It is a need to be connected to where my food originates. It is a desire to live in harmony with untouched lands. It is a longing to live wild, in a time where the wild is disappearing before our eyes.“
—Anderson Burdette, Northern Oklahoma University, Stillwater, Okla.
Click here to read the entire essay.

“Black people always say that White people don’t use seasoning. This saying is one of those sayings that I always heard, but never understood. I am Black, but I was adopted into a White household … Even though I identify as a Black woman, all my life I have struggled with breaking into the Black culture because other people around me consciously or unconsciously prevent me from doing so.“

—Brittany Hartung, Spring Hill College, Mobile, Ala.
Click here to read the entire essay.

Literary Gems

We received many outstanding essays for the Fall 2019 Student Writing Competition. Though not every participant can win the contest, we’d like to share some excerpts that caught our eye:

How can other people say that I only have one identity before I can even do that for myself?
—Arya Gupta, Ethical Culture Fieldston Middle School, Bronx, N.Y.

‘Middle Child’ by J. Cole blasts through the party. Everyone spits the words like they’re on stage with him. J. Cole says the N-Word, and I watch my Caucasian peers proudly sing along. Mixed Girl is perplexed. Black Girl is crestfallen that people she calls friends would say such a word. Each letter a gory battlefield; White Girls insists they mean no harm; it’s how the song’s written. Black Girl cries.
—Liz Terry, Kirkwood High School, Kirkwood, Mo.

To me, valuing my ancestors is a way for me to repay them for their sacrifices.
—Jefferson Adams Lopez, Garrison Middle School, Walla Walla, Wash.

A one-hour drive with light traffic. That’s the distance between me and my cousins. Short compared to a 17-hour flight to the Philippines, yet 33 miles proved to create a distance just as extreme. Thirty-three miles separated our completely different cultures.
—Grace Timan, Mount Madonna High School, Gilroy, Calif.

What does it mean to feel Korean? Does it mean I have to live as if I live in Korea? Does it mean I have to follow all the traditions that my grandparents followed? Or does it mean that I can make a decision about what I love?
—Max Frei, Ethical Culture Fieldston Middle School, Bronx, N.Y.

Not knowing feels like a safe that you can’t open (speaking about her ancestry).
—Madison Nieves-Ryan, Rachel Carson High School, New York, N.Y.

As I walked down the halls from classroom to classroom in high school, I would see smiling faces that looked just like mine. At every school dance, in every school picture, and on every sports team, I was surrounded by people who looked, thought, and acted similar to me. My identity was never a subject that crossed my mind. When you aren’t exposed to diversity on a daily basis, you aren’t mindful of the things that make you who you are.
—Jenna Robinson, Kent State University, Kent, Ohio

When my Great-Great-Grandfather Bill was 12, he ran away to work with his uncles. And then when he was older and married, he called up his wife and said, “Honey, I’m heading off to college for a few years. Buh-Bye!” Because of his adventurous spirit, Bill Shea was the first Shea to go to college. Ever since my mom told me this story, I’ve always thought that we could all use a little Bill attitude in our lives. 
—Jordan Fox, Pioneer Middle School, Walla Walla, Wash.

I defy most of the stereotypes of the Indian community. I’m a gender-fluid, American, Belizean kid who isn’t very studious. I want to be a writer, not a doctor, and I would hang out with friends rather than prepare for the spelling bee.
—Yadna Prasad, Ethical Culture Fieldston Middle School, Bronx, N.Y.

While my last name may be common, the history behind my family is not. A line of warriors, blacksmiths, intellectuals, and many more. I’m someone who is a story in progress.
—Ha Tuan Nguyen, Chief Sealth International High School, Seattle, Wash.

My family is all heterosexual. I did not learn about my identity from them. LGBTQ+ identity is not from any part of the world. I cannot travel to where LGBTQ+people originate. It does not exist. That is the struggle when connecting with our identities. It is not passed on to us. We have to find it for ourselves.
—Jacob Dudley, Kent State University, Kent, Ohio

My race is DeVault’s childhood kitchen, so warm and embracing. Familiar. My sexuality is DeVault’s kitchen through adulthood: disconnected.
—Maddie Friar, Kirkwood High School, Kirkwood, Mo.

At school, I was Dar-SHAW-na and at home DAR-sha-na. There were two distinct versions, both were me, but neither were complete.\
—Darshana Subramaniam, University Liggett School, Grosse Pointe Woods, Mich.

I do not think that heritage and ethnic roots are always about genetics. It is about the stories that come with it, and those stories are what shapes who you are.
—Lily Cordon-Siskind, Ethical Culture Fieldston Middle School, Bronx, N.Y.

In my sixteen-year-old mind, the two ethnicities conflicted. I felt like I couldn’t be both. I couldn’t be in touch with Southern roots and Cuban ones at the same time. How could I, they contradict each other? The Cuban part of me ate all my food, was loud and blunt, an underdog and the Southerner was reserved, gentle, and polite.
—Grace Crapps, Spring Hill College, Mobile, Ala.

I thought I was simply an American. However, I learned that I am not a jumbled mix of an untraceable past, but am an expertly woven brocade of stories, cultures, and hardships. My ancestors’ decisions crafted me…I am a story, and I am a mystery.
—Hannah Goin, Pioneer Middle School, Walla Walla, Wash.

Titles We Loved

We received many outstanding essays for the Fall 2019 Student Writing Competition, and several students got clever and creative with their titles. Here are some titles that grabbed our attention:

“A Mixed Child in a Mixed-Up Family”
Caitlin Neidow, Ethical Culture Fieldston Middle School, Bronx, N.Y.

“Diggin’ in the DNA”
Honnor Lawton, Chestnut Hill Middle School, Liverpool, N.Y.

“Hey! I’m Mexican (But I’ve Never Been There)”
Alexis Gutierrez-Cornelio, Wellness, Business & Sports School, Woodburn, Ore.

“What It Takes to Be a Sinner”
Amelia Hurley, Kirkwood High School, Kirkwood, Mo.

“Mirish”
Alyssa Rubi, Chief Sealth International High School, Seattle, Wash.

“Nunca Olvides de Donde Vienes” (Never forget where you came from)
Araceli Franco, Basis Goodyear High School, Goodyear, Ariz.

“American Tacos”
Kenni Rayo-Catalan, Estrella Mountain Community College, Avondale, Ariz.

“Corn-Filled Mornings and Spicy Afternoons”
Yasmin Medina, Tarrant County Community College, Fort Worth, Tex.

In this collection, you can read essays from a teen who wonders if he can be Jewish and not believe in God, a Black adoptee with White parents, a “bad” Asian, a student tired of talking about identity, and other students from across the country defining who they are.

Middle School

Advice From a Bad Asian by Sebastian Cynn

Dominican-ish by Mia Guerrero

Bridges and Broken Pieces by Gillian Okimoto

Religion Without God? Works for Me by Joey Ravikoff

High School

Not Just Transgender by Sebastian Davies-Sigmund

WHITE BLACK OTHER BIRACIAL MULTIRACIAL HUMAN by Amaela Bruce

Capital G by Amara Lueker

Many Years Ago and Today by Luz Zamora

Wait a Minute … Who ARE You? by Mei Li Ana Babuca

Future Answers by Genevieve Francois

What IS My Identity? by Yazmin Perez

Ancestry vs. Personal Experience: Which is More Important? by Chase Deleon

Putting the Middle in “Middle Eastern”: Facing My Racial Identity by Christina Jarad

University

Hunting for Heritage by Anderson Burdette

I Am a BLACK Woman by Brittany Hartung

Middle School

Advice From a Bad Asian

By Sebastian Cynn
Ethical Culture Fieldson School, Bronx, N.Y.

Apparently, I’m a bad Asian. Not a good Asian, not even a decent Asian, but a bad Asian. And, while some may consider me a good Asian since I get decent grades, play the violin, and take math courses outside of school, apparently, I’m not.

In my school, we have affinity groups. It’s where people of the same ethnicity talk to each other about their experiences. It’s a meeting of people who will understand your perspective best. In seventh grade, I decided to attend an affinity group meeting since I had heard a great deal about these groups. All I remember was being called a bad Asian again and again. I was called a bad Asian because I didn’t know how to use chopsticks. I was called a bad Asian because I didn’t know what bubble tea or K-pop was. Time and again, I was called a bad Asian because I didn’t know the things I was expected to know, and I didn’t do the things that I was expected to do. That meeting made me truly question my identity.

And that’s because I don’t meet all the conventional Asian criteria. I don’t do what society says I should. I don’t know any Asian languages. I don’t know the Asian holidays. I’m still learning how to use chopsticks. And, I’m fine with that. I’m fine with not meeting the criteria that society imposes on me and not knowing what society says I should know. Still, I had to ask myself a question. If I’m fine with not knowing and doing all the Asian things, am I really Asian? If I don’t accept all the parts of my identity, am I really Asian? Is Kayla DeVault right when she says in the YES! article “Native and European: How Do I Honor All Parts of Myself” “Simply saying ‘I am this’ isn’t enough”? Am I really Asian if I don’t participate in the culture? Am I really Asian if what I do says I’m not?

I considered those questions for a while and, eventually, I found my answer. Who I am is defined by me alone. My Asian identity is not decided by societal beliefs. I don’t need to check the boxes that society wants me to check. I don’t need to actively engage in the traditions. I don’t need to know everything about the Asian identity because being Asian is so much more. The Asian identity is not solely defined by the traditions and cultures of my ancestors who lived long ago. It is the result of everyone. It’s a tapestry of all Asians who lived, are living, and will live. Asian culture does not define Asian people, it’s the other way around. Asian culture changes because Asian people change. No matter how good or bad they may be, every Asian still gets to be Asian.

This is because you get to decide how you define your culture and identity. You get to decide what being you means and whether or not saying “I am this” is enough. No one should tell you otherwise. You shape your culture; you shouldn’t let it shape you. Even though I don’t know my culture, even though I don’t know my heritage, I am still Asian. Having an Asian identity doesn’t mean you have to be a good Asian or that you can’t carve your own path. Having an Asian identity doesn’t require that you know the culture or memorize all the traditions. Having an Asian identity simply means you are Asian. And, no one can change that but you.

Dominican-ish

Mia Guerrero
KIPP Washington Heights Middle School, New York, N.Y.

Yes, I may be a little bit whiter than most Dominicans but I don’t let that get to me and start questioning who I am. 

I’m Dominican. However, I was born here in the Bronx. It’s difficult being Dominican but born and raised in New York. I’m supposed to speak fluent Spanish. I’m supposed to listen to their music 24/7. I’m supposed to follow their traditions. I’m supposed to eat their foods. Yes, I may not speak Spanish. Yes, I may not listen to their kind of music, but I don’t think that defines who I am as a Dominican. I don’t think I should be discriminated for not being the same as most Dominicans. Nobody should be discriminated against for being different from the rest because sometimes different is good.

There’s always that one person that calls me White because I don’t speak fluent Spanish or I don’t listen to their type of music. I will always disagree with that because many Dominicans come in different types of skin colors. Yes, I may be a little bit whiter than most Dominicans but I don’t let that get to me and start questioning who I am. I have been discriminated every day and I’m tired of it because it’s not fair for people to be treated differently because of the way they look, like their skin color or how their hair is styled or where they came from.

It’s important for people who don’t know anything about where they came from to get to know their family traditions because it can help them understand their ancestors. I would do anything to learn more about the Dominican Republic and my ancestors because it may change my perspective on everything. I’ve been talking to my family members in Spanish and doing my best to get better, but it may take time because it’s something new though not completely new. 

Just like Kayla, I traveled to where my family is from to honor their traditions and to learn more about my heritage. In the summer of 2018, I went to the Dominican Republic and visited the places where my family grew up. I’m not going to lie, it wasn’t the prettiest thing because most people over there are poor and not able to afford nice things. However, they still find a way to make their home good enough for them because it’s important to them. It was amazing to see different types of adults, teenagers, and kids having the time of their life with only a few valuable things. They also made sure to provide for their families by farming their own crops and getting their own meals from the animals they had. This taught me that being a person of color can come not only with happiness and pride but also with hardship because you don’t know about the situation your family came from or how someone might treat you badly at any moment because of what you look like.

This is similar to Kayla because she thinks that we have to participate in order to honor our heritage. This experience has impacted me by increasing my desire to find out more information through my family. It has motivated me to learn more about where my ancestors came from. Also, it shows me that people of color should be proud of where they came from because it’s what makes them unique. People of color are the majority of the world, so we should honor where we come from and who our ancestors are.

Bridges and Broken Pieces

Gillian Okimoto
Ethical Culture Fieldston School, Bronx, N.Y.

Ever felt split across different people, like you act differently with different groups? Join the club.

Here’s my story. I am Japanese-Korean American, but I’m labeled as a “bad Asian” by some of my friends. I’m Bisexual, even though I call myself Gay. I have a mild obsession with Amandla Stenberg, an actor who played Madeline Whittier and Starr Carter and who is also nonbinary. My family is Korean and Japanese, and the majority of my family lives in America.

Sometimes I feel disconnected from my identifiers. When I hang out with some of my older friend groups, who are mainly White, straight kids, I don’t mention that I’m Asian or Gay, but as soon as I’m with my newer friends, I talk about my identifiers a lot. A lot of them are a part of the LGBTQ+ community and 11 out of 14 of them are people of color. With my grandparents, I am quieter—a good Asian grandchild who is smart, gets good grades, and is respectful. And, I don’t act “Gay.”

With my older friend group, I feel like the same person, but I don’t flaunt my identifiers as much as I do with my new friend group because they aren’t people of color and they are all straight. It’s still uncomfortable. Why do I have to act differently with different people? Why do I only feel comfortable with all of my identities at school? I know why I keep my sexual orientation quiet from my family, but why don’t I talk more? If I’m comfortable talking about my identifiers with my new friends, why should it be different with my old friends?

Being like this almost feels like being broken into pieces. I feel the need to act differently with different people. Does my family know all of the parts of me? My old friends know I’m Gay and I’m Asian, but why don’t we talk about it? Why do I need to show off that I’m different with my new friends, one of the most diverse and least popular friend groups in my grade?

My identifiers in pieces aren’t the problem—it’s my relationships. In the YES! article “Native and European – How Do I Honor All Parts of Myself,” Kayla DeVault writes, “It doesn’t matter how many pieces make up the whole; rather, it’s my relationship with those pieces that matters.” My relationships with my pieces are fine. What wasn’t right was that I didn’t show all of myself when I started my relationships.

I noticed the pattern but kept this to myself. I wished I could be my true self to everyone I met but that felt impossible. What if they hate me, shut me out? What if it messes things up? Relationships are bridges over a cavern —some are built on sturdy land, and they have a good structure. Sometimes, the other side is dangerous. Some bridges seem sturdy but lead to bad places. My bridges were built with the other sides not seeing the whole me, as if fog or smoke were obscuring their vision.

All bridges break or some need to be broken. Eventually, with the passing of time, they’re all gone if you don’t care for them.

In the last year, things started to change. I’ve become closer to my newer friends, and while I still spend time with my old friends, I’ve become more distant with them. I’ve started to speak my mind outside of school. My world is getting better. I’m clearing away the fog that’s hiding the real me.

Religion Without God? Works for Me

Joey Ravikoff
Ethical Culture Fieldston School, Bronx, N.Y.

Torah, Shema, yarmulke; all important elements of Jewish identity—except for mine. All these symbols assume the existence of a single God, but that just doesn’t resonate with me. Religion is a meaningful part of my family’s identity. After all, wanting to freely practice their religion was what brought my great grandparents to America from Eastern Europe. I could never wrap my head around the concept of God because of my strong interest in science. Can I be Jewish while not believing in God?

I must be able to be Jewish because I am Jewish. My parents are Jewish and, therefore, regardless of my beliefs, I am a Jew. Unlike many other religions, being Jewish doesn’t require you to accept any specific ideology or beliefs, all it requires is that you be born to a Jewish parent. But what does that mean for my Jewish identity?

For me, the best part of being Jewish is the holidays. Spending time with family and friends all gathered at the dinner table enjoying food and each other’s company is the perfect escape from day-to-day life. From the Afikoman on Passover to the Shabbat candles and wonderful food, it’s that “smells like mom’s world-famous brisket” kind of feeling that puts it all together for me. It makes me happy to be away from all the schoolwork and responsibilities, happy to feel at home, happy to be Jewish.

Indeed, the most notable Jewish experiences for me have nothing to do with God, but instead have to do with interacting with others, such as my family members and Hebrew school teachers. They told me to be curious, curious about the world around me, and to question it. Yet, when I told my Hebrew school principal that I did not believe in God, rather than being shocked or upset, he, to my surprise, supported my thoughts and encouraged me to keep questioning what being Jewish could mean to me.

This year, after Kol Nidre, I asked my rabbi “Why do you fast for Yom Kippur?” He took a long moment to think, and then said, “I fast because every Jew in the world is fasting today.” That was interesting to me because we are often taught not to do something just because everyone else is doing it. But here my rabbi was not saying to do something because everyone else was doing it, but rather because every Jew was doing it. Jews are two percent of the United States population and less than one percent of the world’s, but wherever they are, all of this tiny minority participates in the same act. That fascinates me. It was then that I began to understand what being Jewish means to me. I could stay true to my religion and family roots, not by honoring each and every word in the Torah, or by praying to God every week, but by participating in Jewish traditions.

“I never questioned my identity,” Kayla DeVault writes in her YES! article “Native and European—How Do I Honor All Parts of Myself?” I always questioned mine, and now I’m starting to find some answers. I don’t feel connected to the Torah, a yarmulke, or the Shema. But that’s okay. Instead, I relate to experiences such as celebrating holidays, hunting for the Afikoman, and eating traditional foods. Maybe it’s because I’m part of a generation that is collectively starting to value experiences over things. Religion is one of the hardest things in the world to truly understand, and by no means have I figured it out. But I’m happy to say I’m on my way.

High School

Not Just Transgender

Sebastian Davies-Sigmund
Kirkwood High School, Kirkwood, Mo.

I’m sitting in front of my mother in our living room, my heart pounding. I am watching her forehead for creases that will tell me how upset she is. After this moment, will I ever be the same? I think about how my nana couldn’t call me ‘Sebastian.’ Holidays with my family feels like I’m suffocating in a costume. I’ve come out twice in my life. First, as a lesbian in middle school. Second, as a transgender man freshman year. I’ve gotten good at the classic sit-down with hands folded neatly in front of me, composure quiet and well kept, although I’m always terrified. For my whole life, I’ve grappled with who I am, who I want to be, and how I want the world to see me. Since coming out in April of 2018, I have constantly been fighting for my individuality and making desperate attempts to hold on to the person I was before everyone saw me as different. 

I knew from a young age my identity wasn’t crystal clear. I wanted to be one of the boys, but I was trapped in what everyone else told me: I was a girl. When I said I hated my name, the people in my life told me that couldn’t be true. I refused to be seen as a sister or daughter. I wanted to get out of this body that never matched me. My life has been an undying battle to secure my identity in something concrete, but still, be seen as me. The kid who loves horses and dogs. The writing nerd. The more I fight this, the more I realize I will not be the person I used to be because the world will not allow that. I’ve had friends leave my life simply because they didn’t want to accept me. Some of my family still won’t use the right name and words to describe me, telling me; “God made you a girl.” Either I speak too much or not enough. Like it is somehow my job to be the spokesperson for an entire marginalized group of people. One time, as I was heading to class, I heard someone shout my birth name through the hall. I felt my heart squeeze, I sighed before turning around. A student I’d known for years ran up and gave me a tight hug. She said hello and we exchanged a few words before she jumped to a question I wasn’t prepared for. 

“Wait, you’re transgender?”

“Yes …”

“Wait— does that mean you have a penis?” 

I was too shocked to even bother answering the question. My mouth hung open for a moment until I turned to rush down the hall, turning up the music in my earbuds. I know people have questions, I know people want answers, but I am not Google. 

So, this brings me back to the same question: How can I still be me when no one looks at me that way anymore? How do I live with being defined as transgender? I think the key is to reject any form of what other people want me to be. I am transgender and also a person. I can hold multiple identities, and they enhance who I am instead of hindering it. Yes, I am transgender, but I am also a son, a friend, an aspiring writer and a dog trainer. I love riding horses. I’ve had the same volunteer job since sixth grade. I love music and trips to the art museum. I know who I am and whether other people choose to see me for those things is out of my control. In Kayla DeVault’s YES! article “Native and European—How Do I Honor All Parts of Myself?” she writes, “I am entitled to my multiple heritages.” The small pieces of our identities ultimately make us who we are. Feeling safe in our identities has to be less about how others see us and more about how we see ourselves.

WHITE BLACK OTHER BIRACIAL MULTIRACIAL HUMAN

Amaela Bruce
New Tech Academy at Wayne High School, Fort Wayne, Ind.

I sit down on the cold, black chair and listen as the teacher explains our instructions for this survey. My white chipped fingernails pull up the laptop screen. The screen, in response, flashes black and white. My finger directs the mouse to the questions, and I begin carefully typing my address, gender, and birthdate, occasionally using the auto-fill to ease my fingers’ burdens. I scroll down.

What is your race/ethnicity? (select all that apply) 

My mind carelessly shifts to prior years when I was forced to painfully decide which parent I was going to honor. Would I click White? Would I click Black? Or, would I check “other” to acknowledge my uncertainty? Blasted back to the past by my teacher’s voice, I click Caucasian for my father’s Scottish, British and German roots and the European piece of my mother. I apprehensively click African American for my mother’s father, guiltily hoping that this “diverse click” will make my answers valuable. I keep scrolling. Did I miss something? What if those voices guessing my ethnicity are right? 

Years ago, claiming multiple races was frowned upon. Now, it is seen as a superpower, yet, for me, it carries untold responsibilities, rare opportunities, and sometimes uncomfortable situations. 

 Like Kayla DeVault wrote in her YES! article “Native and European—How Do I Honor All Parts of Myself?” “When I was older, the questions came, which made me question myself.” The echoing voices demand: 

“Who are you?”  

“What are you?” 

“What are you mixed with?” 

“I don’t know.” I reply “I’m not dominantly any race.” Those empty words are nothing but a muse, only meant to distract from the fact that my unknown race terrifies me. But is that who I am? my mind demands. I repeat those dull words to evade those stereotypes that are invisibly etched by my traits, not my cultures. In an effort to break free from the stereotypes and racism that I find chained to my public persona, I have separated myself from the race and ethnicity I once knew. 

My family has never truly been connected to a specific culture; my family tends to celebrate multiple ethnicities. I walk into the kitchen often greeted by my mother sitting on her usual stool and the rich smells of culture: the spicy smell of India, the hearty aroma of cooked beans, or the sizzling hiss of burgers on the grill. 

Despite these great smells, I find myself often yearning for something that my friends have—one distinct culture with its own food, people, music, and traditions.

 I don’t have a one-click culture. 

That can be freeing, but also intimidating.  

People who know me see me as a fraction: 1/4 black and 3/4 white, but I am not a fraction. 

I am human, just human. 

Through my connection to multiple ethnicities and races, I have gained great wisdom. I can see others beyond their fractions and portions. I embrace them as a whole, admiring how all the portions blend into a beautiful picture of humanity. 

However, I still yearn to sit a bustling table listening to my grandparents tell their homeland stories; while eating food from our beloved home. I yearn to know my roots. 

I have a dream that my children would be able to experience the many meals and traditions of cultures that are their own, and those that aren’t their own. 

I have a dream that my children will live in a world where we don’t split people into categories or fractions. Where we stand hand in hand accepting our differences and acknowledging our similarities. 

Capital G

Amara Lueker
Wayne High School, Fort Wayne, Ind.

My voice is quickly drowned out by those of my family; Grandpa’s low baritone, Grandma’s soft falsetto, Uncle’s loud, deaf attempt at harmonizing. I look to the stained glass above. The sun shines through, and as the church hall is filled with the voices of Grace Lutheran Church’s congregation, I wish I was anywhere but there. 

My parents raised me without religion or constraints. They allowed their only daughter to choose for herself what she would believe, where she would gather her morals and to whom she would devote herself eternally forever and ever and ever.

Or not. At home, I did not attend church, read scripture, or learn the word of god. Around family, it was a different story. 

You’re wearing that? My grandmother gives me a disapproving stare, clearly displeased with the outfit I have chosen for church that day. My fashion sense never seemed up to par for the big man upstairs. Does god really care if my shirt is ironed?

I visited her dozens of times as a child, listened to her sermons, and heard her prayers, but I remember little from our time together. Bits and pieces of Scripture, hymns, and stories still reside in my memory, but I never connected to the message and I never believed. 

My face heats, I look at my shoes. The mere mention of his name and the room fills my chest with a heavy tension. I wish I had kept quiet. I knew what would happen; every time it’s the same. 

“We just don’t want you to go to hell.”

I am not an atheist. I am not agnostic. I have no religion, nor do I stand strong in any one belief. My answer to the mystery of life is simple: I don’t know.

But I live in a world full of people who think they do. 

My lack of religion has led me to be laughed at, ridiculed, and resented. An absence of belief is a concept a conditioned mind is unable to process. 

They move to me quickly, their faces masked with an unjustified rage. The accusations they spew at me seem to echo throughout the lunchroom. I feel eyes on me, neighboring tables looking over at the commotion. I want to speak, to shout, to cry, but my throat closes and I sit in silence; every time, it’s the same.

Religion was created to repress the fear that constantly looms over our heads. Death, purpose, existence; religion eases all.

However, I am not fearful. And I am no longer ashamed.

Unlike Kayla DeVault, who states in her YES! article “Native and European—How Do I Honor All Parts of Myself?” that in order “to truly honor my heritage, I found I must understand and participate in it,” I choose to respect the beliefs of my family without participation. I do not wish to join the weekly trips to church, to say grace, to worship, or to devote myself to another. I simply wish to remain me, to remain free.

The underlying discomfort surrounding religion that has strained my relationships between family and friends over the years needs to come to an end. We must respect differences and put aside fear; in doing so, we will honor one another. 

 There will be a day when that capital G does not control my conversations. There will be a day when I can speak my beliefs, or lack thereof, without judgment, without the odd stare, and without contempt. That day will come when a life without religion is just another life. That is the day I wait for. That day will be Good. 

Many Years Ago and Today

Luz Zamora
Woodburn Academy of Art, Science, and Technology, Woodburn, Ore.

“¡Correle!” yell the people around him. He runs to the grass, ducks down, and starts to wait. He’s nervous and smells of the saltiness of sweat. He looks up and hears the chopping of helicopter blades. Beams of light fall and weave through the grass field.

The others don’t wait. They don’t know when it is going to be over, so they run and try to escape the bright beams of light and the chopping of air. Running to the side of the road, just out of reach, they are tackled from behind and detained. Soon, the only thing filling the air is the song of crickets and the huff of breath coming from the tall grass.

Out of a group of thirteen, only four are left hidden. He and the others cross and meet up with people they know who will take them from their own land down south to the opportunity within grasp up north.

That was my father many years ago. I’ve only asked for that story once, and now it’s committed to memory.

This story has impacted me in such a way that I’ve grown up longing to see what my father had, what he grew up with. I’ve always loved to listen to stories, especially places I’ve never been to. People look at me and know that I must have heritage from Mexico. They may label me as illegal when I have the same rights as they do. I know the same language they do, but they don’t know where I’m from.

They don’t know that half of me is from Janitzio, Michoacán and that the other half is from Municipio de Pénjamo, Guanajuato. My dad told me that instead of hearing the crickets sing, he heard the frogs and toads croak. My mother was born in the United States, but because my grandparents were from the same place in Mexico they were able to share their culture with my mother and her siblings.

My siblings and I have grown up listening to the descriptions of places my family is from; when my mom tells me of my grandma’s house in Mexico, I can see the lime tree in the middle of the property and hear the frogs croak from the lake by my dad’s house.

The last time I went to Mexico, I was too young to remember anything. When I try to remember, all I see is thick fog that covers everything and shadows. My mom tells me that my family in Mexico knows what we look like, but they don’t know how we sound. At least they know who we are.

Sometimes I get tired of hearing the stories, but I almost always come back to wanting to hear them again. Because I don’t know all the parts of me, I’m stuck with nostalgia, with the places covered with fog. The faces of my family are all but perfect pictures in my mind. To me, their faces are hidden by cloaks of shadows, recalled only by pictures. I see the pictures, again and again, to constantly refresh my memory.

Pictures are moments in time, stuck in the same place after years, even after the person in them has grown old. Pictures bring nostalgia and sadness and happiness and laughter, too. All the pictures we have at home serve a purpose. Like Kayla DeVault, author of the YES! article “Native and European—How Do I Honor All Parts of Myself?,” we use pictures to remind us of our loved ones whom we can’t see all the time—even the ones who won’t come back. I remember looking through the drawers in my mom’s room. Sifting through photos, I found places, aunts, uncles, cousins, funerals, weddings, parties, food, and family I’ve never seen before. 

I hope to add to my mom’s collection of photographs. I never got to hear the end of my dad’s story, just some bits and pieces. I hope that the actual ending was amazing, even the sequels through the eyes of his children: Crystal, Javier, Luz, Rebecca, and Emilio.

Wait a Minute… Who ARE You?

Mei Li Ana Babuca
Chief Sealth International High School, Seattle, Wash.

“What do you consider your ancestral or ethnic identity?” That’s the prompt for this essay, and boy, what a prompt it is. How should I answer? Should I go with my mother’s family and call myself a Chinese-American? Or should I choose my father’s side and identify myself as Mexican? Or, do I shove it all into one big title? No, that’s much too long and no one wants to listen to that. Selecting only one side of my family feels like a lie. Do I owe these people the whole truth of myself? Do I need to explain myself? Is it even worth trying? I know that no matter what I say, people who see me are gonna assume I’m an attention-seeking White person. Or is that my own fear creeping into my perception of myself? Since I’ve never had strong connections to my family’s culture, am I even allowed to identify with it? All I know is that no matter what I say, I’ll feel like a liar. 

Let’s start with what I know; I know that my parents weren’t born here. My father was born in Imuris, Mexico and immigrated to Tucson when he was six years old, and my mother is a Chinese American army brat. Her mother, my grandmother, was a Chinese person living in Taiwan because of the Chinese Communist Revolution. You would think that with me being so close to the source of culture, I would know a lot more, but it seems that with immigration, assimilation, and the move from Tucson to Seattle, quite a few traditions got lost.

How do I identify myself? What do I connect to? What’s important to you?

Here’s the answer, I don’t. Don’t have a strong connection, don’t know the traditions, don’t even know the languages. I eat some of the food and kinda sorta halfa** the major holidays, but when I think about it I don’t know anything important. I think that the strongest connection to my family is in my name, Mei Li (Chinese for “beautiful”) Ana (a variation on my mother’s very American middle name, Anne) Babuca (my father’s Mexican last name). 

I found myself connecting to Kayla DeVault in an interesting way when I read her YES! article “Native and European—How Do I Connect with All Parts of Myself?” Both of us grew up without really questioning who we are and who our ancestors were, and both of us have wondered about our ancestors. But, we also have a big difference. While Kayla knew how she identified herself, I have never quite been able to. Maybe part of that was because while, yes, there was a distance between Kayla and her ancestors, her family still worked to pass down their culture to her. Meanwhile, here I am sitting in the dark. 

I need to know family recipes, stories, and traditions. I want someone to tell me all the things I want to know and teach me all the things I need to learn, but I know that that won’t happen. Part of the responsibility falls on my parents and my parents’ parents for not passing on their cultures. I am also responsible for not asking all the questions I needed to ask. I guess I should start on that. It’s time for me to start learning.

So, back to that question: What do I consider my ancestral or ethnic identity? I don’t really know yet. Maybe I’ll just stick with my name for now.               

Hi, I’m Mei Li Ana Babuca! 🙂

Future Answers

Genevieve Francois
Kirkwood High School, Kirkwood, Mo.

I read a prompt spread across a purple page. Once again, someone who will never know the full me was asking about my identity. Almost by instinct, my body repulsed as these words triggered a flood of emotion inside of me. Disappointment spread throughout me as my shoulders sagged. My head went down, and I got to work on an all-too-familiar task. This question has become all-consuming. I am a minority. Not a moment of my life goes by when I am not isolated by who I am. Writing about the prejudices I face has become second nature. These prompts swirl above my head like a looming storm cloud. My hand could simply dip into the gray mass, and pick one of many topics. I am the diversity dream; every college wants me on the front of their brochure. Not because I want to be but because I have no choice. I could not choose my diverse background, nor do I get to choose how I identify with it; society has chosen for me. 

Similar to author Kayla DeVault in her YES! article “Native and European-How Do I Honor All Parts of Myself?” “the questions came, which made me question myself.” To me, the hardest struggle has been being forced to identify myself.  From the outside, it may seem grand to let kids like me have a voice. In theory, letting us share our stories with a more common audience is great the first five times. When the realization came that I was different, I was ecstatic. I felt on top of the world when I could point to so many places on the map where my ancestors lived. I, alone, could discuss the different places I have lived. Getting to explain my story to my classmates’ wide eyes put me on a pedestal. The “Most Ethnically Ambiguous” award has lost its magic, and I am ready to hand it back. 

No longer do I wish to be stared at when civil rights and slavery are discussed. In every Socratic seminar, I shudder as expectant white faces turn to mine. My brown skin does not make me the ambassador for Black people everywhere. Please do not expect me to be the racism police anymore. Do not base the African American experience upon my few words. Do not try to be relatable when mentioning Hanukkah is in a few days. Telling me that you tell your White friends not to say the N-word doesn’t do anything for me. 

Despite assumptions made by outward appearance, my diverse background does not define me. All of these pieces come together to make me. A puzzle not quite complete with several pieces jammed in incorrectly. I try my best to embrace and love every aspect that comes together to create me. What I identify with the most is the fellow group of minority teens tired of having to discuss what makes us different. The societal pressure put upon us to be the spokesperson and the connection between us and other races is backbreaking. It does not allow us to discover our identities and share who we are. It backs us into a corner and creates a sense that this is what we have to offer to the world and is the basis of our being.  To us, this is not all that we are. At our age, we question so much about ourselves. What I ask is that people stop asking me about my identity and let me discover who I am first. Then, I will get back to you.

What IS My Identity?

Yazmin Perez
Wichita North High School, Wichita, Kan.

So, my identity…if I’m being completely honest, at this point in my life, I’m not too sure what my identity is. Here’s what I know about my ethnic identity. First of all, I have no idea who my ancestors are, so don’t ask me. I’m pretty sure I’m fully Mexican. I was born here in America, in Wichita, Kansas. My whole family is from Kansas, too. We have never been traditionally Mexican American. We don’t celebrate things like Cinco de Mayo and I never had a Quinceañera.

My whole life I have felt like I don’t belong in the Mexican category. I mean yeah, I’m fully Mexican but, I’ve always felt like I wasn’t. Why is that you ask? Well, I feel that way because I don’t know Spanish. Yes, that’s the reason. It may not sound like a big deal, but, for me, I’ve always felt disconnected from my race. I felt shameful. I felt like it was an obligation to know what is supposed to be my mother tongue. My whole family doesn’t really know fluent Spanish and that has always bothered me growing up. I can remember from my earliest years of school, most of my classmates were Mexican and spoke Spanish. They were always so judgmental when they figured out I didn’t know Spanish. It was always the same comments like, “What? You don’t know Spanish? But you’re Mexican!” or “How do you not know Spanish? Are you even Mexican?” These comments always made me feel left out.

It was like I was an outsider to my own race.

So, freshman year of high school, I did something to help change that. I took a Spanish class. Let me tell you something—learning a new language is hard! Everything was so difficult and confusing, but I got through it. I took another Spanish class sophomore year. I finished and passed both years but I still had no clue how to speak Spanish! Honestly, I gave up after that and didn’t take it my junior year. I came to the conclusion that it’s okay for me not to know. Me not knowing Spanish isn’t what identifies me.

Someday in the future, I would love to learn my language and explore more about my culture and ancestry. Right now, at my age, I can only identify myself with the things that make me, me. One thing that I can always be proud of and how I express myself is my gift for drawing. Drawing has always been something I can be confident about. My talent has never let me down. I have always been known as the “artist” in the family. I love that. My passion for art is a huge thing that I can confidently say identifies me.

Like I said, in the future, I would love to dig deeper into the discovery of my roots. Someday, I would like to travel to the places of my ancestors, just like Kayla DeVault did, as she mentioned in her YES! article “Native and European-How Do I Honor All Parts of Myself?” I would like to know when, where, and how my family tree began to grow. Someone I have always been curious about is my great-great-grandma from my dad’s side. My dad showed me a picture of her and told me that she was also an artist. She’s probably the one who passed down her artistic ability to me. Kayla DeVault made a huge effort to take the time to study and put forth effort into embracing all parts of her identities. I hope to do that too when I figure out what my identity truly is.

Ancestry vs. Personal Experience: Which is More Important? 

Chase Deleon
Central York High School, York, Pa.

I believe differently from Kayla DeVault, author of the YES! article, “Native and European-How Do I Honor All Parts of Myself?” She believes it’s important to connect and participate with your heritage. I believe that our personal pasts have more to do with who we are as people than any national identity ever could. Sure, our heritage is important, but it doesn’t do nearly as much to shape our character and perspective as our struggles and burdens do. Out of all my past experiences, illness—especially mental illness—has shaped me.  

I struggle with anxiety and depression, which can make life a living hell. This has affected me for almost half my life and led to many negative coping skills, making things worse. When I first developed these illnesses, I stopped talking most of the time unless I was spoken to. I distanced myself from the few friends I had, only compounding the loneliness often associated with depression. I was terrified of being judged by my peers, which made me become a different person than I wanted. 

As a man, I was taught from a young age to suck it up, to deal with things and to keep quiet and not talk about my feelings—to suffer silently—something most boys are taught by our mothers and fathers. Meanwhile, our female peers are taught that it’s okay to cry, okay to show emotion, okay to talk. Society tells men we’re supposed to be big, stoic, strong people that others can depend on. However, men need support in tough times, as well. We also need an outlet when life drags us into the pits of sadness and despair. 

When I lost people in my family, I internalized my emotions like I was told to. I didn’t talk about it to anyone because if I did, society would label me weak. I didn’t wear my emotions on my face. I put on a mask, a farce, so that everyone would think I was a strong person but that mask was one made of poison. Slowly, those hidden emotions corroded my will and my image. All of the pain, hurt, and sadness weighed on my heart like a thousand boulders, crushing my hope and withering away my happiness. I was worn down, and it took a while to realize that it was a real problem. This toxic idea of how men are supposed to be, along with all of the negative events that I went through, led to depression and anxiety. The fear of people finding out that I wasn’t a strong person made me even less willing to talk about my issues. All of this brought me to an endless spiral of sadness until I attempted the unthinkable. I was in a dark place at the time, but have since gotten through and I’m doing better now. That’s not to say that I don’t still struggle from time to time; it’s something I will live with for the rest of my life.  

However, there is good that came from this. It changed how I view people with mental illnesses. I learned compassion beyond what I could have without my affliction. It has made me realize what kind of person I hope to be. After struggling with this for so many years and coming out the other side, I now have boundless emotional and mental awareness of myself and others. This is why I believe that no matter your ethnic or cultural background, your own experiences shape who you are much more than anything else in this world. 

Putting the Middle in “Middle Eastern”: Facing My Racial Identity

Christina Jarad
University Liggett School, Grosse Pointe Woods, Mich.

Like Kayla DeVault, I share many memories of my heritage in the kitchen. Similar to an assembly line from my hometown of Detroit, my sister, mother, and I sat, wrapping grape leaves and placing them in the tundra or pot. See, I was never 100 percent fluent in Arabic. However, I grew up with those little words sprinkled throughout my vocabulary. They slowly made me capable of understanding Arabic, but not always as capable when responding. 

My parents are immigrants from Syria. They came here seeking The American Dream and through hard work and determination, they were fortunate enough to find what they were looking for. 

When I was growing up, my mother worked hard to become fluent in English with the goal of perfecting those little things that make a non-native speaker stick out. She often played Disney films on the VCR for my little brother and me. My mother sat in the living room with a notepad memorizing pronunciations, while my brother and I sat in front of the TV mesmerized. We longed for the lives of those characters displayed before our very eyes. 

Perhaps this was my first contact with an ideal image that I found hard to shake. All those characters in front of me were not me. Not a single one of them. The one I could “identify” with promoted extreme stereotypes and gross depictions of my culture that made me feel ashamed. “Barbaric, but hey, it’s home” is a LITERAL line from the film. This mystical town of Agrabah was a mythical town of lies for me. That doesn’t mean I don’t have my appreciation for Lea Salonga’s “A Whole New World,” but a magic carpet ride was the least this film could give me to find peace in the problem it stirred in me.  

I found myself trying to erase “Arab-American” out of my identity to appeal and fit in more at school and in society. Slowly, I opted out of the dabke at weddings, I stopped eating some of the traditional foods I grew up with, and I even questioned visiting some of my family members because they pushed tradition as if it was a park swing. I thought my hard work was paying off but no amount of headbands and ponytails could ever erase my curly hair, tanned complexion, and “distinguished” eye circles (yes, apparently that is a thing).  

Honestly, I don’t have a clear answer for you about how I got to my current feelings about my identity—which is appreciative. Growing older is a big factor in this and really changed my perspective and attitude.  

Within recent years, I have worked hard to better myself. This is why Kayla DeVault’s words in her YES! article, “Native and European—How Do I Honor All Parts of Myself?” resonated with me so much. “It doesn’t matter how many pieces make up my whole; rather, it’s my relationship with those pieces that matters…” I can now run that whole grape leaf assembly line, along with other traditional plates, by myself. I have begun speaking out on current topics such as Middle-Eastern representation in acting. I have become so much closer with my relatives and I don’t mind busting a move with them on the dance floor. Although a trip to Syria is not in my near future, DeVault made me realize that a connection to your geographical cultural roots is important. According to my aunt, I have become a carefree, happy, and more passionate person. I no longer feel stuck in the middle of ethnicity and society. Becoming one with and embracing my identity truly is “A Whole New World.” 

University

Hunting for Heritage

Anderson Burdette
Northern Oklahoma University, Stillwater, Okla.

I have often found myself feeling quite disassociated with the word “heritage”. I come from a family with a French last name, but no French ties. I have Irish and Native American blood coursing through my veins but no ties to the ancestral traditions of my forefathers. I felt as though a part of life was missing until my grandparents took DNA tests, revealing many of the most cherished aspects of my life closely aligned with those of my distant Apache ancestors.

After learning that both of my grandfathers were part Apache, I decided to conduct some research in an attempt to shed light on a small piece of my genetic cornerstone. I read of how the Apache people conquered the plains throughout the West, following herds of buffalo and hunting many of the native species roaming the vast plains, solely for the survival of their people. The Apache would follow the herds of buffalo, relying on the meat to feed their families and using the fat to cook with and use in art. The hides of the buffalo would be used in making clothes, shoes, shelter, and leather. Hunting was not just for food; it was the foundation of their culture.

In A Sand County Almanac, by Aldo Leopold, it states, “Some men can live without wild things and others cannot.” After reading this, I felt a connection to the author, being someone who lives for the outdoors, and longs for the next adventure in the wilderness. I have always been an avid hunter and fisherman but most importantly and avid outdoorsman. I have hunted from Louisiana to the Rocky Mountains of Wyoming. I have tempted fish with flies at the end of a long line in tiny mountain streams in New Mexico as well as the deep waters of the Gulf. The location has never mattered. The fish on the end of the line and the meat in the freezer have never mattered. What has always mattered to me is living a life connected to the species that have roamed these lands for thousands of years.

Not long after learning of my small amount of Apache heritage, I ventured out on a hunt for the elusive prong horned antelope in west Texas. As I sat on a hilltop, glassing over what seemed to be a never-ending ocean of grass and sage, I felt a connection to my ancestors that I had never experienced. Had my forefathers sat on this same hill looking for Bison or even an antelope like myself? Who knows. What I do know is that the lands I wander in the west are the same ones my ancestors wandered long. These lands have provided people with life for thousands of years and the tradition continues today. Tragically, we are seeing these wild lands slowly disappearing. Cities are expanding rapidly, and fences are splitting the prairies apart at the seams, but no matter what, I will hunt.

While my bow is not made of wood and my arrows lack a traditional stone tip, the connections are always present, whether I am stalking bull elk in foothills of the Rockies or fly fishing in the mystical White River. While the methods and the technologies may be different, the motivations are the same. It is a need to be connected to where my food originates. It is a desire to live in harmony with untouched lands. It is a longing to live wild, in a time where the wild is disappearing before our eyes.

I Am a BLACK WOMAN

Brittany Hartung
Spring Hill College, Mobile, Ala.

Black people always say that White people don’t use seasoning. This is one of those sayings that I’ve heard but never understood. I am Black, and I was adopted into a White household. Therefore, these sayings that people of my culture apparently know make no sense or just seem wrong to me. Even though I identify as a Black woman, I have struggled all my life with breaking into the Black culture because people around me consciously or unconsciously prevent me from doing so.

A recent memory of my struggle takes place in my high school anatomy class with one of my best friends. The teacher started to talk about getting more African American students to take this class, and then went on to say “See, there is only one Black student in this class.” My best friend at the time, who was sitting right next to me, said, “There are no Black students in this class” and laughed. Then she said “Ooh shoot,” and turned to look at me and laughed while saying “I forgot you are Black.” This was so upsetting to me because all my life I have felt that I am Black, and my mother has worked so hard to make me know where I came from.

My mother tried her hardest to incorporate Black culture into my upbringing. She hung art around our house when she adopted me back in 1998—when Black people were not often depicted in art. Granted, the art she displayed was not always relevant to her two Black daughters. My mother has tried to shape my view and expression of my identity in line with her impression of positivity and acceptance. For example, she would say “Use proper English” whenever I used slang and “We don’t listen to that kind of music” when I played rap music. The one person who I could always count on to help me to connect to my Black culture was my sister. As DeVault said in her YES! article “Native and European-How Do I Honor All Parts of Myself?,” “I began to wonder how to authentically participate in my heritages when I cannot physically live in them all at once.” It was hard for me to embrace my culture living in an all-White community. I don’t know how to interact and fit into a Black community and, quite frankly, it frightens me to be in a completely Black community. I have been trying to spend more time with groups of people of my race so I can feel more comfortable.

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What happens when students are exposed to YES!? They start to see themselves as change agents. They recognize their own power to influence the future.

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Young people know they’re inheriting a world scarred by inequity and climate change. They’re brimming with passion for building something better. But the typical school curriculum does little to inform or engage them with today’s issues.

That’s why teachers tell us all the time that they rely on YES! to inspire and motivate their students.

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Images, photos, and pictures stimulate the mind. For the viewer, they offer a chance to connect and question. They also offer potential for play and imagination, and pulling the observer into purposeful messages.

Most often, newspaper and magazine readers take a quick glance at photos and their captions. With this YES! lesson plan, you and your students can luxuriate—and pause—to truly understand an image, its message, and why it’s interesting (or not).

Download this lesson as a PDF.

Step 1: What do you notice?

Ask your students to make sense of the photograph by trusting their instincts of observation and inference. The image offers possibilities and interpretations beyond a typical reading where the reader glances at a photograph to reinforce its title or caption. Do not introduce any facts, captions, or other written words. In response to the question “What do you notice?” you may hear: Round bulbs; streaks of orange, yellow, and brown; shiny shapes in a row.

Step 2: What are you wondering?

After you’ve heard your students’ first observations, you may hear a peppering of questions: Why are these shapes arranged in rows? Can you pull them apart? What do they feel like—are they squishy or hard? How big is each individual one?

This is a good time to reveal the photo’s caption and other information about the photo. Watch how the conversation shifts from what they believe to be true to discerning the facts about the photo.

Photo Caption:

“Indian Corn.” Photo by Nancybelle Gonzaga Villarroya

Photo Facts:

• Flint corn, also called Indian corn, is one of the oldest varieties of corn and was a staple food for Indigenous peoples in the Americas. Indian corn has been an ingredient in succotash, mush, tortillas, hominy, nixtamal, cornbreads, and fry breads for centuries. Today, flint corn is grown primarily in Central and South America. It is used for eating and decoration. 

• Zea mays is the botanical name for corn or maize.  Until at least the turn of the 20th century, Americans typically referred to all corn as Indian corn. Maize, a Spanish derivative of the Arawak or Taino word mahiz, is the preferred term by Britain and most of the world. 

• Corn is the nation’s biggest crop. The Corn Belt is Indiana, Illinois, Iowa, Missouri, Nebraska, and Kansas. One acre of corn eliminates 8 tons of carbon dioxide from the air.

• Corn is found in three out of four supermarket products; there are more than 35,000 uses for corn, such as making flour, ethanol, and plastic, and feeding livestock. 

• High fructose corn syrup started being manufactured in the 1970s. In 2009, it was estimated that the average American consumes more than 35.7 pounds of corn sweetener each year.

• Corn makes a cow’s normally pH neutral stomach acidic. As a result, cattle are more likely to suffer from health issues, such as bloating and liver damage. To counter the negative effects, cattle are fed antibiotics and consume 70 percent of total antibiotics in the U.S.

Additional Resources:

LEARN:  Who Invented Candy Corn? (History Channel)

READ: Tribes Revive Indigenous Crops and the Food Traditions that Go with Them (NPR) 

WATCH: Why Corn is the Most Sacred Crop (Forklore) 

EXPLORE: King Corn—a feature documentary about two friends, one acre of corn, and the subsidized crop that drives our fast-food nation.

Step 3: What next?

1. You may have been taught that dandelions, nettles, and blackberries are weeds that should be removed, while others see these plants having medicinal or other benefits. What plants have you been taught are native or invasive? What is lost (or gained) when native plants or crops, like Indian corn, have disappeared from our fields and forests?
2. Globalization gives us year-round access to food products that are typically considered seasonal or foreign due to preservation methods and quick transportation processes. Look in your pantry and refrigerator. Where does your food come from? Does sourcing influence which foods you buy? Can you go without strawberries in the winter?  
3. Some manufacturers, plus the beef industry, use corn to save money, even though corn may not be the healthiest alternative. In an interview about cattle farming, journalist Michael Pollan says getting a six-month-old calf off grass and on corn speeds up their lifespan, gets them really fat, and allows you to slaughter them within 14 months. How are our consumer choices impacted by industry practices? To what extent do you feel like you have autonomy over the purchases available to you?
4. Through the Farm Bill and agricultural subsidies, the government attempts to protect food supply and production from extreme weather and economic crises and ensure farmers can sell their crop above a certain price—in other words, keep farmers in business. Payments don’t go to improving farm practices, like drought prevention, or diversifying crops. The majority of the payments go to the largest producers of corn, soybeans, wheat, cotton, and rice. Do you think subsidies are a good practice? Describe how you might like to see government’s role in the agriculture industry change. What farmers would they help and how?

The stories in our Death Issue refute the notion that we should steer of death or dance around. A death positivity movement is shifting our mindset about death from crisis-filled to natural and not traumatic.   

In this “Let’s Talk About” edition,  we offer questions that push your students’ “growing edge” and ease them into discussions not only to talk more openly about death but also to shape their lives in a positive way. We’ll look at how to talk about death so we may have a better life, honor the dead, and choose green burials that connect us to the Earth.

You and your students can learn more about a “good death” by exploring stories in the Death Issue.

How to Use This Collection

Suggested below are steps to a thoughtful and meaningful discussion with your students about death. Choose what is appropriate for your class.

1. Read at least one YES! article
   
2. Use the discussion questions—or craft your own—to gauge your students’ understanding and opinions.
   
3. Provide a safe environment where all students can voice their opinions honestly without fear of being judged or silenced.
   
4. Good conversations take time. Encourage personal reflection, understanding different perspectives and experience, and respect for complexity.
   

NOTE: Some students have, unfortunately, already experienced the loss of a friend, relative, or community member. Please be aware that this discussion could trigger vulnerable emotions. Proceed with care and sensitivity. You know your students best.

Warm-Up and Leave-Behind Questions 

Warm-up questions

• What are your initial thoughts about death?
  
• What have your parents or relatives told you about death? How have these conversations shaped the way you think about death?
  
• What personal experience or connection do you have with the loss of a loved one or someone in your community?
  

Leave-behind questions

• How has your thinking about death changed after reading any of the YES! articles and discussing death with your classmates?
  
• Describe how you would like people to remember you.
  
• How will you make things that are important to you known to other people?
  

Articles and Discussion Questions

1.  7 Things People Forget to Do Before They Die 

Having a “good death” requires research, planning, and intentional thinking about how you want to be remembered.

• Which of the seven “bucket list” items would you pursue to prepare your own “good death?” How might it help you have a better life now?
• Tell us more about other things you’d like to do before you die.

2. Return to Nature 

Natural burials are becoming a more popular alternative to conventional casket burials at a cemetery. These green burials are seen as more environmental, less polluting, and a way to personally connect to the land.

• What would be your primary reason for choosing a green burial (or not)?
  
• Considering the increasing negative effects of climate change, should there be regulations so all burials become more green?
  

3. Making Room for Spirits Among the Living 

Several cultures have traditions that “keep ancestors and dead loved ones close.” For example, some Japanese American families have a “butsudan” or small cupboard where photos and names of dead relatives are displayed with offerings, such as a serving of rice.

• What do you think of this practice?
  
• What ancestors and deceased friends or family have had an influence on you?
  
• How do you honor and remember someone close to you who has died?

4. How Death Doulas Ease the Final Transition 

Death doulas offer similar comfort and support as a birth doula but for the dying—think encouragement and back rubs. Their practice is grounded in Indigenous customs and informal community training. There is no formal curriculum or certifying board.

• How open would you be to having a death doula help you or a loved one in the final stage of life?
  
• There is minimal regulation of the death doula profession and currently, no national body oversees certification requirements. Do you think death doulas should be left alone?
  
• If death doulas were regulated by a national organization, how do you think it would change their work?
  

Like what you see?  Discover discussion guides on other tough topics. 

The YES! National Student Writing Competition is an opportunity for middle school through university students to write something meaningful for an audience beyond the classroom and the chance to be published by an award-winning magazine.

Each quarter, students are invited to read and write an essay on a selected YES! Magazine article. There are four award categories: middle school, high school, university, and Powerful Voice (for authors whose essays are especially powerful and passionate). Winning essays in each category, plus Literary Gems (excerpts that catch our eye) are published on the YES! Magazine website and in our online education newsletter, reaching thousands of YES! readers and more than 11,000 teachers. One winning essay per contest is published in our quarterly print magazine.

Registration is now closed.

Click here for the 2019-20 writing contest calendar and general information about the competition.

Read recently featured essays here.

Honoring Your Roots

For the fall contest, students will read the YES! article “Native and European—How Do I Honor All Parts of Myself?” by Kayla DeVault.

Multiracial people are one of the two fastest-growing populations in the U.S., especially for children under 15. Native American author Kayla DeVault’s ancestors include Shawnee, Anishinaabe, Eastern European, Scottish, and Irish. She explains that simply saying “I am this” isn’t enough. To truly honor her heritage, she found that she must understand and participate in it through rituals like preparing traditional foods with grandmas and aunties, and by exploring family history. 

The Writing Prompt:

Students, please respond to the writing prompt below with an essay of 600 or fewer words:

What do you consider your ancestral or ethnic identities? How connected are you to all of these parts? Describe how you honor and participate (or not) in them. Like DeVault, do you find yourself wanting to explore parts of your identity that you feel disconnected from or know little about?*

*Some students who are adopted, fostered, moved between households in divorce or come from other situations may not feel comfortable writing about their ancestral identity. They are welcome to write about their other identities, such as gender, sexual, religious or economic class, instead.

Who is eligible?

You must be a classroom teacher—homeschool cooperatives, resource centers, supervised writing groups, and schools outside the U.S. included—for your students to participate. We cannot accept essays or registrations independently sent by students. Student writers should be in grades 6-8 (middle school), grades 9-12 (high school), or college/university.

Common Core State Standards

This writing competition meets several Common Core State Standards for grades 6-12, including W.9-10.3 and W.9-10.4 for Writing, and RI.9-10.1 and RI.9-10.2 for Reading: Informational Text *
*This standard applies to other grade levels. “9-10” is used as an example.

What are the essay requirements?

• Respond to the article and the writing prompt provided by YES!

• Provide an original essay title

• Reference the article in the essay

• 600 or fewer words

• Must be original, unpublished 

In addition, we are evaluating essays for:

• Grammar

• Organization

• Strong style and personal voice. We encourage writers to include personal examples and insights.

• Originality and clarity of content and ideas

How do I submit essays?

• You must be registered for the competition by Sept. 27.

• E-mail your student essays as word-processed document attachments (please no pdf or scanned documents) or as an open-access Google Doc to writingcompetition@yesmagazine.org no later than Nov. 1. 

• You may submit up to three essays per class. 

• Each essay must have a completed student release form. Student email addresses must be legible and visible. Please send all release forms in one pdf. NOTE: Please submit all student essays by Nov. 1, even if there are missing release forms. You may send completed students releases as soon as you receive them.

• Winners will be announced by the end of December.

What happens if my student’s essay is selected as a winner?

• Students whose essays are selected as winning essays will go through the editing process with YES! staff to get their writing ready for publication. This is a valuable experience that requires extra time.

• Winning essays in each category are published on the YES! Media website and in our online education newsletter, reaching thousands of YES! readers, including over 11,000 teachers.

• One winning essay per contest is chosen by YES! editors to be published in our quarterly print magazine.

• The article’s author also responds to essay winners about their ideas and writing. This letter is published with the winning essays.

Anything else I should know?

• A dozen or so “literary gems”—excerpts that caught our eye—are chosen to highlight the ideas and writing generated from the contest.

• We respond to all student writers with a thoughtful note about their essay.

• Teachers who participate in a fall, winter, or spring contest receive one free year of YES!. One lucky participating teacher is randomly selected each contest to win free YES! swag

Contest Forms:

Student Release Form
Evaluation Rubric

Students will read and respond to the YES! article “Three Things That Matter Most in Youth and Old Age” by Nancy Hill. 

In this article, photographer Nancy Hill asked two groups—children under 7 because they have lived relatively simple lives and adults over 70 because they have decades of experience—to explore what three things mattered most to them.

In addition to finding patterns in the responses, Hill also discovered that we live among amazing people over 70, yet few of us know about their experiences. She realized that we need to reach out and learn from these remarkable seniors so their stories and wisdom don’t quietly disappear.

Download lesson as a pdf

YES! Magazine Article and Writing Prompt

 Read the YES! Magazine article by Nancy Hill, “Three Things That Matter Most in Youth and Old Age.”

Writing Prompt:

What are three things that matter most to you? Now, ask the same question to someone significantly older than you. Find out why this person chose these three things. How did your answers compare? Describe what you learned from the person you interviewed.

Writing Guidelines

The writing guidelines below are intended to be just that—a guide. Please adapt to fit your curriculum.

· Provide an original essay title

· Reference the article

· Limit the essay to no more than 700 words

· Pay attention to grammar and organization

· Be original. provide personal examples and insights

· Demonstrate clarity of content and ideas

· This writing exercise meets several Common Core State Standards for grades 6-12, including W. 9-10.3 and W. 9-10.14 for Writing, and RI. 9-10 and RI. 9-10.2 for Reading: Informational Text.*

*This standard applies to other grade levels. “9-10” is used as an example.

Evaluation Rubric

Sample Essays

The essays below were selected as winners for the spring 2019 YES! National Student Writing Competition. Please use them as sample essays or mentor text. The ideas, structure, and writing style of these essays may provide inspiration for your own students’ writing—and an excellent platform for analysis and discussion.

The Lessons of Mortality by Rory Levya, grade 7. Read Rory’s essay about her roller derby family and the lessons she’s learned from her grandma about living life our own way before it’s gone.

Time Only Moves Forward by Praethong Klomsum, grade 10. Read Praethong’s essay about how music is her magic shop, while her friend’s grandma Sandra takes risks, like skydiving, with a smile. 

The Life-Long War by Emily Greenbaum, university. Read Emily’s essay about how a former major petty officer who once lost his will to live inspired her to identify her own passions.

Wise Words from Winnie the Pooh by Amanda Schwaben, university.  Read Amanda’s essay about how her twin sister’s love for Winnie the Pooh revealed the most important things in life:  love, friendship, and having fun.

Decoding the Butterfly by Antonia Mills, grade 11. Read Antonia’s essay about how butterflies are like older humans—they are not seen for who they are or who they were but by false assumptions.

This Former State Trooper Has His Priorities Straight: Family, Climate Change, and Integrity by Isaac Ziemba, grade 7. Read Isaac’s essay about a former state trooper who lives by a code of integrity and loves his family with all of his heart, just like him.

The Phone Call by Lily Hersch, grade 6. Read Lily’s essay about how her grandpa’s living examples of empathy and kindness have inspired her to be an outspoken advocate for her brother Eli.

Lessons My Nana Taught Me by Jonas Buckner, grade 6 . Read Jonas’ essay to understand how to do a straight-up interview and why health is so important to his grandma.

The Birthday Gift by Charles Sanderson, high school teacher. Read Charles’ essay about the importance of leaning in, listening, and showing up at a student’s horse shows. 

We Want to Hear From You!

How do you see this lesson fitting in your curriculum? Already tried it? Tell us—and other teachers—how the lesson worked for you and your students.

Please leave your comments below, including what grade you teach.

Voice of Witness (VOW) advances human rights by “amplifying unheard voices.” The nonprofit organization publishes oral history and personal narratives of real people who have experienced injustice to help students understand current human rights crises.

Its Sharing History Initiative introduces oral history and social justice storytelling to under-resourced classrooms and communities around the United States by providing educators, storytellers, and advocates with free books and culturally relevant curricula. Each year, VOW also publishes a new book with free lesson plans in its oral history book series that focuses on human rights issues and movements. The complete oral history collection, plus a host of more books, lesson plans, and projects, is available on the Voice of Witness website.

For the 2019-20 school year, Voice of Witness’ Sharing History Initiative is offering free sets of Solito, Solita: Crossing Borders with Youth Refugees from Central America, a culturally relevant book that addresses the safety and rights of immigrant communities in the U.S. Each set also includes a copy of Say It Forward: A Guide to Social Justice Storytelling. Apply by June 30.

Cliff Mayotte is the education program director for Voice of Witness. Cliff has taught at numerous Bay Area high schools and arts organizations over the past 30 years, including serving as a former education director for the Tony-award winning Berkeley Repertory Theatre. He is the editor of The Power of the Story: The Voice of Witness Teacher’s Guide to Oral History, and co-writer and editor of Say It Forward: A Guide to Social Justice Storytelling. Cliff is an avid cyclist and loves spending time with his family and working in the garden.

 Cliff spoke with YES! about Voice of Witness. His answers have been condensed and lightly edited.

What inspired the Sharing History Initiative, and why is it important to you? What makes this initiative unique?

VOW started the Sharing History Initiative in 2015 to provide free books and educator resources to underserved public schools and community nonprofits. We were committed to reaching teachers and students in non-traditional learning spaces, such as detention facilities, adult education programs, and nonprofit advocacy organizations that are part of our “narrator communities” —communities whose stories are represented in our book series. Our oral history resources urge students to “take history personally,” to investigate the world through the personal experiences of other people and reflect on their own backgrounds and experiences. Students have told us, “I really feel like someone is speaking directly to me,” and, “I can relate to these issues now in a more human, relatable way.”

This year’s Sharing History selection is our latest book, Solito, Solita: Crossing Borders with Youth Refugees from Central America, which aims to counter damaging rhetoric and “othering” of immigrants.  We’re also including a copy of our recent oral history methodology, Say It Forward: A Guide to Social Justice Storytelling, to accompany Solito, Solita. It offers great tools to turn up the volume on unheard student voices.

What do you want students to take away from these lessons and stories? What do you want them to know and do, and are there any ways to assess this?

The way history is taught in so many schools creates a disconnect between the content and students’ own lives. Questions such as, “What does this have to do with me?,” need to be transformed into, “What choices would I have made?,” and, “What is my relationship to these issues?” We want our books and curricula to encourage students to think critically about history and to place themselves within an ongoing historical narrative. We also want students to be able to say, “I am a part of this story.” This is especially true for students that have been marginalized, including English language learners.

Whether or not the students reading our books have direct experiences with the issues at hand, we hope that our books can “meaningfully complicate” the way students think about social justice issues. After reading Solito, Solita, we heard many high school students say, “I thought I was pretty clear about immigration issues, and now I’m not sure what to think. This issue is way more complex than I thought.”

Students develop their speaking and listening skills through oral history.  We’d like to see their creative literacy cultivated, too, as they shape their projects into photo essays, podcasts, live performances and more. These projects can be assessed using project-based methods, which tend to be more flexible than standard assessment models and leave room for student self-assessment and reflection. Finally, we encourage teachers to evaluate classroom culture before and after our lessons. Evaluating empathy is not straightforward, but you can ask, “Have I noticed changes in how my students show mutual respect and how they speak to each other?” You can also request that ask students to report back on how their empathy now extends beyond the classroom.

What advice do you have for teachers who want to use this collection?

I encourage teachers to nurture trust in their classrooms before engaging with Solito, Solita. This will help students (and teachers) feel more comfortable relating to personal narrative—both from the book and from the stories of their classmates and families. The Solito, Solita curriculum includes resources for building a safe and brave classroom community.

What additional resources do you recommend?

The Faraway Brothers: Two Young Migrants and the Making of an American Life by Lauren Markham, is a deeply reported, accessible and moving chronicle of contemporary migration.

Home is a Human Right: A Series on Immigration, a recent documentary series by Brave New Films.

“Whose Culture has Capital? A Critical Race Theory Discussion of Community Cultural Wealth,” an academic article by Tarro Yasso from Race, Ethnicity, and Education, a biannual peer-reviewed academic journal covering ethnic studies.  

What’s your story?

My story—and teaching— is rooted in narrative storytelling. I’ve been an avid reader since childhood, and I would spend hours looking at maps and creating adventure stories. In high school, I channeled my storytelling energy into acting. From there, I drifted into directing because, as a director, I felt I could better utilize my passion for music, photography, and visual composition. I wanted to surround myself with as many forms of storytelling as I could!

My introduction to oral history was through Stud Terkel’s Hard Times: An Oral History of the Great Depression. I was doing research for a play that was an adaptation of Terkel’s book. The stories in the book blew my mind, and I decided to put the text onstage instead of the play adaptation. That was the oral history portal for me, which led to more teaching and creating that combines art and social justice. Eventually, this path led me to Voice of Witness and, nine years later, the work here continues to inspire me.

Interested in more inspiring content from educators? Check out our other interviews:

Rethinking Schools’ Bill Bigelow and educator Tim Swinehart on the nation’s first comprehensive climate justice literacy policy

Cleary Vaughan-Lee of Global Oneness Project, which uses film and photo essays as its lens on humanity

Riki Ott of Ultimate Civics on how to take action to reclaim democracy.

For the spring 2019 student writing contest, we invited students to read the YES! article “Three Things That Matter Most in Youth and Old Age” by Nancy Hill. Like the author, students interviewed someone significantly older than them about the three things that matter most in life. Students then wrote about what they learned, and about how their interviewees’ answers compare to their own top priorities.

The Winners

From the hundreds of essays written, these eight were chosen as winners. Be sure to read the author’s response to the essay winners and the literary gems that caught our eye. Plus, we share an essay from teacher Charles Sanderson, who also responded to the writing prompt.

Middle School Winner: Rory Leyva

High School Winner: Praethong Klomsum

University Winner: Emily Greenbaum

Powerful Voice Winner: Amanda Schwaben

Powerful Voice Winner: Antonia Mills

Powerful Voice Winner:  Isaac Ziemba

Powerful Voice Winner: Lily Hersch

“Tell It Like It Is” Interview Winner: Jonas Buckner

From the Author: Response to Student Winners

Literary Gems

From A Teacher: Charles Sanderson

From the Author: Response to Charles Sanderson

Middle School Winner

Rory Leyva

Village Home Education Resource Center, Portland, Ore.

The Lessons Of Mortality 

“As I’ve aged, things that are more personal to me have become somewhat less important. Perhaps I’ve become less self-centered with the awareness of mortality, how short one person’s life is.” This is how my 72-year-old grandma believes her values have changed over the course of her life. Even though I am only 12 years old, I know my life won’t last forever, and someday I, too, will reflect on my past decisions. We were all born to exist and eventually die, so we have evolved to value things in the context of mortality.

One of the ways I feel most alive is when I play roller derby. I started playing for the Rose City Rollers Juniors two years ago, and this year, I made the Rosebud All-Stars travel team. Roller derby is a fast-paced, full-contact sport. The physicality and intense training make me feel in control of and present in my body.

My roller derby team is like a second family to me. Adolescence is complicated. We understand each other in ways no one else can. I love my friends more than I love almost anything else. My family would have been higher on my list a few years ago, but as I’ve aged it has been important to make my own social connections.

Music led me to roller derby.  I started out jam skating at the roller rink. Jam skating is all about feeling the music. It integrates gymnastics, breakdancing, figure skating, and modern dance with R & B and hip hop music. When I was younger, I once lay down in the DJ booth at the roller rink and was lulled to sleep by the drawl of wheels rolling in rhythm and people talking about the things they came there to escape. Sometimes, I go up on the roof of my house at night to listen to music and feel the wind rustle my hair. These unique sensations make me feel safe like nothing else ever has.

My grandma tells me, “Being close with family and friends is the most important thing because I haven’t

always had that.” When my grandma was two years old, her father died. Her mother became depressed and moved around a lot, which made it hard for my grandma to make friends. Once my grandma went to college, she made lots of friends. She met my grandfather, Joaquin Leyva when she was working as a park ranger and he was a surfer. They bought two acres of land on the edge of a redwood forest and had a son and a daughter. My grandma created a stable family that was missing throughout her early life.

My grandma is motivated to maintain good health so she can be there for her family. I can relate because I have to be fit and strong for my team. Since she lost my grandfather to cancer, she realizes how lucky she is to have a functional body and no life-threatening illnesses. My grandma tries to eat well and exercise, but she still struggles with depression. Over time, she has learned that reaching out to others is essential to her emotional wellbeing.  

Caring for the earth is also a priority for my grandma I’ve been lucky to learn from my grandma. She’s taught me how to hunt for fossils in the desert and find shells on the beach. Although my grandma grew up with no access to the wilderness, she admired the green open areas of urban cemeteries. In college, she studied geology and hiked in the High Sierras. For years, she’s been an advocate for conserving wildlife habitat and open spaces.

Our priorities may seem different, but it all comes down to basic human needs. We all desire a purpose, strive to be happy, and need to be loved. Like Nancy Hill says in the YES! Magazine article “Three Things That Matter Most in Youth and Old Age,” it can be hard to decipher what is important in life. I believe that the constant search for satisfaction and meaning is the only thing everyone has in common. We all want to know what matters, and we walk around this confusing world trying to find it. The lessons I’ve learned from my grandma about forging connections, caring for my body, and getting out in the world inspire me to live my life my way before it’s gone.

Rory Leyva is a seventh-grader from Portland, Oregon. Rory skates for the Rosebuds All-Stars roller derby team. She loves listening to music and hanging out with her friends.

High School Winner

Praethong Klomsum

 Santa Monica High School, Santa Monica, Calif.

Time Only Moves Forward

Sandra Hernandez gazed at the tiny house while her mother’s gentle hands caressed her shoulders. It wasn’t much, especially for a family of five. This was 1960, she was 17, and her family had just moved to Culver City.

Flash forward to 2019. Sandra sits in a rocking chair, knitting a blanket for her latest grandchild, in the same living room. Sandra remembers working hard to feed her eight children. She took many different jobs before settling behind the cash register at a Japanese restaurant called Magos. “It was a struggle, and my husband Augustine, was planning to join the military at that time, too.”

In the YES! Magazine article “Three Things That Matter Most in Youth and Old Age,” author Nancy Hill states that one of the most important things is “…connecting with others in general, but in particular with those who have lived long lives.” Sandra feels similarly. It’s been hard for Sandra to keep in contact with her family, which leaves her downhearted some days. “It’s important to maintain that connection you have with your family, not just next-door neighbors you talk to once a month.”

Despite her age, Sandra is a daring woman. Taking risks is important to her, and she’ll try anything—from skydiving to hiking. Sandra has some regrets from the past, but nowadays, she doesn’t wonder about the “would have, could have, should haves.” She just goes for it with a smile.

Sandra thought harder about her last important thing, the blue and green blanket now finished and covering

her lap. “I’ve definitely lived a longer life than most, and maybe this is just wishful thinking, but I hope I can see the day my great-grandchildren are born.” She’s laughing, but her eyes look beyond what’s in front of her. Maybe she is reminiscing about the day she held her son for the first time or thinking of her grandchildren becoming parents. I thank her for her time and she waves it off, offering me a styrofoam cup of lemonade before I head for the bus station.

The bus is sparsely filled. A voice in my head reminds me to finish my 10-page history research paper before spring break. I take a window seat and pull out my phone and earbuds. My playlist is already on shuffle, and I push away thoughts of that dreaded paper. Music has been a constant in my life—from singing my lungs out in kindergarten to Barbie’s “I Need To Know,” to jamming out to Taylor Swift’s “Blank Space” in sixth grade, to BTS’s “Intro: Never Mind” comforting me when I’m at my lowest. Music is my magic shop, a place where I can trade away my fears for calm.

I’ve always been afraid of doing something wrong—not finishing my homework or getting a C when I can do better. When I was 8, I wanted to be like the big kids. As I got older, I realized that I had exchanged my childhood longing for the 48 pack of crayons for bigger problems, balancing grades, a social life, and mental stability—all at once. I’m going to get older whether I like it or not, so there’s no point forcing myself to grow up faster.  I’m learning to live in the moment.

The bus is approaching my apartment, where I know my comfy bed and a home-cooked meal from my mom are waiting. My mom is hard-working, confident, and very stubborn. I admire her strength of character. She always keeps me in line, even through my rebellious phases.

My best friend sends me a text—an update on how broken her laptop is. She is annoying. She says the stupidest things and loves to state the obvious. Despite this, she never fails to make me laugh until my cheeks feel numb. The rest of my friends are like that too—loud, talkative, and always brightening my day. Even friends I stopped talking to have a place in my heart. Recently, I’ve tried to reconnect with some of them. This interview was possible because a close friend from sixth grade offered to introduce me to Sandra, her grandmother.  

I’m decades younger than Sandra, so my view of what’s important isn’t as broad as hers, but we share similar values, with friends and family at the top. I have a feeling that when Sandra was my age, she used to love music, too. Maybe in a few decades, when I’m sitting in my rocking chair, drawing in my sketchbook, I’ll remember this article and think back fondly to the days when life was simple.

Praethong Klomsum is a tenth-grader at Santa Monica High School in Santa Monica, California. Praethong has a strange affinity for rhyme games and is involved in her school’s dance team. She enjoys drawing and writing, hoping to impact people willing to listen to her thoughts and ideas.

University Winner

Emily Greenbaum

Kent State University, Kent, Ohio 

The Life-Long War

Every morning we open our eyes, ready for a new day. Some immediately turn to their phones and social media. Others work out or do yoga. For a certain person, a deep breath and the morning sun ground him. He hears the clink-clank of his wife cooking low sodium meat for breakfast—doctor’s orders! He sees that the other side of the bed is already made, the dogs are no longer in the room, and his clothes are set out nicely on the loveseat.

Today, though, this man wakes up to something different: faded cream walls and jello. This person, my hero, is Master Chief Petty Officer Roger James.

I pulled up my chair close to Roger’s vinyl recliner so I could hear him above the noise of the beeping dialysis machine. I noticed Roger would occasionally glance at his wife Susan with sparkly eyes when he would recall memories of the war or their grandkids. He looked at Susan like she walked on water.

Roger James served his country for thirty years. Now, he has enlisted in another type of war. He suffers from a rare blood cancer—the result of the wars he fought in. Roger has good and bad days. He says, “The good outweighs the bad, so I have to be grateful for what I have on those good days.”

When Roger retired, he never thought the effects of the war would reach him. The once shallow wrinkles upon his face become deeper, as he tells me, “It’s just cancer. Others are suffering from far worse. I know I’ll make it.”

Like Nancy Hill did in her article “Three Things that Matter Most in Youth and Old Age,” I asked Roger, “What are the three most important things to you?” James answered, “My wife Susan, my grandkids, and church.”

Roger and Susan served together in the Vietnam war. She was a nurse who treated his cuts and scrapes one day. I asked Roger why he chose Susan. He said, “Susan told me to look at her while she cleaned me up. ‘This may sting, but don’t be a baby.’ When I looked into her eyes, I felt like she was looking into my soul, and I didn’t want her to leave. She gave me this sense of home. Every day I wake up, she makes me feel the same way, and I fall in love with her all over again.”

Roger and Susan have two kids and four grandkids, with great-grandchildren on the way. He claims that his grandkids give him the youth that he feels slowly escaping from his body. This adoring grandfather is energized by coaching t-ball and playing evening card games with the grandkids.

The last thing on his list was church. His oldest daughter married a pastor. Together they founded a church. Roger said that the connection between his faith and family is important to him because it gave him a reason to want to live again. I learned from Roger that when you’re across the ocean, you tend to lose sight of why you are fighting. When Roger returned, he didn’t have the will to live. Most days were a struggle, adapting back into a society that lacked empathy for the injuries, pain, and psychological trauma carried by returning soldiers. Church changed that for Roger and gave him a sense of purpose.

When I began this project, my attitude was to just get the assignment done. I never thought I could view Master Chief Petty Officer Roger James as more than a role model, but he definitely changed my mind. It’s as if Roger magically lit a fire inside of me and showed me where one’s true passions should lie. I see our similarities and embrace our differences. We both value family and our own connections to home—his home being church and mine being where I can breathe the easiest.

Master Chief Petty Officer Roger James has shown me how to appreciate what I have around me and that every once in a while, I should step back and stop to smell the roses. As we concluded the interview, amidst squeaky clogs and the stale smell of bleach and bedpans, I looked to Roger, his kind, tired eyes, and weathered skin, with a deeper sense of admiration, knowing that his values still run true, no matter what he faces.

Emily Greenbaum is a senior at Kent State University, graduating with a major in Conflict Management and minor in Geography. Emily hopes to use her major to facilitate better conversations, while she works in the Washington, D.C. area. 

Powerful Voice Winner

Amanda Schwaben

Kent State University, Kent, Ohio 

Wise Words From Winnie the Pooh

As I read through Nancy Hill’s article “Three Things That Matter Most in Youth and Old Age,” I was comforted by the similar responses given by both children and older adults. The emphasis participants placed on family, social connections, and love was not only heartwarming but hopeful. While the messages in the article filled me with warmth, I felt a twinge of guilt building within me. As a twenty-one-year-old college student weeks from graduation, I honestly don’t think much about the most important things in life. But if I was asked, I would most likely say family, friendship, and love. As much as I hate to admit it, I often find myself obsessing over achieving a successful career and finding a way to “save the world.”

A few weeks ago, I was at my family home watching the new Winnie the Pooh movie Christopher Robin with my mom and younger sister. Well, I wasn’t really watching. I had my laptop in front of me, and I was aggressively typing up an assignment. Halfway through the movie, I realized I left my laptop charger in my car. I walked outside into the brisk March air. Instinctively, I looked up. The sky was perfectly clear, revealing a beautiful array of stars. When my twin sister and I were in high school, we would always take a moment to look up at the sparkling night sky before we came into the house after soccer practice.

I think that was the last time I stood in my driveway and gazed at the stars. I did not get the laptop charger from

my car; instead, I turned around and went back inside. I shut my laptop and watched the rest of the movie. My twin sister loves Winnie the Pooh. So much so that my parents got her a stuffed animal version of him for Christmas. While I thought he was adorable and a token of my childhood, I did not really understand her obsession. However, it was clear to me after watching the movie. Winnie the Pooh certainly had it figured out. He believed that the simple things in life were the most important: love, friendship, and having fun.

I thought about asking my mom right then what the three most important things were to her, but I decided not to. I just wanted to be in the moment. I didn’t want to be doing homework. It was a beautiful thing to just sit there and be present with my mom and sister.

I did ask her, though, a couple of weeks later. Her response was simple.  All she said was family, health, and happiness. When she told me this, I imagined Winnie the Pooh smiling. I think he would be proud of that answer.

I was not surprised by my mom’s reply. It suited her perfectly. I wonder if we relearn what is most important when we grow older—that the pressure to be successful subsides. Could it be that valuing family, health, and happiness is what ends up saving the world?

Amanda Schwaben is a graduating senior from Kent State University with a major in Applied Conflict Management. Amanda also has minors in Psychology and Interpersonal Communication. She hopes to further her education and focus on how museums not only preserve history but also promote peace.

Powerful Voice Winner

Antonia Mills

Rachel Carson High School, Brooklyn, N.Y. 

Decoding The Butterfly

For a caterpillar to become a butterfly, it must first digest itself. The caterpillar, overwhelmed by accumulating tissue, splits its skin open to form its protective shell, the chrysalis, and later becomes the pretty butterfly we all know and love. There are approximately 20,000 species of butterflies, and just as every species is different, so is the life of every butterfly. No matter how long and hard a caterpillar has strived to become the colorful and vibrant butterfly that we marvel at on a warm spring day, it does not live a long life. A butterfly can live for a year, six months, two weeks, and even as little as twenty-four hours.

I have often wondered if butterflies live long enough to be blissful of blue skies. Do they take time to feast upon the sweet nectar they crave, midst their hustling life of pollinating pretty flowers? Do they ever take a lull in their itineraries, or are they always rushing towards completing their four-stage metamorphosis? Has anyone asked the butterfly, “Who are you?” instead of “What are you”? Or, How did you get here, on my windowsill?  How did you become ‘you’?

Humans are similar to butterflies. As a caterpillar

becomes a butterfly, a baby becomes an elder. As a butterfly soars through summer skies, an elder watches summer skies turn into cold winter nights and back toward summer skies yet again.  And as a butterfly flits slowly by the porch light, a passerby makes assumptions about the wrinkled, slow-moving elder, who is sturdier than he appears. These creatures are not seen for who they are—who they were—because people have “better things to do” or they are too busy to ask, “How are you”?

Our world can be a lonely place. Pressured by expectations, haunted by dreams, overpowered by weakness, and drowned out by lofty goals, we tend to forget ourselves—and others. Rather than hang onto the strands of our diminishing sanity, we might benefit from listening to our elders. Many elders have experienced setbacks in their young lives. Overcoming hardship and surviving to old age is wisdom that they carry.  We can learn from them—and can even make their day by taking the time to hear their stories.  

Nancy Hill, who wrote the YES! Magazine article “Three Things That Matter Most in Youth and Old Age,” was right: “We live among such remarkable people, yet few know their stories.” I know a lot about my grandmother’s life, and it isn’t as serene as my own. My grandmother, Liza, who cooks every day, bakes bread on holidays for our neighbors, brings gifts to her doctor out of the kindness of her heart, and makes conversation with neighbors even though she is isn’t fluent in English—Russian is her first language—has struggled all her life. Her mother, Anna, a single parent, had tuberculosis, and even though she had an inviolable spirit, she was too frail to care for four children. She passed away when my grandmother was sixteen, so my grandmother and her siblings spent most of their childhood in an orphanage. My grandmother got married at nineteen to my grandfather, Pinhas. He was a man who loved her more than he loved himself and was a godsend to every person he met. Liza was—and still is—always quick to do what was best for others, even if that person treated her poorly. My grandmother has lived with physical pain all her life, yet she pushed herself to climb heights that she wasn’t ready for. Against all odds, she has lived to tell her story to people who are willing to listen. And I always am.

I asked my grandmother, “What are three things most important to you?” Her answer was one that I already expected: One, for everyone to live long healthy lives. Two, for you to graduate from college. Three, for you to always remember that I love you.

What may be basic to you means the world to my grandmother. She just wants what she never had the chance to experience: a healthy life, an education, and the chance to express love to the people she values. The three things that matter most to her may be so simple and ordinary to outsiders, but to her, it is so much more. And who could take that away?

Antonia Mills was born and raised in Brooklyn, New York and attends Rachel Carson High School.  Antonia enjoys creative activities, including writing, painting, reading, and baking. She hopes to pursue culinary arts professionally in the future. One of her favorite quotes is, “When you start seeing your worth, you’ll find it harder to stay around people who don’t.” -Emily S.P. 

 Powerful Voice Winner

  Isaac Ziemba

Odyssey Multiage Program, Bainbridge Island, Wash. 

This Former State Trooper Has His Priorities Straight: Family, Climate Change, and Integrity

I have a personal connection to people who served in the military and first responders. My uncle is a first responder on the island I live on, and my dad retired from the Navy. That was what made a man named Glen Tyrell, a state trooper for 25 years, 2 months and 9 days, my first choice to interview about what three things matter in life. In the YES! Magazine article “The Three Things That Matter Most in Youth and Old Age,” I learned that old and young people have a great deal in common. I know that’s true because Glen and I care about a lot of the same things.

For Glen, family is at the top of his list of important things. “My wife was, and is, always there for me. My daughters mean the world to me, too, but Penny is my partner,” Glen said. I can understand why Glen’s wife is so important to him. She’s family. Family will always be there for you.

Glen loves his family, and so do I with all my heart. My dad especially means the world to me. He is my top supporter and tells me that if I need help, just “say the word.” When we are fishing or crabbing, sometimes I

think, what if these times were erased from my memory? I wouldn’t be able to describe the horrible feeling that would rush through my mind, and I’m sure that Glen would feel the same about his wife.

My uncle once told me that the world is always going to change over time. It’s what the world has turned out to be that worries me. Both Glen and I are extremely concerned about climate change and the effect that rising temperatures have on animals and their habitats. We’re driving them to extinction. Some people might say, “So what? Animals don’t pay taxes or do any of the things we do.” What we are doing to them is like the Black Death times 100.

Glen is also frustrated by how much plastic we use and where it ends up. He would be shocked that an explorer recently dived to the deepest part of the Pacific Ocean—seven miles!— and discovered a plastic bag and candy wrappers. Glen told me that, unfortunately, his generation did the damage and my generation is here to fix it. We need to take better care of Earth because if we don’t, we, as a species, will have failed.

Both Glen and I care deeply for our families and the earth, but for our third important value, I chose education and Glen chose integrity. My education is super important to me because without it, I would be a blank slate. I wouldn’t know how to figure out problems. I wouldn’t be able to tell right from wrong. I wouldn’t understand the Bill of Rights. I would be stuck. Everyone should be able to go to school, no matter where they’re from or who they are.  It makes me angry and sad to think that some people, especially girls, get shot because they are trying to go to school. I understand how lucky I am.

Integrity is sacred to Glen—I could tell by the serious tone of Glen’s voice when he told me that integrity was the code he lived by as a former state trooper. He knew that he had the power to change a person’s life, and he was committed to not abusing that power.  When Glen put someone under arrest—and my uncle says the same—his judgment and integrity were paramount. “Either you’re right or you’re wrong.” You can’t judge a person by what you think, you can only judge a person from what you know.”

I learned many things about Glen and what’s important in life, but there is one thing that stands out—something Glen always does and does well. Glen helps people. He did it as a state trooper, and he does it in our school, where he works on construction projects. Glen told me that he believes that our most powerful tools are writing and listening to others. I think those tools are important, too, but I also believe there are other tools to help solve many of our problems and create a better future: to be compassionate, to create caring relationships, and to help others. Just like Glen Tyrell does each and every day.

Isaac Ziemba is in seventh grade at the Odyssey Multiage Program on a small island called Bainbridge near Seattle, Washington. Isaac’s favorite subject in school is history because he has always been interested in how the past affects the future. In his spare time, you can find Isaac hunting for crab with his Dad, looking for artifacts around his house with his metal detector, and having fun with his younger cousin, Conner.     

Powerful Voice Winner

Lily Hersch

 The Crest Academy, Salida, Colo.

The Phone Call

Dear Grandpa,

In my short span of life—12 years so far—you’ve taught me a lot of important life lessons that I’ll always have with me. Some of the values I talk about in this writing I’ve learned from you.

Dedicated to my Gramps.

In the YES! Magazine article “Three Things That Matter Most in Youth and Old Age,” author and photographer Nancy Hill asked people to name the three things that mattered most to them. After reading the essay prompt for the article, I immediately knew who I wanted to interview: my grandpa Gil.      

My grandpa was born on January 25, 1942. He lived in a minuscule tenement in The Bronx with his mother,

father, and brother. His father wasn’t around much, and, when he was, he was reticent and would snap occasionally, revealing his constrained mental pain. My grandpa says this happened because my great grandfather did not have a father figure in his life. His mother was a classy, sharp lady who was the head secretary at a local police district station. My grandpa and his brother Larry did not care for each other. Gramps said he was very close to his mother, and Larry wasn’t. Perhaps Larry was envious for what he didn’t have.

Decades after little to no communication with his brother, my grandpa decided to spontaneously visit him in Florida, where he resided with his wife. Larry was taken aback at the sudden reappearance of his brother and told him to leave. Since then, the two brothers have not been in contact. My grandpa doesn’t even know if Larry is alive.         

My grandpa is now a retired lawyer, married to my wonderful grandma, and living in a pretty house with an ugly dog named BoBo.

So, what’s important to you, Gramps?

He paused a second, then replied, “Family, kindness, and empathy.”

Why so?

“Family, because it’s my family. It’s important to stay connected with your family. My brother, father, and I never connected in the way I wished, and sometimes I contemplated what could’ve happened.  But you can’t change the past. So, that’s why family’s important to me.”

Family will always be on my “Top Three Most Important Things” list, too. I can’t imagine not having my older brother, Zeke, or my grandma in my life. I wonder how other kids feel about their families? How do kids trapped and separated from their families at the U.S.-Mexico border feel?  What about orphans? Too many questions, too few answers.

“Kindness, because growing up and not seeing a lot of kindness made me realize how important it is to have that in the world. Kindness makes the world go round.”

What is kindness? Helping my brother, Eli, who has Down syndrome, get ready in the morning? Telling people what they need to hear, rather than what they want to hear? Maybe, for now, I’ll put wisdom, not kindness, on my list.

“Empathy, because of all the killings and shootings [in this country.] We also need to care for people—people who are not living in as good circumstances as I have. Donald Trump and other people I’ve met have no empathy. Empathy is very important.”

Empathy is something I’ve felt my whole life. It’ll always be important to me like it is important to my grandpa. My grandpa shows his empathy when he works with disabled children. Once he took a disabled child to a Christina Aguilera concert because that child was too young to go by himself. The moments I feel the most empathy are when Eli gets those looks from people. Seeing Eli wonder why people stare at him like he’s a freak makes me sad, and annoyed that they have the audacity to stare.

After this 2 minute and 36-second phone call, my grandpa has helped me define what’s most important to me at this time in my life: family, wisdom, and empathy. Although these things are important now, I realize they can change and most likely will.

When I’m an old woman, I envision myself scrambling through a stack of storage boxes and finding this paper. Perhaps after reading words from my 12-year-old self, I’ll ask myself “What’s important to me?”

Lily Hersch is a sixth-grader at Crest Academy in Salida, Colorado. Lily is an avid indoorsman, finding joy in competitive spelling, art, and of course, writing. She does not like Swiss cheese.

 “Tell It Like It Is” Interview Winner

Jonas Buckner

KIPP: Gaston College Preparatory, Gaston, N.C.

Lessons My Nana Taught Me

I walked into the house. In the other room, I heard my cousin screaming at his game. There were a lot of Pioneer Woman dishes everywhere. The room had the television on max volume. The fan in the other room was on. I didn’t know it yet, but I was about to learn something powerful.

I was in my Nana’s house, and when I walked in, she said, “Hey Monkey Butt.”

I said, “Hey Nana.”

Before the interview, I was talking to her about what I was gonna interview her on. Also, I had asked her why I might have wanted to interview her, and she responded with, “Because you love me, and I love you too.”

Now, it was time to start the interview. The first

question I asked was the main and most important question ever: “What three things matter most to you and you only?”

She thought of it very thoughtfully and responded with, “My grandchildren, my children, and my health.”

Then, I said, “OK, can you please tell me more about your health?”

She responded with, “My health is bad right now. I have heart problems, blood sugar, and that’s about it.” When she said it, she looked at me and smiled because she loved me and was happy I chose her to interview.

I replied with, “K um, why is it important to you?”

She smiled and said, “Why is it…Why is my health important? Well, because I want to live a long time and see my grandchildren grow up.”

I was scared when she said that, but she still smiled. I was so happy, and then I said, “Has your health always been important to you.”

She responded with “Nah.”

Then, I asked, “Do you happen to have a story to help me understand your reasoning?”

She said, “No, not really.”

Now we were getting into the next set of questions. I said, “Remember how you said that your grandchildren matter to you? Can you please tell me why they matter to you?”

Then, she responded with, “So I can spend time with them, play with them, and everything.”

Next, I asked the same question I did before: “Have you always loved your grandchildren?” 

She responded with, “Yes, they have always been important to me.”

Then, the next two questions I asked she had no response to at all. She was very happy until I asked, “Why do your children matter most to you?”

She had a frown on and responded, “My daughter Tammy died a long time ago.”

Then, at this point, the other questions were answered the same as the other ones. When I left to go home I was thinking about how her answers were similar to mine. She said health, and I care about my health a lot, and I didn’t say, but I wanted to. She also didn’t have answers for the last two questions on each thing, and I was like that too.

The lesson I learned was that no matter what, always keep pushing because even though my aunt or my Nana’s daughter died, she kept on pushing and loving everyone. I also learned that everything should matter to us. Once again, I chose to interview my Nana because she matters to me, and I know when she was younger she had a lot of things happen to her, so I wanted to know what she would say. The point I’m trying to make is that be grateful for what you have and what you have done in life.

Jonas Buckner is a sixth-grader at KIPP: Gaston College Preparatory in Gaston, North Carolina. Jonas’ favorite activities are drawing, writing, math, piano, and playing AltSpace VR. He found his passion for writing in fourth grade when he wrote a quick autobiography. Jonas hopes to become a horror writer someday.

From The Author: Responses to Student Winners

Dear Emily, Isaac, Antonia, Rory, Praethong, Amanda, Lily, and Jonas,

Your thought-provoking essays sent my head spinning. The more I read, the more impressed I was with the depth of thought, beauty of expression, and originality. It left me wondering just how to capture all of my reactions in a single letter. After multiple false starts, I’ve landed on this: I will stick to the theme of three most important things.

The three things I found most inspirational about your essays:

You asked.

You listened.

You connected.

We live in troubled times. Tensions mount between countries, cultures, genders, religious beliefs, and generations. If we fail to find a way to understand each other, to see similarities between us, the future will be fraught with increased hostility.

You all took critical steps toward connecting with someone who might not value the same things you do by asking a person who is generations older than you what matters to them. Then, you listened to their answers. You saw connections between what is important to them and what is important to you. Many of you noted similarities, others wondered if your own list of the three most important things would change as you go through life. You all saw the validity of the responses you received and looked for reasons why your interviewees have come to value what they have.

It is through these things—asking, listening, and connecting—that we can begin to bridge the differences in experiences and beliefs that are currently dividing us.

Individual observations

Each one of you made observations that all of us, regardless of age or experience, would do well to keep in mind. I chose one quote from each person and trust those reading your essays will discover more valuable insights.

Rory:

“Our priorities may seem different, but they come back to basic human needs. We all desire a purpose, strive to be happy, and work to make a positive impact.” 

Isaac:

“You can’t judge a person by what you think, you can only judge a person by what you know.”

Emily (referencing your interviewee, who is battling cancer):

“Master Chief Petty Officer James has shown me how to appreciate what I have around me.”

Lily (quoting your grandfather):

“Kindness makes the world go round.”

Jonas:

“Everything should matter to us.”

Praethong (quoting your interviewee, Sandra, on the importance of family):

“It’s important to always maintain that connection you have with each other, your family, not just next-door neighbors you talk to once a month.”

Amanda:

“I wonder if maybe we relearn what is most important when we grow older. That the pressure to be successful subsides and that valuing family, health, and happiness is what ends up saving the world.”

Antonia:

“Listen to what others have to say. Listen to the people who have already experienced hardship. You will learn from them and you can even make their day by giving them a chance to voice their thoughts.”

I end this letter to you with the hope that you never stop asking others what is most important to them and that you to continue to take time to reflect on what matters most to you…and why. May you never stop asking, listening, and connecting with others, especially those who may seem to be unlike you. Keep writing, and keep sharing your thoughts and observations with others, for your ideas are awe-inspiring.

I also want to thank the more than 1,000 students who submitted essays. Together, by sharing what’s important to us with others, especially those who may believe or act differently, we can fill the world with joy, peace, beauty, and love.

Sincerely,

Nancy Hill

Literary Gems

We received many outstanding essays for the Winter 2019 Student Writing Competition. Though not every participant can win the contest, we’d like to share some excerpts that caught our eye:

Whether it is a painting on a milky canvas with watercolors or pasting photos onto a scrapbook with her granddaughters, it is always a piece of artwork to her. She values the things in life that keep her in the moment, while still exploring things she may not have initially thought would bring her joy.

—Ondine Grant-Krasno, Immaculate Heart Middle School, Los Angeles, Calif.

“Ganas”… It means “desire” in Spanish. My ganas is fueled by my family’s belief in me. I cannot and will not fail them. 

—Adan Rios, Lane Community College, Eugene, Ore.

I hope when I grow up I can have the love for my kids like my grandma has for her kids. She makes being a mother even more of a beautiful thing than it already is.

—Ashley Shaw, Columbus City Prep School for Girls, Grove City, Ohio

You become a collage of little pieces of your friends and family. They also encourage you to be the best you can be. They lift you up onto the seat of your bike, they give you the first push, and they don’t hesitate to remind you that everything will be alright when you fall off and scrape your knee.

—Cecilia Stanton, Bellafonte Area Middle School, Bellafonte, Pa.

Without good friends, I wouldn’t know what I would do to endure the brutal machine of public education.

—Kenneth Jenkins, Garrison Middle School, Walla Walla, Wash.

My dog, as ridiculous as it may seem, is a beautiful example of what we all should aspire to be. We should live in the moment, not stress, and make it our goal to lift someone’s spirits, even just a little.

—Kate Garland, Immaculate Heart Middle School, Los Angeles, Calif. 

I strongly hope that every child can spare more time to accompany their elderly parents when they are struggling, and moving forward, and give them more care and patience. so as to truly achieve the goal of “you accompany me to grow up, and I will accompany you to grow old.”

—Taiyi Li, Lane Community College, Eugene, Ore.

I have three cats, and they are my brothers and sisters. We share a special bond that I think would not be possible if they were human. Since they do not speak English, we have to find other ways to connect, and I think that those other ways can be more powerful than language.

—Maya Dombroskie, Delta Program Middle School, Boulsburg, Pa.

We are made to love and be loved. To have joy and be relational. As a member of the loneliest generation in possibly all of history, I feel keenly aware of the need for relationships and authentic connection. That is why I decided to talk to my grandmother.

—Luke Steinkamp, Kent State University, Kent, Ohio

After interviewing my grandma and writing my paper, I realized that as we grow older, the things that are important to us don’t change, what changes is why those things are important to us.

—Emily Giffer, Our Lady Star of the Sea, Grosse Pointe Woods, Mich.

The media works to marginalize elders, often isolating them and their stories, and the wealth of knowledge that comes with their additional years of lived experiences. It also undermines the depth of children’s curiosity and capacity to learn and understand. When the worlds of elders and children collide, a classroom opens.

—Cristina Reitano, City College of San Francisco, San Francisco, Calif.

My values, although similar to my dad, only looked the same in the sense that a shadow is similar to the object it was cast on.

—Timofey Lisenskiy, Santa Monica High School, Santa Monica, Calif.

I can release my anger through writing without having to take it out on someone. I can escape and be a different person; it feels good not to be myself for a while. I can make up my own characters, so I can be someone different every day, and I think that’s pretty cool.

—Jasua Carillo, Wellness, Business, and Sports School, Woodburn, Ore. 

Notice how all the important things in his life are people: the people who he loves and who love him back. This is because “people are more important than things like money or possessions, and families are treasures,” says grandpa Pat. And I couldn’t agree more.

—Brody Hartley, Garrison Middle School, Walla Walla, Wash.  

Curiosity for other people’s stories could be what is needed to save the world.

—Noah Smith, Kent State University, Kent, Ohio

Peace to me is a calm lake without a ripple in sight. It’s a starry night with a gentle breeze that pillows upon your face. It’s the absence of arguments, fighting, or war. It’s when egos stop working against each other and finally begin working with each other. Peace is free from fear, anxiety, and depression. To me, peace is an important ingredient in the recipe of life.

—JP Bogan, Lane Community College, Eugene, Ore.

From A Teacher

Charles Sanderson

Wellness, Business and Sports School, Woodburn, Ore. 

The Birthday Gift

I’ve known Jodelle for years, watching her grow from a quiet and timid twelve-year-old to a young woman who just returned from India, where she played Kabaddi, a kind of rugby meets Red Rover.

One of my core beliefs as an educator is to show up for the things that matter to kids, so I go to their games, watch their plays, and eat the strawberry jam they make for the county fair. On this occasion, I met Jodelle at a robotics competition to watch her little sister Abby compete. Think Nerd Paradise: more hats made from traffic cones than Golden State Warrior ball caps, more unicorn capes than Nike swooshes, more fanny packs with Legos than clutches with eyeliner.

We started chatting as the crowd chanted and waved six-foot flags for teams like Mystic Biscuits, Shrek, and everyone’s nemesis The Mean Machine. Apparently, when it’s time for lunch at a robotics competition, they don’t mess around. The once-packed gym was left to Jodelle and me, and we kept talking and talking. I eventually asked her about the three things that matter to her most.

She told me about her mom, her sister, and her addiction—to horses. I’ve read enough of her writing to know that horses were her drug of choice and her mom and sister were her support network.

I learned about her desire to become a teacher and how hours at the barn with her horse, Heart, recharge her when she’s exhausted. At one point, our rambling conversation turned to a topic I’ve known far too well—her father.

Later that evening, I received an email from Jodelle, and she had a lot to say. One line really struck me: “In so many movies, I have seen a dad wanting to protect his daughter from the world, but I’ve only understood the scene cognitively. Yesterday, I felt it.”

Long ago, I decided that I would never be a dad. I had seen movies with fathers and daughters, and for me, those movies might as well have been Star Wars, ET, or Alien—worlds filled with creatures I’d never know. However, over the years, I’ve attended Jodelle’s parent-teacher conferences, gone to her graduation, and driven hours to watch her ride Heart at horse shows. Simply, I showed up. I listened. I supported.

Jodelle shared a series of dad poems, as well. I had read the first two poems in their original form when Jodelle was my student. The revised versions revealed new graphic details of her past. The third poem, however, was something entirely different.

She called the poems my early birthday present. When I read the lines “You are my father figure/Who I look up to/Without being looked down on,” I froze for an instant and had to reread the lines. After fifty years of consciously deciding not to be a dad, I was seen as one—and it felt incredible. Jodelle’s poem and recognition were two of the best presents I’ve ever received.

I  know that I was the language arts teacher that Jodelle needed at the time, but her poem revealed things I never knew I taught her: “My father figure/ Who taught me/ That listening is for observing the world/ That listening is for learning/Not obeying/Writing is for connecting/Healing with others.”

Teaching is often a thankless job, one that frequently brings more stress and anxiety than joy and hope. Stress erodes my patience. Anxiety curtails my ability to enter each interaction with every student with the grace they deserve. However, my time with Jodelle reminds me of the importance of leaning in and listening.

In the article “Three Things That Matter Most in Youth and Old Age” by Nancy Hill, she illuminates how we “live among such remarkable people, yet few know their stories.” For the last twenty years, I’ve had the privilege to work with countless of these “remarkable people,” and I’ve done my best to listen, and, in so doing, I hope my students will realize what I’ve known for a long time; their voices matter and deserve to be heard, but the voices of their tias and abuelitos and babushkas are equally important. When we take the time to listen, I believe we do more than affirm the humanity of others; we affirm our own as well.

Charles Sanderson has grounded his nineteen-year teaching career in a philosophy he describes as “Mirror, Window, Bridge.” Charles seeks to ensure all students see themselves, see others, and begin to learn the skills to build bridges of empathy, affinity, and understanding between communities and cultures that may seem vastly different. He proudly teaches at the Wellness, Business and Sports School in Woodburn, Oregon, a school and community that brings him joy and hope on a daily basis.

From The Author: Response to Charles Sanderson

Dear Charles Sanderson,

Thank you for submitting an essay of your own in addition to encouraging your students to participate in YES! Magazine’s essay contest.

Your essay focused not on what is important to you, but rather on what is important to one of your students. You took what mattered to her to heart, acting upon it by going beyond the school day and creating a connection that has helped fill a huge gap in her life. Your efforts will affect her far beyond her years in school. It is clear that your involvement with this student is far from the only time you have gone beyond the classroom, and while you are not seeking personal acknowledgment, I cannot help but applaud you.

In an ideal world, every teacher, every adult, would show the same interest in our children and adolescents that you do. By taking the time to listen to what is important to our youth, we can help them grow into compassionate, caring adults, capable of making our world a better place.

Your concerted efforts to guide our youth to success not only as students but also as human beings is commendable. May others be inspired by your insights, concerns, and actions. You define excellence in teaching.

Sincerely,

Nancy Hill

Boy or girl. He or she. At birth, we are assigned one of two genders. For many people, this binary is inaccurate and limiting. It simply doesn’t reflect who they are. Today, over 1.4 million people in the U.S. identify as transgender, and they’re pushing to be seen and accepted—but, more urgently, to live healthy and safe lives. 

Discrimination and violence against trans people is instigated and perpetuated every day, not only by lawmakers and law enforcement but also neighbors and classmates. Their rights to choose their bathroom and to access appropriate health care are consistently contested. And, just last month, the Trump administration’s ban on transgender recruits from joining the military went into effect.

Meanwhile, as equal employment rights are contested in federal court, twenty states, the District of Columbia, and 400-plus cities and counties already legally protect LGBTQ employees from discrimination in the workplace. In the face of injustice, transgender people continue to come out, demand their rights, and say, “We are still here.”

In this “Let’s Talk About” edition, we provide resources to help educate your students about what it means to be transgender and to get them talking about both the systemic injustices and the radical acts of resistance and advocacy.

How to Use This Collection

Suggested below are steps to a thoughtful and meaningful discussion with your students about transgender rights and their role in their personal lives and in society. Choose what is appropriate for your class.

1. Have students complete a pre-survey  (optional).
2. Read the background information to set a baseline understanding of what it means to identify as transgender.
3. Choose at least one YES! article and another site’s article for a robust compare-and- contrast activity.
4. Use the discussion questions—or craft your own—to gauge your students’ understanding and opinions.
5. Have students complete a post-survey  (optional).
6. Explore curriculum if you’d like to dive deeper.

Reading Materials

 Background Information (read this first)

9 Questions About Gender Identity and Being Transgender You Were Too Embarrassed to Ask (Vox)

YES! Articles

When You’re a Transgender Refugee in Trump’s America 

Austin Police Try to Get Past Trans Misgendering and “Deadnaming”

This Harry Potter Enthusiast Just Came Out As Trans On YouTube—And Thousands of People Are Watching

How to Fight the Latest Attempts to Erase “Transgender”

Why I Decided to Come Out to My Students as a Trans Man

 Outside Articles

Alison’s Story (Denver Post)

U.S. Supreme Court takes up major gay, transgender job discrimination cases (Reuters)

Conservative group hosts anti-transgender panel of feminists ‘from the left’ (NBC)

First Time I Saw Me (GLAAD)

Discussion Questions

1. Why is it hard for some people, particularly young people, to come out as transgender? How are these barriers to coming out different from (or similar to) those who identify as lesbian, gay, bisexual, or queer? What are some acts of discrimination and, even, dangers that trans people may face at home, in their communities, and in the U.S.?

2. Have you noticed transphobia—discrimination against transgender people ranging from misgendering to overt violence—in your school or community? How might you be an ally to trans and gender nonbinary people and help change transphobic beliefs?

3. On April 23, the U.S. Supreme Court agreed to hear the cases of three LGBTQ individuals who claimed workplace discrimination based on sexual orientation and gender identity. These hearings come on the heels of President Trump’s ban on new transgender military recruits. How do these court decisions and federal policies impact transgender rights now and in the future?  

Curriculum

Supporting Trans and Gender Nonconforming (GNC) Students (GLSEN)

Students will read and respond to the YES! Magazine article “Two-Thirds of Americans Live in the “‘Constitution-Free Zone’” by Lornet Turnbull.

In this story, journalist Lornet Turnbull examines the spate of Greyhound bus raids that have exposed an obscure law that gives U.S. Border Patrol officials the authority to board and search any vehicle without a warrant and ask occupants to prove their legal status in this country. Searches are not limited to the border but also extend to the “Constitution-free zone,” a 100-mile perimeter surrounding our land and sea borders and where two-thirds of the U.S. population lives. Immigrant advocacy groups have warned people of racial profiling and civil rights violations.

Download lesson as a PDF.

YES! Magazine Article and Writing Prompt

Read the YES! Magazine article by Lornet Turnbull, “Two-Thirds of Americans Live in the ‘Constitution-Free Zone’.”

Writing Prompts:

1. Write about a time when someone made an unfair assumption about you. What was the impact on you? How did you respond, and what did you learn from the experience?

2. Describe your position on the “Constitution-free zone.” Do you think that this is an effective and justifiable means to make the country more “secure”? How should we decide who is welcome in the U.S. and who is not?

Writing Guidelines

The writing guidelines below are intended to be just that—a guide. Please adapt to fit your curriculum.

· Provide an original essay title

· Reference the article

· Limit the essay to no more than 700 words

· Pay attention to grammar and organization

· Be original. provide personal examples and insights

· Demonstrate clarity of content and ideas

· This writing exercise meets several Common Core State Standards for grades 6-12, including W. 9-10.3 and W. 9-10.14 for Writing, and RI. 9-10 and RI. 9-10.2 for Reading: Informational Text.*

*This standard applies to other grade levels. “9-10” is used as an example.

Evaluation Rubric

Sample Essays

The essays below were selected as winners for the Winter 2019 YES! National Student Writing Competition. Please use them as sample essays or mentor text. The ideas, structure, and writing style of these essays may provide inspiration for your own students’ writing—and an excellent platform for analysis and discussion.

Broken Promises by Alessandra Serafini, grade 8. Read Alessandra’s essay about the hypocrisy of anti-immigrant policy in a country that once promised to protect those seeking liberty, freedom, and justice for all.

Xenophobia and the Constitution-Free Zone by Cain Trevino, grade 10. Read Cain’s essay about how it’s not just Border Patrol agents boarding of buses that threatens immigrants in his home state of Texas but also a series of anti-immigrant laws that put immigrants’ lives and freedom at risk.

Bus(ted) by Ethan Peter, grade 11. Read Ethan’s essay about how bussing restaurant tables and patrolling buses crossing the U.S. border can shift from straightforward to complex in a flash, and how a better path to U.S. citizenship is more urgent than ever.

Detained on the Road to Equality by Daniel Fries, university. Read Daniel’s essay about how politicians enable racist systems and anti-immigrant sentiments in the U.S. and its “Constitution-free zone.”

An Emotion an Immigrant Knows Too Well by Emma Hernandez-Sanchez, grade 9. Read Emma’s essay about the ways her fears as a young Mexican American woman inform her strong stance against the “Constitution-free zone.”

Hold Your Head High and Keep Those Fists Down by Tiara Lewis, grade 8. Read Tiara’s essay about the importance of being true to herself even when the racist words and actions of others try to drag her down.

Wielding My Swords by Hailee Park, grade 8. Read Hailee’s essay about the way she proudly wears her multiple identities to duel those who attempt to falsely categorize her.

We Are Still Dreaming by Aminata Toure, grade 8. Read Aminata’s essay about her commitment as a young Muslim Guinean American woman to defy stereotypes in the face of Islamophobia.

We Want to Hear From You!

How do you see this lesson fitting in your curriculum? Already tried it? Tell us—and other teachers—how the lesson worked for you and your students.

Please leave your comments below, including what grade you teach.

Are soil and dirt the same thing? 

They’re not—soil is alive and dirt is dead. Plus healthy (and contaminated) soil plays a pivotal role in our lives, while dirt is something you get all over your clothes when you garden or slide into third base.

In this “Let’s Talk About” collection, we reconnect students with the soil. We help them dive deep into the issues of regenerative farming, environmental injustice, and even the history of eating dirt. We also let them explore how communities are fighting back to restore their cultural and historic relationship with the ground.

You and your students can learn more about the restorative powers of soil in YES! Magazine’s Dirt Issue.   

How to Use This Collection

Suggested below are steps to a thoughtful and meaningful discussion with your students about dirt and its role in their personal lives and in society. Choose what is appropriate for your class.

Reading Materials

1. Have students complete a pre-survey  (optional).
2. Choose at least one YES! article and another site’s article for a robust compare and contrast.
3. Use the discussion questions—or craft your own—to gauge your students’ understanding and opinions.
4. Have students complete a post-survey  (optional).
5. Explore curriculum if you’d like to dive deeper.

Background Information (read this first)

7 Fascinating Facts About Soil (Rainforest Alliance)

 YES! Articles

The Climate Solution Right Under Our Feet

How Removing Asphalt is Softening Our Cities

Mushrooms Clean Up Toxic Mess, Including Plastic. So Why Aren’t They Used More?

How Soil Acts as a Living Witness to Racial Violence

By Reconnecting with Soil, We Heal the Planet and Ourselves 

Outside Articles 

Land degradation threatens human wellbeing, major report warns (The Guardian)

Would You Like a Side of Dirt With That? (Scientific American)

Residents say Love Canal chemicals continue to make them sick (PBS)

Discussion Questions

1. Describe the personal and global benefits of healthy soil. On the flip side, how are you—and the world—impacted by toxic or infertile soil?
2. When something is bad, unsavory, or taboo, it is often referred to as “dirty”—dirty words, dirty jobs, dirty people. Why do you think dirt has such a bad reputation? Who and what gets deemed dirty and why? Who gets treated “like dirt”?
3. Twenty-two tons of toxic waste dumped into the working-class Love Canal neighborhood of Niagra Falls, New York. Poisoned city water in low-income, predominantly African American Flint, Michigan. These are examples of environmental injustice. What is environmental injustice, and why are certain communities subjected to higher levels of harm than others? What does environmental justice look like to you?

Curriculum

The Soil Story Curriculum (Kiss the Ground)

For the winter 2019 student writing competition, “Border (In)Security,” we invited students to read the YES! Magazine article “Two-Thirds of Americans Live in the “Constitution-Free Zone” by Lornet Turnbull and respond with an up-to-700-word essay. 

Students had a choice between two writing prompts for this contest on immigration policies at the border and in the “Constitution-free zone,” a 100-mile perimeter from land and sea borders where U.S. Border Patrol can search any vehicle, bus, or vessel without a warrant. They could state their positions on the impact of immigration policies on our country’s security and how we determine who is welcome to live here. Or they could write about a time when someone made an unfair assumption about them, just as Border Patrol agents have made warrantless searches of Greyhound passengers based simply on race and clothing.

The Winners

From the hundreds of essays written, these eight were chosen as winners. Be sure to read the author’s response to the essay winners and the literary gems that caught our eye.

Middle School Winner: Alessandra Serafini

High School Winner: Cain Trevino

High School Winner: Ethan Peter

University Winner: Daniel Fries

Powerful Voice Winner: Emma Hernandez-Sanchez

Powerful Voice Winner: Tiara Lewis

Powerful Voice Winner: Hailee Park

Powerful Voice Winner: Aminata Toure

From the Author Lornet Turnbull

Literary Gems

Middle School Winner

Alessandra Serafini

Brier Terrace Middle School, Brier, Wash.

Broken Promises

“…Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

These words were written by Emma Lazarus and are inscribed on the base of the Statue of Liberty. And yet, the very door they talk about is no longer available to those who need it the most. The door has been shut, chained, and guarded. It no longer shines like gold. Those seeking asylum are being turned away. Families are being split up; children are being stranded. The promise America made to those in need is broken.

Not only is the promise to asylum seekers broken, but the promises made to some 200 million people already residing within the U.S. are broken, too. Anyone within 100 miles of the United States border lives in the “Constitution-free zone” and can be searched with “reasonable suspicion,” a suspicion that is determined by Border Patrol officers. The zone encompasses major cities, such as Seattle and New York City, and it even covers entire states, such as Florida, Massachusetts, and New Jersey. I live in the Seattle area, and it is unsettling that I can be searched and interrogated without the usual warrant. In these areas, there has been an abuse of power; people have been unlawfully searched and interrogated because of assumed race or religion.

The ACLU obtained data from the Customs and Border Protection Agency that demonstrate this reprehensible profiling. The data found that “82 percent of foreign citizens stopped by agents in that state are Latino, and almost 1 in 3 of those processed are, in fact, U.S. citizens.” These warrantless searches impede the trust-building process and communication between the local population and law enforcement officers. Unfortunately, this lack of trust makes campaigns, such as Homeland Security’s “If You See Something, Say Something,” ineffective due to the actions of the department’s own members and officers. Worst of all, profiling ostracizes entire communities and makes them feel unsafe in their own country.

Ironically, asylum seekers come to America in search of safety. However, the thin veil of safety has been drawn back, and, behind it, our tarnished colors are visible. We need to welcome people in their darkest hours rather than destroy their last bit of hope by slamming the door in their faces. The immigration process is currently in shambles, and an effective process is essential for both those already in the country and those outside of it. Many asylum seekers are running from war, poverty, hunger, and death. Their countries’ instability has hijacked every aspect of their lives, made them vagabonds, and the possibility of death, a cruel and unforgiving death, is real. They see no future for their children, and they are desperate for the perceived promise of America—a promise of opportunity, freedom, and a safe future. An effective process would determine who actually needs help and then grant them passage into America. Why should everyone be turned away? My grandmother immigrated to America from Scotland in 1955. I exist because she had a chance that others are now being denied.

Emma Lazarus named Lady Liberty the “Mother of Exiles.” Why are we denying her the happiness of children? Because we cannot decide which ones? America has an inexplicable area where our constitution has been spurned and forgotten. Additionally, there is a rancorous movement to close our southern border because of a deep-rooted fear of immigrants and what they represent. For too many Americans, they represent the end of established power and white supremacy, which is their worst nightmare. In fact, immigrants do represent change—healthy change—with new ideas and new energy that will help make this country stronger. Governmental agreement on a humane security plan is critical to ensure that America reaches its full potential. We can help. We can help people in unimaginably terrifying situations, and that should be our America.

Alessandra Serafini plays on a national soccer team for Seattle United and is learning American Sign Language outside of school. Her goal is to spread awareness about issues such as climate change, poverty, and large-scale political conflict through writing and public speaking.

 High School Winner

Cain Trevino

North Side High School, Fort Worth, Texas

Xenophobia and the Constitution-Free Zone

In August of 2017, U.S. Border Patrol agents boarded a Greyhound bus that had just arrived at the White River Junction station from Boston. According to Danielle Bonadona, a Lebanon resident and a bus passenger, “They wouldn’t let us get off. They boarded the bus and told us they needed to see our IDs or papers.” Bonadona, a 29-year-old American citizen, said that the agents spent around 20 minutes on the bus and “only checked the IDs of people who had accents or were not white.” Bonadona said she was aware of the 100-mile rule, but the experience of being stopped and searched felt “pretty unconstitutional.”

In the YES! article “Two-Thirds of Americans Live in the ‘Constitution-Free Zone’” by Lornet Turnbull, the author references the ACLU’s argument that “the 100-mile zone violates Fourth Amendment protections against unreasonable search and seizure.” However, the Supreme Court upholds the use of immigration checkpoints for inquiries on citizenship status. In my view, the ACLU makes a reasonable argument. The laws of the 100-mile zone are blurred, and, too often, officials give arbitrary reasons to conduct a search. Xenophobia and fear of immigrants burgeons in cities within these areas. People of color and those with accents or who are non-English speakers are profiled by law enforcement agencies that enforce anti-immigrant policies. The “Constitution-free zone” is portrayed as an effective barrier to secure our borders. However, this anti-immigrant zone does not make our country any safer. In fact, it does the opposite.

As a former student from the Houston area, I can tell you that the Constitution-free zone makes immigrants and citizens alike feel on edge. The Department of Homeland Security’s white SUVs patrol our streets. Even students feel the weight of anti-immigrant laws. Dennis Rivera Sarmiento, an undocumented student who attended Austin High School in Houston, was held by school police in February 2018 for a minor altercation and was handed over to county police. He was later picked up by Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) and held in a detention center. It is unfair that kids like Dennis face much harsher consequences for minor incidents than other students with citizenship.

These instances are a direct result of anti-immigrant laws. For example, the 287(g) program gives local and state police the authority to share individuals’ information with ICE after an arrest. This means that immigrants can be deported for committing misdemeanors as minor as running a red light. Other laws like Senate Bill 4, passed by the Texas Legislature, allow police to ask people about their immigration status after they are detained. These policies make immigrants and people of color feel like they’re always under surveillance and that, at any moment, they may be pulled over to be questioned and detained.

During Hurricane Harvey, the immigrant community was hesitant to go to the shelters because images of immigration authorities patrolling the area began to surface online. It made them feel like their own city was against them at a time when they needed them most. Constitution-free zones create communities of fear. For many immigrants, the danger of being questioned about immigration status prevents them from reporting crimes, even when they are the victim. Unreported crime only places more groups of people at risk and, overall, makes communities less safe.

In order to create a humane immigration process, citizens and non-citizens must hold policymakers accountable and get rid of discriminatory laws like 287(g) and Senate Bill 4. Abolishing the Constitution-free zone will also require pressure from the public and many organizations. For a more streamlined legal process, the League of United Latin American Citizens suggests background checks and a small application fee for incoming immigrants, as well as permanent resident status for Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) and Temporary Protected Status (TPS) recipients. Other organizations propose expanding the green card lottery and asylum for immigrants escaping the dangers of their home countries.

Immigrants who come to the U.S. are only looking for an opportunity to provide for their families and themselves; so, the question of deciding who gets inside the border and who doesn’t is the same as trying to prove some people are worth more than others. The narratives created by anti-immigrant media plant the false idea that immigrants bring nothing but crime and terrorism. Increased funding for the border and enforcing laws like 287(g) empower anti-immigrant groups to vilify immigrants and promote a witch hunt that targets innocent people. This hatred and xenophobia allow law enforcement to ask any person of color or non-native English speaker about their citizenship or to detain a teenager for a minor incident. Getting rid of the 100-mile zone means standing up for justice and freedom because nobody, regardless of citizenship, should have to live under laws created from fear and hatred.

Cain Trevino is a sophomore. Cain is proud of his Mexican and Salvadorian descent and is an advocate for the implementation of Ethnic Studies in Texas. He enjoys basketball, playing the violin, and studying computer science. Cain plans to pursue a career in engineering at Stanford University and later earn a PhD. 

High School Winner

Ethan Peter

Kirkwood High School, Kirkwood, Mo.

Bus(ted)

I’m an expert on bussing. For the past couple of months, I’ve been a busser at a pizza restaurant near my house. It may not be the most glamorous job, but it pays all right, and, I’ll admit, I’m in it for the money.

I arrive at 5 p.m. and inspect the restaurant to ensure it is in pristine condition for the 6 p.m. wave of guests. As customers come and go, I pick up their dirty dishes, wash off their tables, and reset them for the next guests. For the first hour of my shift, the work is fairly straightforward.

I met another expert on bussing while crossing the border in a church van two years ago. Our van arrived at the border checkpoint, and an agent stopped us. She read our passports, let us through, and moved on to her next vehicle. The Border Patrol agent’s job seemed fairly straightforward.

At the restaurant, 6 p.m. means a rush of customers. It’s the end of the workday, and these folks are hungry for our pizzas and salads. My job is no longer straightforward.

Throughout the frenzy, the TVs in the restaurant buzz about waves of people coming to the U.S. border. The peaceful ebb and flow enjoyed by Border agents is disrupted by intense surges of immigrants who seek to enter the U.S. Outside forces push immigrants to the United States: wars break out in the Middle East, gangs terrorize parts of Central and South America, and economic downturns force foreigners to look to the U.S., drawn by the promise of opportunity. Refugees and migrant caravans arrive, and suddenly, a Border Patrol agent’s job is no longer straightforward.

I turn from the TVs in anticipation of a crisis exploding inside the restaurant: crowds that arrive together will leave together. I’ve learned that when a table looks finished with their dishes, I need to proactively ask to take those dishes, otherwise, I will fall behind, and the tables won’t be ready for the next customers. The challenge is judging who is finished eating. I’m forced to read clues and use my discretion.

Interpreting clues is part of a Border Patrol agent’s job, too. Lornet Turnbull states, “For example, CBP data obtained by ACLU in Michigan shows that 82 percent of foreign citizens stopped by agents in that state are Latino, and almost 1 in 3 of those processed is, in fact, a U.S. citizen.” While I try to spot customers done with their meals so I can clear their part of the table, the Border Patrol officer uses clues to detect undocumented immigrants. We both sometimes guess incorrectly, but our intentions are to do our jobs to the best of our abilities.

These situations are uncomfortable. I certainly do not enjoy interrupting a conversation to get someone’s dishes, and I doubt Border Patrol agents enjoy interrogating someone about their immigration status. In both situations, the people we mistakenly ask lose time and are subjected to awkward and uncomfortable situations. However, here’s where the busser and the Border Patrol officer’s situations are different: If I make a mistake, the customer faces a minor inconvenience. The stakes for a Border Patrol agent are much higher. Mistakenly asking for documentation and searching someone can lead to embarrassment or fear—it can even be life-changing. Thus, Border Patrol agents must be fairly certain that someone’s immigration status is questionable before they begin their interrogation.

To avoid these situations altogether, the U.S. must make the path to citizenship for immigrants easier. This is particularly true for immigrants fleeing violence. Many people object to this by saying these immigrants will bring violence with them, but data does not support this view. In 1939, a ship of Jewish refugees from Germany was turned away from the U.S.—a decision viewed negatively through the lens of history. Today, many people advocate restricting immigration for refugees from violent countries; they refuse to learn the lessons from 1939. The sad thing is that many of these immigrants are seen as just as violent as the people they are fleeing. We should not confuse the oppressed with the oppressor.

My restaurant appreciates customers because they bring us money, just as we should appreciate immigrants because they bring us unique perspectives. Equally important, immigrants provide this country with a variety of expert ideas and cultures, which builds better human connections and strengthens our society.

Ethan Peter is a junior. Ethan writes for his school newspaper, The Kirkwood Call, and plays volleyball for his high school and a club team. He hopes to continue to grow as a writer in the future. 

University Winner

Daniel Fries

Lane Community College, Eugene, Ore.

Detained on the Road to Equality

The United States is a nation of immigrants. There are currently 43 million foreign-born people living in the U.S. Millions of them are naturalized American citizens, and 23 million, or 7.2 percent of the population, are living here without documentation (US Census, 2016). One in seven residents of the United States was not born here. Multiculturalism is, and always has been, a key part of the American experience. However, romantic notions of finding a better life in the United States for immigrants and refugees don’t reflect reality. In modern history, America is a country that systematically treats immigrants—documented or not—and non-white Americans in a way that is fundamentally different than what is considered right by the majority.

The Equal Protection Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment states,“No state shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any state deprive any person of life, liberty or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.” When a suspected undocumented immigrant is detained, their basic human rights are violated. Warrantless raids on Greyhound buses within 100 miles of the border (an area referred to by some as the “Constitution-free zone”) are clear violations of human rights. These violations are not due to the current state of politics; they are the symptom of blatant racism in the United States and a system that denigrates and abuses people least able to defend themselves.

It is not surprising that some of the mechanisms that drive modern American racism are political in nature. Human beings are predisposed to dislike and distrust individuals that do not conform to the norms of their social group (Mountz, Allison). Some politicians appeal to this suspicion and wrongly attribute high crime rates to non-white immigrants. The truth is that immigrants commit fewer crimes than native-born Americans. In fact, people born in the United States are convicted of crimes at a rate twice that of undocumented non-natives (Cato Institute, 2018).

The majority of immigrants take high risks to seek a better life, giving them incentive to obey the laws of their new country. In many states, any contact with law enforcement may ultimately result in deportation and separation from family. While immigrants commit far fewer crimes, fear of violent crime by much of the U.S. population outweighs the truth. For some politicians, it is easier to sell a border wall to a scared population than it is to explain the need for reformed immigration policy. It’s easier to say that immigrants are taking people’s jobs than explain a changing global economy and its effect on employment. The only crime committed in this instance is discrimination.

Human rights are violated when an undocumented immigrant—or someone perceived as an undocumented immigrant—who has not committed a crime is detained on a Greyhound bus. When a United States citizen is detained on the same bus, constitutional rights are being violated. The fact that this happens every day and that we debate its morality makes it abundantly clear that racism is deeply ingrained in this country. Many Americans who have never experienced this type of oppression lack the capacity to understand its lasting effect. Most Americans don’t know what it’s like to be late to work because they were wrongfully detained, were pulled over by the police for the third time that month for no legal reason, or had to coordinate legal representation for their U.S. citizen grandmother because she was taken off a bus for being a suspected undocumented immigrant. This oppression is cruel and unnecessary.

America doesn’t need a wall to keep out undocumented immigrants; it needs to seriously address how to deal with immigration. It is possible to reform the current system in such a way that anyone can become a member of American society, instead of existing outside of it. If a person wants to live in the United States and agrees to follow its laws and pay its taxes, a path to citizenship should be available.

People come to the U.S. from all over the world for many reasons. Some have no other choice. There are ongoing humanitarian crises in Syria, Yemen, and South America that are responsible for the influx of immigrants and asylum seekers at our borders. If the United States wants to address the current situation, it must acknowledge the global factors affecting the immigrants at the center of this debate and make fact-informed decisions. There is a way to maintain the security of America while treating migrants and refugees compassionately, to let those who wish to contribute to our society do so, and to offer a hand up instead of building a wall.

Daniel Fries studies computer science. Daniel has served as a wildland firefighter in Oregon, California, and Alaska. He is passionate about science, nature, and the ways that technology contributes to making the world a better, more empathetic, and safer place.

Powerful Voice Winner

Emma Hernandez-Sanchez

Wellness, Business and Sports School, Woodburn, Ore.

An Emotion an Immigrant Knows Too Well

Before Donald Trump’s campaign, I was oblivious to my race and the idea of racism. As far as I knew, I was the same as everyone else. I didn’t stop to think about our different-colored skins. I lived in a house with a family and attended school five days a week just like everyone else. So, what made me different?

Seventh grade was a very stressful year—the year that race and racism made an appearance in my life. It was as if a cold splash of water woke me up and finally opened my eyes to what the world was saying. It was this year that Donald Trump started initiating change about who got the right to live in this country and who didn’t. There was a lot of talk about deportation, specifically for Mexicans, and it sparked commotion and fear in me.

I remember being afraid and nervous to go out. At home, the anxiety was there but always at the far back of my mind because I felt safe inside. My fear began as a small whisper, but every time I stepped out of my house, it got louder. I would have dreams about the deportation police coming to my school; when I went to places like the library, the park, the store, or the mall, I would pay attention to everyone and to my surroundings. In my head, I would always ask myself, “Did they give us nasty looks?,” “Why does it seem quieter?” “Was that a cop I just saw?” I would notice little things, like how there were only a few Mexicans out or how empty a store was. When my mom went grocery shopping, I would pray that she would be safe. I was born in America, and both my parents were legally documented. My mom was basically raised here. Still, I couldn’t help but feel nervous.

I knew I shouldn’t have been afraid, but with one look, agents could have automatically thought my family and I were undocumented. Even when the deportation police would figure out that we weren’t undocumented, they’d still figure out a way to deport us—at least that was what was going through my head. It got so bad that I didn’t even want to do the simplest things like go grocery shopping because there was a rumor that the week before a person was taken from Walmart.

I felt scared and nervous, and I wasn’t even undocumented. I can’t even imagine how people who are undocumented must have felt, how they feel. All I can think is that it’s probably ten times worse than what I was feeling. Always worrying about being deported and separated from your family must be hard. I was living in fear, and I didn’t even have it that bad. My heart goes out to families that get separated from each other. It’s because of those fears that I detest the “Constitution-free zone.”

Legally documented and undocumented people who live in the Constitution-free zone are in constant fear of being deported. People shouldn’t have to live this way. In fact, there have been arguments that the 100-mile zone violates the Fourth Amendment, which gives people the right to be protected from unreasonable searches and seizures of property by the government. Unfortunately, the U.S. Supreme Court has consistently upheld these practices.

One question that Lornet Turnbull asks in her YES! article “Two-Thirds of Americans Live in the ‘Constitution-Free Zone’” is, “How should we decide who is welcome in the U.S and who is not?” Instead of focusing on immigrants, how about we focus on the people who shoot up schools, rape girls, exploit women for human sex trafficking, and sell drugs? These are the people who make our country unsafe; they are the ones who shouldn’t be accepted. Even if they are citizens and have the legal right to live here, they still shouldn’t be included. If they are the ones making this country unsafe, then what gives them the right to live here?

I don’t think that the Constitution-free zone is an effective and justifiable way to make this country more “secure.” If someone isn’t causing any trouble in the United States and is just simply living their life, then they should be welcomed here. We shouldn’t have to live in fear that our rights will be taken away. I believe that it’s unfair for people to automatically think that it’s the Hispanics that make this country unsafe. Sure, get all the undocumented people out of the United States, but it’s not going to make this country any safer. It is a society that promotes violence that makes us unsafe, not a race.

Emma Hernandez-Sanchez is a freshman who is passionate about literature and her education. Emma wants to inspire others to be creative and try their best. She enjoys reading and creating stories that spark imagination. 

 Powerful Voice Winner

Tiara Lewis

Columbus City Preparatory Schools for Girls,

Columbus, Ohio

Hold Your Head High and Keep Those Fists Down

How would you feel if you walked into a store and salespeople were staring at you? Making you feel like you didn’t belong. Judging you. Assuming that you were going to take something, even though you might have $1,000 on you to spend. Sometimes it doesn’t matter. This is because people will always judge you. It might not be because of your race but for random reasons, like because your hair is black instead of dirty blonde. Or because your hair is short and not long. Or just because they are having a bad day. People will always find ways to bring you down and accuse you of something, but that doesn’t mean you have to go along with it.

Every time I entered a store, I would change my entire personality. I would change the way I talked and the way I walked. I always saw myself as needing to fit in. If a store was all pink, like the store Justice, I would act like a girly girl. If I was shopping in a darker store, like Hot Topic, I would hum to the heavy metal songs and act more goth. I had no idea that I was feeding into stereotypes.

When I was 11, I walked into Claire’s, a well-known store at the mall. That day was my sister’s birthday. Both of us were really happy and had money to spend. As soon as we walked into the store, two employees stared me and my sister down, giving us cold looks. When we went to the cashier to buy some earrings, we thought everything was fine. However, when we walked out of the store, there was a policeman and security guards waiting. At that moment, my sister and I looked at one another, and I said, in a scared little girl voice, “I wonder what happened? Why are they here?”

Then, they stopped us. We didn’t know what was going on. The same employee that cashed us out was screaming as her eyes got big, “What did you steal?” I was starting to get numb. Me and my sister looked at each other and told the truth: “We didn’t steal anything. You can check us.” They rudely ripped through our bags and caused a big scene. My heart was pounding like a drum. I felt violated and scared. Then, the policeman said, “Come with us. We need to call your parents.” While this was happening, the employees were talking to each other, smiling. We got checked again. The police said that they were going to check the cameras, but after they were done searching us, they realized that we didn’t do anything wrong and let us go about our day.

Walking in the mall was embarrassing—everybody staring, looking, and whispering as we left the security office. This made me feel like I did something wrong while knowing I didn’t. We went back to the store to get our shopping bags. The employees sneered, “Don’t you niggers ever come in this store again. You people always take stuff. This time you just got lucky.” Their faces were red and frightening. It was almost like they were in a scary 3D movie, screaming, and coming right at us. I felt hurt and disappointed that someone had the power within them to say something so harsh and wrong to another person. Those employees’ exact words will forever be engraved in my memory.

In the article, “Two-Thirds of Americans Live in the ‘Constitution-Free Zone’,” Lornet Turnbull states, “In January, they stopped a man in Indio, California, as he was boarding a Los Angeles-bound bus. While questioning this man about his immigration status, agents told him his ‘shoes looked suspicious,’ like those of someone who had recently crossed the border.” They literally judged him by his shoes. They had no proof of anything. If a man is judged by his shoes, who else and what else are being judged in the world?

In the novel To Kill a Mockingbird, a character named Atticus states, “You just hold your head high and keep those fists down. No matter what anybody says to you, don’t you let’em get your goat. Try fighting with your head for a change.” No matter how much you might try to change yourself, your hairstyle, and your clothes, people will always make assumptions about you. However, you never need to change yourself to make a point or to feel like you fit in. Be yourself. Don’t let those stereotypes turn into facts.

Tiara Lewis is in the eighth grade. Tiara plays the clarinet and is trying to change the world— one essay at a time. She is most often found curled up on her bed, “Divergent” in one hand and a cream-filled doughnut in the other.

 Powerful Voice Winner

Hailee Park

Brier Terrace Middle School, Brier, Wash.

 Wielding My Swords

If I were a swordsman, my weapons would be my identities. I would wield one sword in my left hand and another in my right. People expect me to use both fluently, but I’m not naturally ambidextrous. Even though I am a right-handed swordsman, wielding my dominant sword with ease, I must also carry a sword in my left, the heirloom of my family heritage. Although I try to live up to others’ expectations by using both swords, I may appear inexperienced while attempting to use my left. In some instances, my heirloom is mistaken for representing different families’ since the embellishments look similar.

Many assumptions are made about my heirloom sword based on its appearance, just as many assumptions are made about me based on my physical looks. “Are you Chinese?” When I respond with ‘no,’ they stare at me blankly in confusion. There is a multitude of Asian cultures in the United States, of which I am one. Despite what many others may assume, I am not Chinese; I am an American-born Korean.

“Then… are you Japanese?” Instead of asking a broader question, like “What is your ethnicity?,” they choose to ask a direct question. I reply that I am Korean. I like to think that this answers their question sufficiently; however, they think otherwise. Instead, I take this as their invitation to a duel.

They attack me with another question: “Are you from North Korea or South Korea?” I don’t know how to respond because I’m not from either of those countries; I was born in America. I respond with “South Korea,” where my parents are from because I assume that they’re asking me about my ethnicity. I’m not offended by this situation because I get asked these questions frequently. From this experience, I realize that people don’t know how to politely ask questions about identity to those unlike them. Instead of asking “What is your family’s ethnicity?,” many people use rude alternatives, such as “Where are you from?,” or “What language do you speak?”

When people ask these questions, they make assumptions based on someone’s appearance. In my case, people make inferences like:

“She must be really good at speaking Korean.”

“She’s Asian; therefore, she must be born in Asia.”

“She’s probably Chinese.”

These thoughts may appear in their heads because making assumptions is natural. However, there are instances when assumptions can be taken too far. Some U.S. Border Patrol agents in the “Constitution-free zone” have made similar assumptions based on skin color and clothing. For example, agents marked someone as an undocumented immigrant because “his shoes looked suspicious, like those of someone who had recently crossed the border.”

Another instance was when a Jamaican grandmother was forced off a bus when she was visiting her granddaughter. The impetus was her accent and the color of her skin. Government officials chose to act on their assumptions, even though they had no solid proof that the grandmother was an undocumented immigrant. These situations just touch the surface of the issue of racial injustice in America.

When someone makes unfair assumptions about me, they are pointing their sword and challenging me to a duel; I cannot refuse because I am already involved. It is not appropriate for anyone, including Border Patrol agents, to make unjustified assumptions or to act on those assumptions. Border Patrol agents have no right to confiscate the swords of the innocent solely based on their conjectures. The next time I’m faced with a situation where racially ignorant assumptions are made about me, I will refuse to surrender my sword, point it back at them, and triumphantly fight their ignorance with my cultural pride.

Hailee Park is an eighth grader who enjoys reading many genres. While reading, Hailee recognized the racial injustices against immigrants in America, which inspired her essay. Hailee plays violin in her school’s orchestra and listens to and composes music. 

 Powerful Voice Winner

Aminata Toure

East Harlem School, New York City, N.Y.

We Are Still Dreaming

As a young Muslim American woman, I have been labeled things I am not: a terrorist, oppressed, and an ISIS supporter. I have been accused of planning 9/11, an event that happened before I was born. Lately, in the media, Muslims have been portrayed as supporters of a malevolent cause, terrorizing others just because they do not have the same beliefs. I often scoff at news reports that portray Muslims in such a light, just as I scoff at all names I’ve been labeled. They are words that do not define me. 

In a land where labels have stripped immigrants of their personalities, they are now being stripped of something that makes them human: their rights. The situation described in Lornet Turnbull’s article, “Two-Thirds of Americans are Living in the ‘Constitution-Free Zone’,” goes directly against the Constitution, the soul of this country, something that asserts that we are all equal before the law. If immigrants do not have protection from the Constitution, is there any way to feel safe?

Although most insults are easy to shrug off, they are still threatening. I am ashamed when I feel afraid to go to the mosque. Friday is an extremely special day when we gather together to pray, but lately, I haven’t been going to the mosque for Jummah prayers. I have realized that I can never feel safe when in a large group of Muslims because of the widespread hatred of Muslims in the United States, commonly referred to as Islamophobia. Police surround our mosque, and there are posters warning us about dangerous people who might attack our place of worship because we have been identified as terrorists.

I wish I could tune out every news report that blasts out the headline “Terrorist Attack!” because I know that I will be judged based on the actions of someone else. Despite this anti-Muslim racism, what I have learned from these insults is that I am proud of my faith. I am a Muslim, but being Muslim doesn’t define me. I am a writer, a student, a dreamer, a friend, a New Yorker, a helper, and an American. I am unapologetically me, a Muslim, and so much more. I definitely think everyone should get to know a Muslim. They would see that some of us are also Harry Potter fans, not just people planning to bomb the White House.

Labels are unjustly placed on us because of the way we speak, the color of our skin, and what we believe in—not for who we are as individuals. Instead, we should all take more time to get to know one another. As Martin Luther King Jr. said in his “I Have a Dream” speech, we should be judged by the content of our character and not the color of our skin. To me, it seems Martin Luther King Jr.’s dream is a dream that should be a reality. But, for now, we are dreaming.

Aminata Toure is a Guinean American Muslim student. Aminata loves spoken-word poetry and performs in front of hundreds of people at her school’s annual poetry slam. She loves writing, language, history, and West African food and culture. Aminata wants to work at the United Nations when she grows up.

From the Author 

Dear Alessandra, Cain, Daniel, Tiara, Emma, Hailee, Aminata and Ethan,

I am moved and inspired by the thought each of you put into your responses to my story about this so-called “Constitution-free zone.” Whether we realize it or not, immigration in this country impacts all of us— either because we are immigrants ourselves, have neighbors, friends, and family who are, or because we depend on immigrants for many aspects of our lives—from the food we put on our tables to the technology that bewitches us. It is true that immigrants enrich our society in so many important ways, as many of you point out.

And while the federal statute that permits U.S. Border Patrol officers to stop and search at will any of the 200 million of us in this 100-mile shadow border, immigrants have been their biggest targets. In your essays, you highlight how unjust the law is—nothing short of racial profiling. It is heartening to see each of you, in your own way, speaking out against the unfairness of this practice.

Alessandra, you are correct, the immigration system in this country is in shambles. You make a powerful argument about how profiling ostracizes entire communities and how the warrantless searches allowed by this statute impede trust-building between law enforcement and the people they are called on to serve.

And Cain, you point out how this 100-mile zone, along with other laws in the state of Texas where you attended school, make people feel like they’re “always under surveillance, and that, at any moment, you may be pulled over to be questioned and detained.”
It seems unimaginable that people live their lives this way, yet millions in this country do.

You, Emma, for example, speak of living in a kind of silent fear since Donald Trump took office, even though you were born in this country and your parents are here legally. You are right, “We shouldn’t have to live in fear that our rights will be taken away.”

And Aminata, you write of being constantly judged and labeled because you’re a Muslim American. How unfortunate and sad that in a country that generations of people fled to search for religious freedom, you are ashamed at times to practice your own. The Constitution-free zone, you write, “goes directly against the Constitution, the soul of this country, something that asserts that we are all equal before the law.”

Tiara, I could personally relate to your gripping account of being racially profiled and humiliated in a store. You were appalled that the Greyhound passenger in California was targeted by Border Patrol because they claimed his shoes looked like those of someone who had walked across the border: “If a man is judged by his shoes,” you ask, “who else and what else are getting judged in the world?”

Hailee, you write about the incorrect assumptions people make about you, an American born of Korean descent, based solely on your appearance and compared it to the assumptions Border Patrol agents make about those they detain in this zone.

Daniel, you speak of the role of political fearmongering in immigration. It’s not new, but under the current administration, turning immigrants into boogiemen for political gain is currency. You write that “For some politicians, it is easier to sell a border wall to a scared population than it is to explain the need for reformed immigration policy.”

And Ethan, you recognize the contributions immigrants make to this country through the connections we all make with them and the strength they bring to our society.

Keep speaking your truth. Use your words and status to call out injustice wherever and whenever you see it. Untold numbers of people spoke out against this practice by Border Patrol and brought pressure on Greyhound to change. In December, the company began offering passengers written guidance—in both Spanish and English—so they understand what their rights are when officers board their bus. Small steps, yes, but progress nonetheless, brought about by people just like you, speaking up for those who sometimes lack a voice to speak up for themselves.

With sincere gratitude,

Lornet Turnbull

Lornet Turnbull is an editor for YES! and a Seattle-based freelance writer. Follow her on Twitter @TurnbullL.

Literary Gems

We received many outstanding essays for the Winter 2019 Student Writing Competition. Though not every participant can win the contest, we’d like to share some excerpts that caught our eye:

After my parents argued with the woman, they told me if you can fight with fists, you prove the other person’s point, but when you fight with the power of your words, you can have a much bigger impact. I also learned that I should never be ashamed of where I am from.
—Fernando Flores, The East Harlem School, New York City, N.Y.

Just because we were born here and are privileged to the freedom of our country, we do not have the right to deprive others of a chance at success.
—Avalyn Cox, Brier Terrace Middle School, Brier, Wash.

Maybe, rather than a wall, a better solution to our immigration problem would be a bridge.
—Sean Dwyer, Lane Community College, Eugene, Ore.

If anything, what I’ve learned is that I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to change our world. I don’t know how to make a difference, how to make my voice heard. But I have learned the importance of one word, a simple two-letter word that’s taught to the youngest of us, a word we all know but never recognize: the significance of ‘we.’
—Enna Chiu, Highland Park High School, Highland Park, N.J.

Not to say the Border Patrol should not have authorization to search people within the border, but I am saying it should be near the border, more like one mile, not 100.
—Cooper Tarbuck, Maranacook Middle School, Manchester, Maine.

My caramel color, my feminism, my Spanish and English language, my Mexican culture, and my young Latina self gives me the confidence to believe in myself, but it can also teach others that making wrong assumptions about someone because of their skin color, identity, culture, looks or gender can make them look and be weaker.
—Ana Hernandez, The East Harlem School, New York City, N.Y.

We don’t need to change who we are to fit these stereotypes like someone going on a diet to fit into a new pair of pants.
—Kaylee Meyers, Brier Terrace Middle School, Brier, Wash.

If a human being with no criminal background whatsoever has trouble entering the country because of the way he or she dresses or speaks, border protection degenerates into arbitrariness.
—Jonas Schumacher, Heidelberg University of Education, Heidelberg, Germany

I believe that you should be able to travel freely throughout your own country without the constant fear of needing to prove that you belong here.
—MacKenzie Morgan, Lincoln Middle School, Ypsilanti, Mich.

America is known as “the Land of Opportunity,” but this label is quickly disappearing. If we keep stopping those striving for a better life, then what will become of this country?
—Ennyn Chiu, Highland Park Middle School, Highland Park, N.J.

The fact that two-thirds of the people in the U.S. are living in an area called the “Constitution-free zone” is appalling. Our Constitution was made to protect our rights as citizens, no matter where we are in the country. These systems that we are using to “secure” our country are failing, and we need to find a way to change them.
—Isis Liaw, Brier Terrace Middle School, Brier, Wash.

I won’t let anyone, especially a man, tell me what I can do, because I am a strong Latina. I will represent where I come from, and I am proud to be Mexican. I will show others that looks can be deceiving. I will show others that even the weakest animal, a beautiful butterfly, is tough, and it will cross any border, no matter how challenging the journey may be.
—Brittany Leal, The East Harlem School, New York City, N.Y.

Today, reproductive rights are under attack. The Trump administration and Republican lawmakers have proposed legislation to limit full access to family planning, women’s health and abortion services, birth control, and comprehensive sex education. Individuals are left with fewer choices and less protection toward their bodily autonomy.

In the face of these challenges, people are pushing back. However, not all voices are represented equally in the call for change. The fight for reproductive rights often fails to recognize the ways race, class, sexual orientation, gender identity, ability, and geography impact people’s ability to have “choice.”

In this Let’s Talk About edition, we provide resources to spark a conversation about reproductive justice, a movement fighting for everyone’s bodily rights. This topic will encourage students to think about what it means to have “choice” and to say, “My body is mine!”

We recognize that talking about reproductive justice with your students may be uncomfortable, not necessarily age-appropriate—and may not even be allowed in your building. You know your students and school community best. If you choose to have this discussion, it’s important to provide a safe environment where students can voice their opinions honestly without fear of being judged or silenced. Here’s a guide from Facing History and Ourselves that may help you talk about tough topics with your students.

How to Use This Collection

Suggested below are steps to a thoughtful and meaningful discussion with your students about reproductive justice. Choose what is appropriate for your class.

1. Students complete a pre-survey. (optional).

2. Choose at least one YES! article and one outside article for a robust compare and contrast.

3. Use the discussion questions—or craft your own—to gauge your students’ understanding and opinions.

4. Students complete a post-survey. (optional).

5. Explore curriculum if you’d like to dive deeper.

6. Share Francesca Grossberg’s essay “My Potluck, My Choice” with your students to show them another student’s perspective on the issue of reproductive rights. 

Reading Materials

YES! Articles

I Know Why Black Women Are Wary of Reproductive Activism

3 Maps Show Where Legal Abortions Are Hardest to Get—and Who Lives There

Where Birth Control Is Scarce, Young Women Create Sex Education Outside the Classroom

Why Childbirth and Abortion Are Not Separate Issues

From IVF to Miscarriages: 5 Ways We Can Talk About Infertility

Outside Article

Reproductive Justice (SisterSong)

How the Next Supreme Court Justice Could Affect Your Access to Birth Control (PBS)

6 Tips for Making Your Conversations About Reproductive Rights More Trans-Inclusive (everyday feminism)

Discussion Questions

1. When we talk about reproductive rights, we often use language of “choice.” Who gets to have reproductive choice in this country? How do a person’s different identities (race, class, gender, etc.) impact their rights and access to reproductive services?

2. Some people may assume that reproductive justice is solely a women’s issue. What do you feel is the role of men and gender non-binary people in reproductive justice?  How do people of any gender benefit from reproductive justice?

3. Do you feel like you have the ability—and the freedom—to make choices about your body? Explain your answer.

Curriculum

What Are My Reproductive Rights? (Advocates for Youth)

One Student’s Perspective

“My Potluck, My Choice,” by Francesca Grossberg, grade 8, Ethical Culture Fieldston School, Bronx, NY.

 Francesca’s essay was submitted to the fall 2018 YES! National Student Writing Competition, “Feeding Ourselves, Feeding Our Revolutions.”

The YES! National Student Writing Competition is an opportunity for middle school through university students to write something meaningful for an audience beyond the classroom and the chance to be published by an award-winning magazine.

Each quarter, students are invited to read and write an essay on a selected YES! Magazine article. There are four award categories: middle school, high school, university, and Powerful Voice (for authors whose essays are especially powerful and passionate). Winning essays in each category are published on the YES! Magazine website and in our online education newsletter, reaching thousands of YES! readers and more than 11,000 teachers. One winning essay per contest is published in our quarterly print magazine.

Register here by February 27. Essays are due by April 9.

Click here for general information about the writing competition.

Read recently featured essays here.

Three Things That Matter Most 

For the spring contest, students will read the YES! article “Three Things That Matter Most in Youth and Old Age” by Nancy Hill. 

Every day we are distracted by the clutter and chaos of the modern world. Photographer Nancy Hill recognized this and wanted perspective on the question, “What is important?” She asked two groups—children under 7 because they have lived relatively simple lives and adults over 70 because they have decades of experience—to explore what three things mattered most to them.

In addition to finding patterns in the responses, Hill also discovered that we live among amazing people over 70, yet few of us know about their experiences—the lives they’ve lived. She realized that we need to reach out and learn from these remarkable seniors so their stories and wisdom don’t quietly disappear.

The Writing Prompt:

Students, please respond to the writing prompt below with an up-to-700-word essay:

What are three things that matter most to you? Now, ask the same question to someone significantly older than you. Find out why this person chose these three things. How did your answers compare? Describe what you learned from the person you interviewed.* 

*While this is not a contest requirement, please consider taking a photo of the person you interview. Make sure you have their consent. 

Who is eligible?

You must be a classroom teacher—homeschool cooperatives, resource centers, supervised writing groups, and schools outside the U.S. included—for your students to participate. We cannot accept essays or registrations independently sent by students. Student writers should be in grades 6-8 (middle school), grades 9-12 (high school), or college/university.

Common Core State Standards

This writing competition meets several Common Core State Standards for grades 6-12, including W.9-10.3 and W.9-10.4 for Writing, and RI.9-10.1 and RI.9-10.2 for Reading: Informational Text *
*This standard applies to other grade levels. “9-10” is used as an example.

What are the essay requirements?

• Respond to the article and the writing prompt provided by YES!

• Provide an original essay title

• Reference the article in the essay

• Compose no more than 700 words

• Must be original, unpublished words

In addition, we are evaluating essays for:

• Grammar

• Organization

• Strong style and personal voice. We encourage writers to include personal examples and insights.

• Originality and clarity of content and ideas

How do I submit the essays?

• You must be registered for the competition by February 27.

• E-mail your student essays as word-processed document attachments (please no pdf or scanned documents) or as an open-access Google Doc to writingcompetition@yesmagazine.org no later than April 9. Please do not send essays to jfong@yesmagazine.org

• You may submit up to three essays per class. Example: If you are submitting essays for two classes, you may send up to a total of six essays—but they must be up to three essays per class, not four essays for one class and two from the other. 

• Include a scanned, completed student release form with each submitted essay. Please make sure student email addresses are legible and visible. NOTE: Please submit all student essays by April 9, even if there are missing release forms. You may send completed students releases as soon as you receive them.

• Winners will be announced by the end of May.

Contest Forms:

Registration Form 
Student Release Form
Evaluation Rubric

Money is one of the most uncomfortable topics to discuss for people of any age, and it’s not hard to understand why.

Personal finances, let alone international commerce systems, can be complex to comprehend and navigate. Wealth inequality is on the rise. Money can be an indicator of success and happiness—or not. We also know that there’s a lot of money out there and that a lot of people don’t have access to it.

In this “Let’s Talk About” collection, we attempt to expand your students’ perspective on money by shifting the discussion away from greed and fear. Instead, we examine public (not corporate) banks, happiness, charitable giving, divestment, and entrepreneurship as good-money paths that can lead to equity and improved lives.

You and your students can learn more about other opportunities to acquire wealth, capital, and good credit, especially for low-income Americans, in YES! Magazine’s The Good Money Issue.

How to Use This Collection

Suggested below are steps to a thoughtful and meaningful discussion with your students about money and its role in their personal lives and in society. Choose what is appropriate for your class.

1. Consult this article from Psychology Today on how to talk about money with your students.

2. Have students complete a pre-survey  (optional). 

3. Choose at least one YES! article and another site’s article for a robust compare and contrast.

4. Use the discussion questions—or craft your own—to gauge your students’ understanding and opinions.

5. Have students complete a post-survey  (optional). 

6. Explore curriculum if you’d like to dive deeper.

Reading Materials

 YES! Articles

This Kind of Wealth Really Can Solve Our Problems

Standing Rock’s Surprising Legacy: A Push for Public Banks

How Funding Black Businesses Can Help Bridge the Racial Wealth Gap

Money Talks: How To Make Those Hard Conversations Easier

Infographic: Here’s Enough Money to Pay Off Millennials’ Student Debt

Outside Articles

Money Can’t Buy Happiness, But It Does Change How You Experience It (TIME Magazine)

The Green New Deal is Our Best Hope for Saving the Planet—and Ending Poverty  (The Nation)

You Should Budget for Charitable Giving Even If You Aren’t Rich (Forbes)

Discussion Questions

1. How do you define wealth? Is having a lot of money the only way to be wealthy? What are things in your life that you value most—and how are they related to money?

2. As many of the articles stated, not everyone in society has the same opportunity or ability to achieve financial stability or success due to systems of oppression, like racism.  What needs to happen to change this cycle and make wealth more attainable?

3. For you and your family, how much money is enough? And, conversely, how much money is too much? How does your family spend (and save) money?

Curriculum

From Resentment to Riches: The Keys to Transforming Your Relationship With Money (Conscious Lifestyle Magazine)

In October, a caravan of over 7,000 migrants left Central America for Mexico, and this week another caravan from Honduras plans to leave.

The torrent of Central American families at the border exposes not only this country’s broken immigration and asylum systems, but also how immigrants, refugees, and asylum-seekers are too often feared and misunderstood. On Jan. 12, the U.S. broke the record for the longest federal government shutdown in its history, due to conflicts surrounding President Trump’s insistence on building a $5.7 billion border wall. Meanwhile, thousands of migrants wait at the border for asylum and hundreds of children in detention centers wait to be reunited with their families.

Our newest “Let’s Talk About” collection addresses the Central American migrant caravans and this country’s response to the thousands at its “doorstep.” This topic encourages students to think critically about U.S. immigration and asylum policies and reflect on our obligations as fellow human beings.

We have discussion guides on other tough topics. You can explore them here.

How to Use This Collection

Suggested below are steps to begin a thoughtful and meaningful discussion with your students about the migrant caravan heading from Central America to the U.S. Choose what is appropriate for your class.

1. Have students complete a pre-survey (optional)

2. Choose at least one YES! article and another site’s article for a robust compare and contrast.

3. Use the discussion questions—or craft your own—to gauge your students’ understanding and opinions.

4. Have students complete a post-survey (optional).

5. Explore curriculum if you’d like to dive deeper.

Reading Materials

YES! Articles

Migrant Life at the U.S. Border: 24 Hours in Photos

Grandmothers Bring Food and Comfort to Asylum-Seekers at Bus Stations

Why Hondurans See Migration as an Act of Civil Disobedience

Europe’s History with Refugees Has Something to Tell the U.S.

Indian Country Remembers the Trauma of Children Taken from Their Parents

Why the Migrant Caravan Is a Climate Change Story

Outside Articles

As the government shutdown over Trump’s border wall rages, a journey along the entire 1,933-mile US–Mexico border shows the monumental task of securing it (Business Insider)

After long, dangerous journey, this immigrant’s dreams may end in Tijuana (PBS NewsHour)

Facts, not fears: four myths about the mass exodus from Central America (Oxfam)

An ‘invasion of illegal aliens’: The oldest immigration fear-mongering metaphor in America (The Washington Post)

Discussion Questions

1. Why do you think President Trump is adamant about building a wall at the U.S.–Mexico border? What is at the root of people’s desire to keep the migrant caravan out of the U.S.—or to welcome them to the U.S.?

2. The immigration crisis and the migrant caravan reflect a long history of people seeking asylum from their home countries and facing barriers at the border. Many migrants say it is not by choice but by necessity that they leave due to violence, extreme poverty, war, and hunger. If you were facing similar circumstances, what would you do? Would you attempt the journey for the chance at a better life?

3. What three adjectives best describe the journey of a migrant seeking asylum? Describe why you chose these three words.

Curriculum

Re-imagining Migration (UCLA)

Teaching the U.S.-Mexico Border (Latin American and Iberian Institute, The University of New Mexico )

Students will read and respond to Korsha Wilson’s article, “Cooking Stirs the Pot for Social Change.”

 In this article, Wilson explores the power of food to spark change in our communities. The author believes that cooking and consumption are not just necessary for survival; they are also political acts of resistance against oppression, means to preserve heritage, and ways for change-makers to practice self-care.

Download lesson as a PDF.

Explore more student writing lessons.

YES! Magazine Article and Writing Prompt

Read the YES! Magazine article by Korsha Wilson, “Cooking Stirs the Pot for Social Change.”

Writing Prompt:

If you were to host a potluck or dinner to discuss a challenge facing your community or country, what food would you cook? Whom would you invite? On what issue would you deliberate?

Writing Guidelines

The writing guidelines below are intended to be just that—a guide. Please adapt to fit your curriculum.

· Provide an original essay title

· Reference the article

· Limit the essay to no more than 700 words

· Pay attention to grammar and organization

· Be original. provide personal examples and insights

· Demonstrate clarity of content and ideas

· This writing exercise meets several Common Core State Standards for grades 6-12, including W. 9-10.3 and W. 9-10.14 for Writing, and RI. 9-10 and RI. 9-10.2 for Reading: Informational Text.*

*This standard applies to other grade levels. “9-10” is used as an example.

Evaluation Rubric

Sample Essays

The essays below were selected as winners for the Fall 2018 YES! National Student Writing Competition. Please use them as sample essays or mentor text. The ideas, structure, and writing style of these essays may provide inspiration for your own students’ writing—and an excellent platform for analysis and discussion.

A Feast for the Future by India Brown, grade 8. Read India’s essay about a potluck that inspires farmers and climate deniers to work together towards solutions to climate change.

Apple Pie Embrace by Grace Williams, grade 11. Read Grace’s essay about a Thanksgiving dinner that celebrates the blending of her family’s American and Iraqi cultures.

Nourishing Change After Tragedy Strikes by Lillia Borodkin, university. Read Lillia’s essay about bringing both Jewish and non-Jewish people together at a Shabbat table to heal in the wake of the Tree of Life shooting and to take a stand against anti-Semitism.

Last Meal by Paisley Regester, grade 12. Read Paisley’s essay about how the injustice of the death penalty will be highlighted by simulating death row prisoners’ last meals before execution.

The Empty Seat by Emma Lingo, grade 11. Read Emma’s essay about imagining a family dinner where fruit salad, gumbo, and a sober father are at the table.

Bittersweet Reunion by Hayden Wilson, grade 11. Read Hayden’s essay about being transgender and gathering his aunts, uncles, and cousins to introduce them to the “me they haven’t met.”

We Want to Hear From You!

How do you see this lesson fitting in your curriculum? Already tried it? Tell us—and other teachers—how the lesson worked for you and your students.

Please leave your comments below, including what grade you teach.

For the Fall 2018 student writing competition, “Feeding Ourselves, Feeding Our Revolutions,” we invited students to read the YES! Magazine article, “Cooking Stirs the Pot for Social Change,”  by Korsha Wilson and respond to this writing prompt: If you were to host a potluck or dinner to discuss a challenge facing your community or country, what food would you cook? Whom would you invite? On what issue would you deliberate? 

The Winners

From the hundreds of essays written, these six—on anti-Semitism, cultural identity, death row prisoners, coming out as transgender, climate change, and addiction—were chosen as essay winners.  Be sure to read the literary gems and catchy titles that caught our eye.

Middle School Winner: India Brown
High School Winner: Grace Williams
University Winner: Lillia Borodkin
Powerful Voice Winner: Paisley Regester
Powerful Voice Winner: Emma Lingo
Powerful Voice Winner: Hayden Wilson

Literary Gems
Clever Titles

Middle School Winner: India Brown  

A Feast for the Future

Close your eyes and imagine the not too distant future: The Statue of Liberty is up to her knees in water, the streets of lower Manhattan resemble the canals of Venice, and hurricanes arrive in the fall and stay until summer. Now, open your eyes and see the beautiful planet that we will destroy if we do not do something. Now is the time for change. Our future is in our control if we take actions, ranging from small steps, such as not using plastic straws, to large ones, such as reducing fossil fuel consumption and electing leaders who take the problem seriously.

 Hosting a dinner party is an extraordinary way to publicize what is at stake. At my potluck, I would serve linguini with clams. The clams would be sautéed in white wine sauce. The pasta tossed with a light coat of butter and topped with freshly shredded parmesan. I choose this meal because it cannot be made if global warming’s patterns persist. Soon enough, the ocean will be too warm to cultivate clams, vineyards will be too sweltering to grow grapes, and wheat fields will dry out, leaving us without pasta.

I think that giving my guests a delicious meal and then breaking the news to them that its ingredients would be unattainable if Earth continues to get hotter is a creative strategy to initiate action. Plus, on the off chance the conversation gets drastically tense, pasta is a relatively difficult food to throw.

In YES! Magazine’s article, “Cooking Stirs the Pot for Social Change,” Korsha Wilson says “…beyond the narrow definition of what cooking is, you can see that cooking is and has always been an act of resistance.” I hope that my dish inspires people to be aware of what’s at stake with increasing greenhouse gas emissions and work toward creating a clean energy future.

 My guest list for the potluck would include two groups of people: local farmers, who are directly and personally affected by rising temperatures, increased carbon dioxide, drought, and flooding, and people who either do not believe in human-caused climate change or don’t think it affects anyone. I would invite the farmers or farm owners because their jobs and crops are dependent on the weather. I hope that after hearing a farmer’s perspective, climate-deniers would be awakened by the truth and more receptive to the effort to reverse these catastrophic trends.

Earth is a beautiful planet that provides everything we’ll ever need, but because of our pattern of living—wasteful consumption, fossil fuel burning, and greenhouse gas emissions— our habitat is rapidly deteriorating. Whether you are a farmer, a long-shower-taking teenager, a worker in a pollution-producing factory, or a climate-denier, the future of humankind is in our hands. The choices we make and the actions we take will forever affect planet Earth.

 India Brown is an eighth grader who lives in New York City with her parents and older brother. She enjoys spending time with her friends, walking her dog, Morty, playing volleyball and lacrosse, and swimming.

High School Winner: Grace Williams

Apple Pie Embrace

It’s 1:47 a.m. Thanksgiving smells fill the kitchen. The sweet aroma of sugar-covered apples and buttery dough swirls into my nostrils. Fragrant orange and rosemary permeate the room and every corner smells like a stroll past the open door of a French bakery. My eleven-year-old eyes water, red with drowsiness, and refocus on the oven timer counting down. Behind me, my mom and aunt chat to no end, fueled by the seemingly self-replenishable coffee pot stashed in the corner. Their hands work fast, mashing potatoes, crumbling cornbread, and covering finished dishes in a thin layer of plastic wrap. The most my tired body can do is sit slouched on the backless wooden footstool. I bask in the heat escaping under the oven door.

 As a child, I enjoyed Thanksgiving and the preparations that came with it, but it seemed like more of a bridge between my birthday and Christmas than an actual holiday. Now, it’s a time of year I look forward to, dedicated to family, memories, and, most importantly, food. What I realized as I grew older was that my homemade Thanksgiving apple pie was more than its flaky crust and soft-fruit center. This American food symbolized a rite of passage, my Iraqi family’s ticket to assimilation. 

 Some argue that by adopting American customs like the apple pie, we lose our culture. I would argue that while American culture influences what my family eats and celebrates, it doesn’t define our character. In my family, we eat Iraqi dishes like mesta and tahini, but we also eat Cinnamon Toast Crunch for breakfast. This doesn’t mean we favor one culture over the other; instead, we create a beautiful blend of the two, adapting traditions to make them our own.

 That said, my family has always been more than the “mashed potatoes and turkey” type.

My mom’s family immigrated to the United States in 1976. Upon their arrival, they encountered a deeply divided America. Racism thrived, even after the significant freedoms gained from the Civil Rights Movement a few years before. Here, my family was thrust into a completely unknown world: they didn’t speak the language, they didn’t dress normally, and dinners like riza maraka seemed strange in comparison to the Pop Tarts and Oreos lining grocery store shelves.

 If I were to host a dinner party, it would be like Thanksgiving with my Chaldean family. The guests, my extended family, are a diverse people, distinct ingredients in a sweet potato casserole, coming together to create a delicious dish.

Our Thanksgiving spread accurately represents our

In her article “Cooking Stirs the Pot for Social Change,” Korsha Wilson writes, “each ingredient that we use, every technique, every spice tells a story about our access, our privilege, our heritage, and our culture.” Voices around the room will echo off the walls into the late hours of the night while the hot apple pie steams at the table’s center.

We will play concan on the blanketed floor and I’ll try to understand my Toto, who, after forty years, still speaks broken English. I’ll listen to my elders as they tell stories about growing up in Unionville, Michigan, a predominately white town where they always felt like outsiders, stories of racism that I have the privilege not to experience. While snacking on sunflower seeds and salted pistachios, we’ll talk about the news- how thousands of people across the country are protesting for justice among immigrants. No one protested to give my family a voice.

Our Thanksgiving food is more than just sustenance, it is a physical representation of my family ’s blended and ever-changing culture, even after 40 years in the United States. No matter how the food on our plates changes, it will always symbolize our sense of family—immediate and extended—and our unbreakable bond.

Grace Williams, a student at Kirkwood High School in Kirkwood, Missouri, enjoys playing tennis, baking, and spending time with her family. Grace also enjoys her time as a writing editor for her school’s yearbook, the Pioneer. In the future, Grace hopes to continue her travels abroad, as well as live near extended family along the sunny beaches of La Jolla, California.

University Winner: Lillia Borodkin

Nourishing Change After Tragedy Strikes

In the Jewish community, food is paramount. We often spend our holidays gathered around a table, sharing a meal and reveling in our people’s story. On other sacred days, we fast, focusing instead on reflection, atonement, and forgiveness.

As a child, I delighted in the comfort of matzo ball soup, the sweetness of hamantaschen, and the beauty of braided challah. But as I grew older and more knowledgeable about my faith, I learned that the origins of these foods are not rooted in joy, but in sacrifice.

The matzo of matzo balls was a necessity as the Jewish people did not have time for their bread to rise as they fled slavery in Egypt. The hamantaschen was an homage to the hat of Haman, the villain of the Purim story who plotted the Jewish people’s destruction. The unbaked portion of braided challah was tithed by commandment to the kohen or priests. Our food is an expression of our history, commemorating both our struggles and our triumphs.

As I write this, only days have passed since eleven Jews were killed at the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh. These people, intending only to pray and celebrate the Sabbath with their community, were murdered simply for being Jewish. This brutal event, in a temple and city much like my own, is a reminder that anti-Semitism still exists in this country. A reminder that hatred of Jews, of me, my family, and my community, is alive and flourishing in America today. The thought that a difference in religion would make some believe that others do not have the right to exist is frightening and sickening.  

 This is why, if given the chance, I would sit down the entire Jewish American community at one giant Shabbat table. I’d serve matzo ball soup, pass around loaves of challah, and do my best to offer comfort. We would take time to remember the beautiful souls lost to anti-Semitism this October and the countless others who have been victims of such hatred in the past. I would then ask that we channel all we are feeling—all the fear, confusion, and anger—into the fight.

As suggested in Korsha Wilson’s “Cooking Stirs the Pot for Social Change,” I would urge my guests to direct our passion for justice and the comfort and care provided by the food we are eating into resisting anti-Semitism and hatred of all kinds.

We must use the courage this sustenance provides to create change and honor our people’s suffering and strength. We must remind our neighbors, both Jewish and non-Jewish, that anti-Semitism is alive and well today. We must shout and scream and vote until our elected leaders take this threat to our community seriously. And, we must stand with, support, and listen to other communities that are subjected to vengeful hate today in the same way that many of these groups have supported us in the wake of this tragedy.

This terrible shooting is not the first of its kind, and if conflict and loathing are permitted to grow, I fear it will not be the last. While political change may help, the best way to target this hate is through smaller-scale actions in our own communities.

It is critical that we as a Jewish people take time to congregate and heal together, but it is equally necessary to include those outside the Jewish community to build a powerful crusade against hatred and bigotry. While convening with these individuals, we will work to end the dangerous “otherizing” that plagues our society and seek to understand that we share far more in common than we thought. As disagreements arise during our discussions, we will learn to respect and treat each other with the fairness we each desire. Together, we shall share the comfort, strength, and courage that traditional Jewish foods provide and use them to fuel our revolution. 

We are not alone in the fight despite what extremists and anti-semites might like us to believe. So, like any Jew would do, I invite you to join me at the Shabbat table. First, we will eat. Then, we will get to work. 

Lillia Borodkin is a senior at Kent State University majoring in Psychology with a concentration in Child Psychology. She plans to attend graduate school and become a school psychologist while continuing to pursue her passion for reading and writing. Outside of class, Lillia is involved in research in the psychology department and volunteers at the Women’s Center on campus.   

Powerful Voice Winner: Paisley Regester

Last Meal

As a kid, I remember asking my friends jokingly, ”If you were stuck on a deserted island, what single item of food would you bring?” Some of my friends answered practically and said they’d bring water. Others answered comically and said they’d bring snacks like Flamin’ Hot Cheetos or a banana. However, most of my friends answered sentimentally and listed the foods that made them happy. This seems like fun and games, but what happens if the hypothetical changes? Imagine being asked, on the eve of your death, to choose the final meal you will ever eat. What food would you pick? Something practical? Comical? Sentimental?  

This situation is the reality for the 2,747 American prisoners who are currently awaiting execution on death row. The grim ritual of “last meals,” when prisoners choose their final meal before execution, can reveal a lot about these individuals and what they valued throughout their lives.

It is difficult for us to imagine someone eating steak, lobster tail, apple pie, and vanilla ice cream one moment and being killed by state-approved lethal injection the next. The prisoner can only hope that the apple pie he requested tastes as good as his mom’s. Surprisingly, many people in prison decline the option to request a special last meal. We often think of food as something that keeps us alive, so is there really any point to eating if someone knows they are going to die?

“Controlling food is a means of controlling power,” said chef Sean Sherman in the YES! Magazine article “Cooking Stirs the Pot for Social Change,” by Korsha Wilson. There are deeper stories that lie behind the final meals of individuals on death row.

I want to bring awareness to the complex and often controversial conditions of this country’s criminal justice system and change the common perception of prisoners as inhuman. To accomplish this, I would host a potluck where I would recreate the last meals of prisoners sentenced to death.

In front of each plate, there would be a place card with the prisoner’s full name, the date of execution, and the method of execution. These meals could range from a plate of fried chicken, peas with butter, apple pie, and a Dr. Pepper, reminiscent of a Sunday dinner at Grandma’s, to a single olive.

Seeing these meals up close, meals that many may eat at their own table or feed to their own kids, would force attendees to face the reality of the death penalty. It will urge my guests to look at these individuals not just as prisoners, assigned a number and a death date, but as people, capable of love and rehabilitation.  

This potluck is not only about realizing a prisoner’s humanity, but it is also about recognizing a flawed criminal justice system. Over the years, I have become skeptical of the American judicial system, especially when only seven states have judges who ethnically represent the people they serve. I was shocked when I found out that the officers who killed Michael Brown and Anthony Lamar Smith were exonerated for their actions. How could that be possible when so many teens and adults of color have spent years in prison, some even executed, for crimes they never committed?  

Lawmakers, police officers, city officials, and young constituents, along with former prisoners and their families, would be invited to my potluck to start an honest conversation about the role and application of inequality, dehumanization, and racism in the death penalty. Food served at the potluck would represent the humanity of prisoners and push people to acknowledge that many inmates are victims of a racist and corrupt judicial system.

Recognizing these injustices is only the first step towards a more equitable society. The second step would be acting on these injustices to ensure that every voice is heard, even ones separated from us by prison walls. Let’s leave that for the next potluck, where I plan to serve humble pie.

Paisley Regester is a high school senior and devotes her life to activism, the arts, and adventure. Inspired by her experiences traveling abroad to Nicaragua, Mexico, and Scotland, Paisley hopes to someday write about the diverse people and places she has encountered and share her stories with the rest of the world.

Powerful Voice Winner: Emma Lingo

The Empty Seat

“If you aren’t sober, then I don’t want to see you on Christmas.”

Harsh words for my father to hear from his daughter but words he needed to hear. Words I needed him to understand and words he seemed to consider as he fiddled with his wine glass at the head of the table. Our guests, my grandma, and her neighbors remained resolutely silent. They were not about to defend my drunken father–or Charles as I call him–from my anger or my ultimatum.

This was the first dinner we had had together in a year. The last meal we shared ended with Charles slopping his drink all over my birthday presents and my mother explaining heroin addiction to me. So, I wasn’t surprised when Charles threw down some liquid valor before dinner in anticipation of my anger. If he wanted to be welcomed on Christmas, he needed to be sober—or he needed to be gone.

Countless dinners, holidays, and birthdays taught me that my demands for sobriety would fall on deaf ears. But not this time. Charles gave me a gift—a one of a kind, limited edition, absolutely awkward treat. One that I didn’t know how to deal with at all. Charles went home that night, smacked a bright red bow on my father, and hand-delivered him to me on Christmas morning.

He arrived for breakfast freshly showered and looking flustered. He would remember this day for once only because his daughter had scolded him into sobriety. Dad teetered between happiness and shame. Grandma distracted us from Dad’s presence by bringing the piping hot bacon and biscuits from the kitchen to the table, theatrically announcing their arrival. Although these foods were the alleged focus of the meal, the real spotlight shined on the unopened liquor cabinet in my grandma’s kitchen—the cabinet I know Charles was begging Dad to open.

I’ve isolated myself from Charles. My family has too. It means we don’t see Dad, but it’s the best way to avoid confrontation and heartache. Sometimes I find myself wondering what it would be like if we talked with him more or if he still lived nearby. Would he be less inclined to use? If all families with an addict tried to hang on to a relationship with the user, would there be fewer addicts in the world? Christmas breakfast with Dad was followed by Charles whisking him away to Colorado where pot had just been legalized. I haven’t talked to Dad since that Christmas.

As Korsha Wilson stated in her YES! Magazine article, “Cooking Stirs the Pot for Social Change,” “Sometimes what we don’t cook says more than what we do cook.” When it comes to addiction, what isn’t served is more important than what is. In quiet moments, I like to imagine a meal with my family–including Dad. He’d have a spot at the table in my little fantasy. No alcohol would push him out of his chair, the cigarettes would remain seated in his back pocket, and the stench of weed wouldn’t invade the dining room. Fruit salad and gumbo would fill the table—foods that Dad likes. We’d talk about trivial matters in life, like how school is going and what we watched last night on TV.

Dad would feel loved. We would connect. He would feel less alone. At the end of the night, he’d walk me to the door and promise to see me again soon. And I would believe him.

Emma Lingo spends her time working as an editor for her school paper, reading, and being vocal about social justice issues. Emma is active with many clubs such as Youth and Government, KHS Cares, and Peer Helpers. She hopes to be a journalist one day and to be able to continue helping out people by volunteering at local nonprofits.

Powerful Voice Winner: Hayden Wilson

Bittersweet Reunion

I close my eyes and envision a dinner of my wildest dreams. I would invite all of my relatives. Not just my sister who doesn’t ask how I am anymore. Not just my nephews who I’m told are too young to understand me. No, I would gather all of my aunts, uncles, and cousins to introduce them to the me they haven’t met.

For almost two years, I’ve gone by a different name that most of my family refuses to acknowledge. My aunt, a nun of 40 years, told me at a recent birthday dinner that she’d heard of my “nickname.” I didn’t want to start a fight, so I decided not to correct her. Even the ones who’ve adjusted to my name have yet to recognize the bigger issue.

Last year on Facebook, I announced to my friends and family that I am transgender. No one in my family has talked to me about it, but they have plenty to say to my parents. I feel as if this is about my parents more than me—that they’ve made some big parenting mistake. Maybe if I invited everyone to dinner and opened up a discussion, they would voice their concerns to me instead of my parents.

I would serve two different meals of comfort food to remind my family of our good times. For my dad’s family, I would cook heavily salted breakfast food, the kind my grandpa used to enjoy. He took all of his kids to IHOP every Sunday and ordered the least healthy option he could find, usually some combination of an overcooked omelet and a loaded Classic Burger. For my mom’s family, I would buy shakes and burgers from Hardee’s. In my grandma’s final weeks, she let aluminum tins of sympathy meals pile up on her dining table while she made my uncle take her to Hardee’s every day.

In her article on cooking and activism, food writer Korsha Wilson writes, “Everyone puts down their guard over a good meal, and in that space, change is possible.” Hopefully the same will apply to my guests.

When I first thought of this idea, my mind rushed to the endless negative possibilities. My nun-aunt and my two non-nun aunts who live like nuns would whip out their Bibles before I even finished my first sentence. My very liberal, state representative cousin would say how proud she is of the guy I’m becoming, but this would trigger my aunts to accuse her of corrupting my mind. My sister, who has never spoken to me about my genderidentity, would cover her children’s ears and rush them out of the house. My Great-Depression-raised grandparents would roll over in their graves, mumbling about how kids have it easy nowadays.

After mentally mapping out every imaginable terrible outcome this dinner could have, I realized a conversation is unavoidable if I want my family to accept who I am. I long to restore the deep connection I used to have with them. Though I often think these former relationships are out of reach, I won’t know until I try to repair them. For a year and a half, I’ve relied on Facebook and my parents to relay messages about my identity, but I need to tell my own story.

At first, I thought Korsha Wilson’s idea of a cooked meal leading the way to social change was too optimistic, but now I understand that I need to think more like her. Maybe, just maybe, my family could all gather around a table, enjoy some overpriced shakes, and be as close as we were when I was a little girl.

 Hayden Wilson is a 17-year-old high school junior from Missouri. He loves writing, making music, and painting. He’s a part of his school’s writing club, as well as the GSA and a few service clubs.

 Literary Gems

We received many outstanding essays for the Fall 2018 Writing Competition. Though not every participant can win the contest, we’d like to share some excerpts that caught our eye.

Thinking of the main staple of the dish—potatoes, the starchy vegetable that provides sustenance for people around the globe. The onion, the layers of sorrow and joy—a base for this dish served during the holidays.  The oil, symbolic of hope and perseverance. All of these elements come together to form this delicious oval pancake permeating with possibilities. I wonder about future possibilities as I flip the latkes.

—Nikki Markman, University of San Francisco, San Francisco, California

The egg is a treasure. It is a fragile heart of gold that once broken, flows over the blemishless surface of the egg white in dandelion colored streams, like ribbon unraveling from its spool.

—Kaylin Ku, West Windsor-Plainsboro High School South, Princeton Junction, New Jersey

If I were to bring one food to a potluck to create social change by addressing anti-Semitism, I would bring gefilte fish because it is different from other fish, just like the Jews are different from other people.  It looks more like a matzo ball than fish, smells extraordinarily fishy, and tastes like sweet brine with the consistency of a crab cake.

—Noah Glassman, Ethical Culture Fieldston School,  Bronx, New York

I would not only be serving them something to digest, I would serve them a one-of-a-kind taste of the past, a taste of fear that is felt in the souls of those whose home and land were taken away, a taste of ancestral power that still lives upon us, and a taste of the voices that want to be heard and that want the suffering of the Natives to end.

—Citlalic Anima Guevara, Wichita North High School, Wichita, Kansas

It’s the one thing that your parents make sure you have because they didn’t.  Food is what your mother gives you as she lies, telling you she already ate. It’s something not everybody is fortunate to have and it’s also what we throw away without hesitation.  Food is a blessing to me, but what is it to you?

—Mohamed Omar, Kirkwood High School, Kirkwood, Missouri

Filleted and fried humphead wrasse, mangrove crab with coconut milk, pounded taro, a whole roast pig, and caramelized nuts—cuisines that will not be simplified to just “food.” Because what we eat is the diligence and pride of our people—a culture that has survived and continues to thrive.

—Mayumi Remengesau, University of San Francisco, San Francisco, California

Some people automatically think I’m kosher or ask me to say prayers in Hebrew.  However, guess what? I don’t know many prayers and I eat bacon.

—Hannah Reing, Ethical Culture Fieldston School, The Bronx, New York

Everything was placed before me. Rolling up my sleeves I started cracking eggs, mixing flour, and sampling some chocolate chips, because you can never be too sure. Three separate bowls. All different sizes. Carefully, I tipped the smallest, and the medium-sized bowls into the biggest. Next, I plugged in my hand-held mixer and flicked on the switch. The beaters whirl to life. I lowered it into the bowl and witnessed the creation of something magnificent. Cookie dough.

—Cassandra Amaya, Owen Goodnight Middle School, San Marcos, Texas

Biscuits and bisexuality are both things that are in my life…My grandmother’s biscuits are the best: the good old classic Southern biscuits, crunchy on the outside, fluffy on the inside. Except it is mostly Southern people who don’t accept me.

—Jaden Huckaby, Arbor Montessori, Decatur, Georgia

We zest the bright yellow lemons and the peels of flavor fall lightly into the batter.  To make frosting, we keep adding more and more powdered sugar until it looks like fluffy clouds with raspberry seed rain.

—Jane Minus, Ethical Culture Fieldston School, Bronx, New York

Tamales for my grandma, I can still remember her skillfully spreading the perfect layer of masa on every corn husk, looking at me pitifully as my young hands fumbled with the corn wrapper, always too thick or too thin.

—Brenna Eliaz, San Marcos High School, San Marcos, Texas

Just like fry bread, MRE’s (Meals Ready to Eat) remind New Orleanians and others affected by disasters of the devastation throughout our city and the little amount of help we got afterward.

—Madeline Johnson, Spring Hill College, Mobile, Alabama

I would bring cream corn and buckeyes and have a big debate on whether marijuana should be illegal or not.

—Lillian Martinez, Miller Middle School, San Marcos, Texas

We would finish the meal off with a delicious apple strudel, topped with schlag, schlag, schlag, more schlag, and a cherry, and finally…more schlag (in case you were wondering, schlag is like whipped cream, but 10 times better because it is heavier and sweeter).

—Morgan Sheehan, Ethical Culture Fieldston School, Bronx, New York

Clever Titles

This year we decided to do something different. We were so impressed by the number of catchy titles that we decided to feature some of our favorites. 

“Eat Like a Baby: Why Shame Has No Place at a Baby’s Dinner Plate”

—Tate Miller, Wichita North High School, Wichita, Kansas 

“The Cheese in Between”

—Jedd Horowitz, Ethical Culture Fieldston School, Bronx, New York

“Harvey, Michael, Florence or Katrina? Invite Them All Because Now We Are Prepared”

—Molly Mendoza, Spring Hill College, Mobile, Alabama

“Neglecting Our Children: From Broccoli to Bullets”

—Kylie Rollings, Kirkwood High School, Kirkwood, Missouri  

“The Lasagna of Life”

—Max Williams, Wichita North High School, Wichita, Kansas

“Yum, Yum, Carbon Dioxide In Our Lungs”

—Melanie Eickmeyer, Kirkwood High School, Kirkwood, Missouri

“My Potluck, My Choice”

—Francesca Grossberg, Ethical Culture Fieldston School, Bronx, New York

“Trumping with Tacos”

—Maya Goncalves, Lincoln Middle School, Ypsilanti, Michigan

“Quiche and Climate Change”

—Bernie Waldman, Ethical Culture Fieldston School, Bronx, New York

“Biscuits and Bisexuality”

—Jaden Huckaby, Arbor Montessori, Decatur, Georgia

“W(health)”

—Miles Oshan, San Marcos High School, San Marcos, Texas

“Bubula, Come Eat!”

—Jordan Fienberg, Ethical Culture Fieldston School,  Bronx, New York

The YES! National Student Writing Competition is an opportunity for middle school through university students to write for a real audience—not just you, the teacher—and the chance to be published by an award-winning magazine.

Each quarter, students are invited to read and write an essay on a selected YES! Magazine article. We divide contestants into four categories: middle school, high school, university, and Powerful Voice (for authors whose essays are especially powerful and passionate). Winning essays in each category are published on the YES! Magazine website and in our online education newsletter, reaching thousands of YES! readers, including more than 11,000 teachers. One winning essay per contest is chosen by YES! editors to be published in our quarterly print magazine.

For the winter 2019 contest, we’re trying something different. Instead of one writing prompt, students will have two to choose from. Contest requirements remain the same—you send in your three best essays per class and we choose one set of middle school, high school, university and Powerful Voice winners. There will not be separate winners chosen for each writing prompt.

Register here by December 7. Essays are due by Jan. 25.

Click here for general information about the writing competition.

Read recent featured essays here.

Border (In)Security

This winter, students will read and respond to the YES! Magazine article “Two-Thirds of Americans Live in the “Constitution-Free Zone” by Lornet Turnbull.

In this story, journalist Lornet Turnbull examines the spate of Greyhound bus raids that have exposed an obscure law that gives U.S. border officials the authority to board and search any vehicle without a warrant and ask occupants to prove their legal status in this country. Searches are not limited to the border, but extend 100 miles into the interior and across the entire perimeter of the country—where two-thirds of the U.S. population lives. Immigrant advocacy groups have warned people of racial profiling and civil rights violations.

The Writing Prompts:

Students, please respond to one of the writing prompts below with an up-to-700-word essay:

1. When border officials board Greyhound buses, they sometimes target individuals they believe are undocumented based on an accent or even what the person is wearing. 

Write about a time when someone made an unfair assumption about you. What was the impact on you? How did you respond, and what did you learn from the experience?

2. Since 1953, U.S. border officials have had the authority to stop and search any vehicle, like a Greyhound bus, without a warrant, not only at ports of entry but within 100 miles of any U.S. external boundary if there is suspicion of wrongdoing. They can also ask occupants to prove their legal status in this country. 

Describe your position on the Constitution-free zone. Do you think that this is an effective and justifiable means to make the country more “secure”? How should we decide who is welcome in the U.S. and who is not?

Who is eligible?

You must be a classroom teacher—homeschool cooperatives, resource centers, supervised writing groups, and schools outside the U.S. included—for your students to participate. We cannot accept essays or registrations independently sent by students. Student writers should be in grades 6-8 (middle school), grades 9-12 (high school), college/university, or adult continuing education.

Common Core State Standards

This writing competition meets several Common Core State Standards for grades 6-12, including W.9-10.3 and W.9-10.4 for Writing, and RI.9-10.1 and RI.9-10.2 for Reading: Informational Text *
*This standard applies to other grade levels. “9-10” is used as an example.

What are the essay requirements?

• • Respond to the article and one of the writing prompts provided by YES!

• • Provide an original essay title

• • Reference the article in the essay

• • No more than 700 words

• • Must be original, unpublished words

In addition, we are evaluating essays for:

• • Grammar

• • Organization

• • Strong style and personal voice. We encourage writers to include personal examples and insights.

• • Originality and clarity of content and ideas

How do I submit the essays?

• • You must be registered for the competition by December 7, 2018.

• • E-mail your student essays as word-processed document attachments (please no pdf or scanned documents) or as an open-access Google Doc to writingcompetition@yesmagazine.org no later than January 25, 2019. Please do not send essays to jfong@yesmagazine.org

• • You may submit up to three essays per class. Example: If you are submitting essays for two classes, you may send up to a total of six essays—but they must be up to three essays per class, not four essays for one class and two from the other. Even though we have two prompts, you still must limit yourself to three essays per class. Separate winners will not be chosen for each writing prompt. 

• • Include a scanned, completed student release form with each submitted essay. Please make sure student email addresses are legible and visible. NOTE: Please submit all student essays by January 25th, even if there are missing release forms. You may send completed students releases as soon as you receive them.

• • Winners will be announced on March 14, 2019.

Contest Forms:

Registration Form
Student Release Form
Evaluation Rubric

Future Contests

*Spring 2019
Details announced: Feb. 7
Registration due: Feb. 27
Essays due: April 9
Winners announced: May 23

Questions? Please email writingcompetition@yesmagazine.org

Thank you for joining us!

Access to shelter is necessary for survival, yet, in the United States, not everyone can afford this basic human right. More individuals and families are being pushed out of their homes—and out of their communities—because of high rents, stagnant wages, and a shortage of available affordable housing. This country is experiencing a housing crisis.

A shrinking pool of aid exists for those who are forced to leave their homes or in need of permanent housing—typically low-income people and people of color.

In this “Let’s Talk About” collection, we urge students to dive deep into the issues of affordable housing, gentrification, and homelessness, as well as explore the innovative ways individuals are fighting back. These topics will push students to think about their own communities and how identities like race and class influence where someone is allowed to live. 

You and your students can learn more about innovative affordable housing solutions that communities are coming up with across the country in The Affordable Housing Issue.

How to Use This Collection

Suggested below are steps to a thoughtful and meaningful discussion with your students about gentrification and affordable housing. Choose what is appropriate for your class.

1. Students complete a pre-survey  (optional).

2. Choose at least one YES! article and one outside article for a robust compare and contrast.

3. Use the discussion questions—or craft your own—to gauge your students’ understanding and opinions.

4. Students complete a post-survey  (optional).

5. Explore curriculum if you’d like to dive deeper.

Reading Materials

YES! Articles

Infographic: Why Normal People Can’t Afford a House

5 Ways Communities are Creating Affordable Housing  

How to Protect a Renter Nation

Comic: The Upside of Crowded Living

How the Ultrarich Can Help Fix the Affordable Housing Crisis

Outside Resources

Federal court says cities can’t ban sleeping on the street. What’s it mean for Bellingham? (The Seattle Times/Bellingham Herald)

Nearly 4 People Are Evicted Every Minute: New Project Tracks U.S. Eviction Epidemic & Effects (Democracy Now)

Building Justice: NYC’s Sacrifice Zones and the Environmental Legacy of Racial Injustice (CityLimits.org)

How To Know If Your Neighborhood Is Being Gentrified (Forbes)

Discussion Questions

1. Imagine you could move. What would be the features of your dream house or apartment? What would the neighborhood be like? How would it be different (or not) from where you live now? Could your family afford to move?

2. If you are a person displaced by gentrification, it’s easy to see its negative consequences, but what about the positive sides? Describe what you think are both the negative and positive effects of gentrification, especially for people of color and youth. What are meaningful investments or improvements that mutually benefit current and future residents?

3. There are many factors surrounding homelessness, but the main reason people experience homelessness is because they can’t find affordable housing. How are people who are homeless treated in your community? What level of responsibility does society have for the homeless, and what can communities like yours do to alleviate homelessness?

Curriculum

Lessons About Housing Issues In the U.S. and Around the World (Habitat for Humanity)

Whose Community Is This? Mathematics of Neighborhood Displacement (Rethinking Schools)

The next Supreme Court appointment hangs in the balance as an FBI investigation and deliberations surrounding sexual assault allegations against Judge Brett Kavanaugh continue to unfold.  

While some doubt the validity of Dr. Christine Blasey Ford’s accusations and push for Judge Kavanaugh’s appointment, others assert that Kavanaugh’s alleged predatory actions, dishonesty, and inflammatory comportment make him unfit to serve on the highest court.

Our newest “Let’s Talk About” collection addresses the Brett Kavanaugh controversy and focuses on what his potential appointment means to the Supreme Court—and the American people. This topic encourages students to think critically about sexual assault and accountability (even their own) and reflect on what kind of leader should hold one of the most prestigious and influential positions in the country.

How to Use This Collection

Suggested below are steps to a thoughtful and meaningful discussion with your students about school shootings. Choose what is appropriate for your class.

1. Students complete a pre-survey  (optional).

2. Choose at least one YES! article and one outside article for a robust compare and contrast.

3. Use the discussion questions—or craft your own—to gauge your students’ understanding and opinions.

4. Students complete a post-survey  (optional).

Reading Materials

YES! Articles

Does #MeToo Have the Power to Take Down a Supreme Court Nominee?

Men, We Can Do Better

Why the Founding Fathers Gave Too Much Power to the Supreme Court

Outside Resources

Brett Kavanaugh and the Sexist Double Standard of Being Held Accountable For Your Actions

An Unjudicious Man, Unfit for the Supreme Court

Don’t Let #MeToo Turn into #MeCarthyism

Discussion Questions

1. Describe what you believe are the essential characteristics of a Supreme Court justice. Do you think Judge Kavanaugh is the best choice for this appointment?

2. Some people feel that Judge Kavanaugh should not be held responsible for something he may have done as a teenager. Thirty-six years from now, should you be accountable for any transgressions you commit today? Is everyone—regardless of gender, race, and socio-economic class— held to the same level of accountability for their actions? Who tends to get a free pass or more lenient judgment?

3. Some people criticize Dr. Christine Blasey Ford for waiting so long to make her allegations against Judge Kavanaugh public. What do you think about Dr. Ford’s decision to speak up about her experience of sexual assault thirty years later —is it ever too late to speak up? How did Dr. Ford’s testimony affect sexual assault survivors?

Though rates of suicide, depression, and anxiety continue to be on the upswing, there remains a stigma surrounding mental health, mental illness, and the root causes of psychiatric distress. Without avenues for expression or conversation, many people suffer in silence, failing to receive the support and tools they need to live healthy and satisfying lives.

This “Let’s Talk About” is on mental health, and features articles from “The Mental Health Issue” of YES! Magazine (Fall 2018). Talking about mental health is an essential first step to help your students understand that they are not alone—that other people feel this too—and there are genuine ways to support themselves, their family and friends, and other people in their community. With openness and courage, it will get better.

How to Use This Collection

Suggested below are steps to a thoughtful and meaningful discussion with your students about school shootings. Choose what is appropriate for your class.

1. Students complete a pre-survey  (optional).

2. Choose at least one YES! article and one outside article for a robust compare and contrast.

3. Use the discussion questions—or craft your own—to gauge your students’ understanding and opinions.

4. Students complete a post-survey  (optional).

5. Explore curriculum if you’d like to dive deeper.

Reading Materials

YES! Articles

5 Fake Facts About Mental Health Stigma

The College Mental Health Crisis in 10 Sketches

What is Barbershop Therapy?

I Stopped Playing the Strong Black Woman

BONUS: The Surprising Link Between Your Mental  Health and Everyone Else’s*

*This is a longer article that addresses why anxiety and depression are on the rise.

Outside Resources

Fewer Teens Die By Suicide When Same-Sex Marriage Is Legal (Forbes)

“Insane”: America’s 3 Largest Psychiatric Facilities Are Jails (NPR)

“The Nutritionist” by Andrea Gibson (Button Poetry, YouTube)*

*NOTE: This poem on emotional pain and resilience may be intense for listeners. Here is the transcript.

Discussion Questions

1. Why do you think that many people are silent when it comes to expressing their mental health issues? Describe how this relates specifically to young people. What are ways that we can break the stigma around asking for help? How can we create safe spaces to talk about mental health and better support you and your peers?

2. Sometimes poor mental health is a result of biology, but sometimes it is impacted by external factors. How do systems of oppression affect mental health? Think about racism, sexism, homophobia, misogyny and more. How do you see these outside influences affecting the well-being of your community, your school, your family, your friends or yourself?

3. What are some self-care practices you use to live well, cope with challenges, or overcome difficulties? Describe other tools and supports you would like to try to be a healthy and content person.

Curriculum

5 Strategies for Promoting High Schoolers’ Mental Well-Being (Edutopia)

Speaking to Your Teen About Suicide (Psychology Today)

The YES! National Student Writing Competition is an opportunity for middle school through university students to write for a real audience—not just you, the teacher—and the chance to be published by an award-winning magazine.

Each quarter, students are invited to read and write an essay on a selected YES! Magazine article. We divide contestants into four categories: middle school, high school, university, and Powerful Voice (for authors whose essays are especially powerful and passionate). Winning essays in each category are published on the YES! Magazine website and in our online education newsletter, reaching thousands of YES! readers, including over 11,000 teachers. One winning essay per contest is chosen by YES! editors to be published in our quarterly print magazine.

Register here.

Click here for general information about the writing competition.

Read recent featured essays here.

Feeding Ourselves, Feeding Our Revolutions

This fall, students will read and respond to the YES! Magazine article, “Cooking Stirs the Pot for Social Change,”  by Korsha Wilson.

In this article, Wilson explores the power of food to spark change in our communities. The author believes that cooking and consumption are not just necessary for survival; they are also political acts of resistance against oppression, means to preserve heritage, and ways for change-makers to practice self-care.

The Writing Prompt

Multiple activists in this article discuss cooking and consuming food as an act of both resistance and self-care. Oglala Lakota chef Sean Sherman will not make fry bread because it’s an edible reminder of the injustices of colonialism. For Shakirah Simley, eating together not only gives her and her fellow activists the nourishment to resist, but also allows them to talk about difficult issues and grow their activism.

Students, please respond to the writing prompt below with an up-to-700-word essay:
If you were to host a potluck or dinner to discuss a challenge facing your community or country, what food would you cook? Who would you invite? On what issue would you deliberate?

Who is eligible?

You must be a classroom teacher—homeschool cooperatives, resource centers, supervised writing groups, and schools outside the U.S. included—for your students to participate. We cannot accept essays or registrations independently sent by students. Student writers should be in grades 6-8 (middle school), grades 9-12 (high school), college/university, or adult continuing education.

Common Core State Standards

This writing competition meets several Common Core State Standards for grades 6-12, including W.9-10.3 and W.9-10.4 for Writing, and RI.9-10.1 and RI.9-10.2 for Reading: Informational Text *

*This standard applies to other grade levels. “9-10” is used as an example.

What are the essay requirements?

• • Respond to the article and writing prompt provided by YES!

• • Provide an original essay title

• • Reference the article in the essay

• • No more than 700 words

• • Must be original, unpublished words

In addition, we are evaluating essays for:

• • Grammar

• • Organization

• • Strong style and personal voice. We encourage writers to include personal examples and insights.

• • Originality and clarity of content and ideas

How do I submit the essays?

• • You must be registered for the competition by September 28, 2018.

• • E-mail your student essays as word-processed document attachments (please no pdf or scanned documents) or as an open-access Google Doc to writingcompetition@yesmagazine.org no later than November 2, 2018. Please do not send essays to jfong@yesmagazine.org

• • You may submit up to three essays per class. Example: If you are submitting essays for two classes, you may send up to a total of six essays—but they must be up to three essays per class, not four essays for one class and two from the other.

• • Include a scanned, completed student release form with each submitted essay. Please make sure student email addresses are legible and visible. NOTE: Please submit all student essays by November 2, even if there are missing release forms. You may send completed students releases as soon as you receive them.

• • Winners will be announced on December 20.

Contest Forms:

Registration Form
Student Release Form
Evaluation Rubric

Future Contests

*Winter 2019

Details announced: Nov. 14

Registration due: Dec. 7

Essays due: Jan. 25

Winners announced: March 14

*Spring 2019

Details announced: Feb. 7

Registration due: Feb. 27

Essays due: April 9

Winners announced: May 23

Questions? Please email writingcompetition@yesmagazine.org

Thank you for joining us!

Students will read and respond to Aura Bogado’s article, “Love Letters to the Resistance.”

The book is comprised of letters written by 30 novelists, poets, and activists who seek hope and guidance from people who hold importance in their lives—elders, grandparents, activists, future children, even strangers.

Download lesson as a PDF.

YES! Magazine Article and Writing Prompt

Read the YES! Magazine article by Aura Bogado, “Love Letters to the Resistance.“

Writing Prompt:

Think about what matters most to you about our country’s future. Write a letter to someone important to you, describing that future you imagine and hope for.

Writing Guidelines

The writing guidelines below are intended to be just that—a guide. Please adapt to fit your curriculum.

· Provide an original essay title

· Reference the article

· Limit the essay to no more than 700 words

· Pay attention to grammar and organization

· Be original. provide personal examples and insights

· Demonstrate clarity of content and ideas

· This writing exercise meets several Common Core State Standards for grades 6-12, including W. 9-10.3 and W. 9-10.14 for Writing, and RI. 9-10 and RI. 9-10.2 for Reading: Informational Text.*

*This standard applies to other grade levels. “9-10” is used as an example.

Evaluation Rubric

Sample Essays

The essays below were selected as winners for the Spring 2018 Student Writing Competition. Please use them as sample essays or mentor text. The ideas, structure, and writing style of these essays may provide inspiration for your own students’ writing—and an excellent platform for analysis and discussion.

Dear Emma González by Lucy Shuler-Morgan, grade 6.  Read Lucy’s letter to Emma González, activist and survivor of the Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School shooting, about how González inspires countless kids like her who sometimes feel they are too young to make a difference in the world.

Dear Mary Magdalene by Charlotte Wagner, grade 10.  Read Charlotte’s letter to Mary Magdalene about how she’s working to make sure the stories and struggles of women like her will be truthfully told and recognized.

The Righteous Path of María the Sage by Malena Vargas Sáez, grade 11. Read Malena’s letter to her grandmother that seeks to harness her strength and resilience in order to overcome today’s corrupt and turbulent times.

The Paradox of Support by Carly Nelson, university senior. Read Carly’s letter to her friend Peach about the paradox of support systems and finding hope from those who share struggles of being disabled and fighting bureaucracy.

We Want to Hear From You!

How do you see this lesson fitting in your curriculum? Already tried it? Tell us—and other teachers—how the lesson worked for you and your students.

Please leave your comments below, including what grade you teach.

Announcements

Details for our fall writing contest, “Honoring Your Roots,” will be announced on Sept. 4.

See our 2019-20 writing contest calendar below.

A meaningful writing opportunity

The YES! National Student Writing Competition isn’t just a contest. It’s a meaningful writing opportunity for middle school through university students to read with purpose, write with passion, and reflect with courage and honesty.

For each contest, students read and write an essay on a selected YES! Magazine article. Provocative writing prompts push students to a deeper questioning of the article’s content and their personal experiences and opinions.

Contests are offered for fall, winter, and spring quarters. We divide contestants into four categories: middle school (grades 6-8), high school (grades 9-12), university, and Powerful Voice (for authors whose essays are powerful and passionate). 

Sign up to receive updates on the YES! Student Writing Contest and resources for teaching social justice. 

Read recently featured essays here.

 Who is eligible?

•  You must be a classroom teacher—homeschool cooperatives, resource centers, supervised writing groups, and schools outside the U.S. included—for your students to participate.
• We cannot accept essays or registrations independently sent by students. 
• Student writers should be in grades 6-8 (middle school), grades 9-12 (high school), college/university, or adult continuing education.

Does this meet Common Core State Standards?

This writing competition meets several Common Core State Standards for grades 6-12, including W.9-10.3 and W.9-10.4 for Writing, and RI.9-10.1 and RI.9-10.2 for Reading: Informational Text *

*This standard applies to other grade levels. “9-10” is used as an example.

What are the essay requirements?

• Respond to the article and writing prompt provided by YES!
• Provide an original essay title
• Reference the article
• 600 or fewer words
• Must be original, unpublished work

In addition, we evaluate essays for:

• Grammar
•  Organization
• Strong style and personal voice. We encourage writers to include personal examples and insights.
• Originality and clarity of content and ideas

How do I submit essays?

• You must register for the competition by the announced deadline.
• You may submit up to three essays per class.  
• A completed student release form must accompany each essay. 

Are there prizes?

• Winning essays in each category are published on the YES! Media website and in our online education newsletter, reaching thousands of YES! readers, including over 11,000 teachers.
• One winning essay per contest is chosen by YES! editors to be published in our quarterly print magazine.
• Regardless of whether the essay is selected a winning essay, we respond to all student writers with a personal note.
• Teachers who participate in a fall, winter, or spring contest receive one free year of YES!. One lucky participating teacher will be randomly selected to win free YES! swag, too.

What are the dates for the 2019-20 writing contests?

Fall 2019
Details announced: Sept. 4
Registration due: Sept. 27
Essays due: Nov. 1
Winners announced: Dec. 20

Winter 2020
Details announced: Nov. 14
Registration due: Dec. 6
Essays due: Jan. 29
Winners announced: March 13

Spring 2020
Details announced: Feb. 7
Registration due: Feb. 28
Essays due: April 15
Winners announced: May 22

*Dates subject to change. Please consult website or email for calendar updates.

Sign up to receive writing contest notifications, plus social and climate justice resources, tough topics discussion guides, and student writing lessons. 

Even better, apply for a free year of YES!  and you’ll get magazines and an e-newsletter, including writing contest announcements.

Questions? Please email writingcompetition@yesmagazine.org

Lucy Shuler-Morgan, a sixth-grade student of Rachael Pierce at Washington Elementary in Omaha, Nebraska, read and responded to the online YES! Magazine article, “Love Letters to the Resistance,” by Aura Bogado

Writing Prompt: 

Think about what matters most to you about our country’s future. Write a letter to someone important to you, describing that future you imagine and hope for.

Emma González

5901 NW Pine Island Road,

Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School

Parkland, FL 33076

Dear Emma,

My name is Lucy Shuler-Morgan. I am a sixth grader from Washington Elementary in Omaha, Nebraska. I am writing you today because I want you to know what an inspiration you are to not only me but also to all of us kids who sometimes feel like we are too young to make a difference in the world. 

It is unbelievable that we have to deal with gun violence in this country, while our peers in other parts of the world don’t have this problem. That is because their countries have common sense gun control. I can’t even imagine what it would be like to experience what you and your friends have had to face.

If those 17 kids could come back for even just a few minutes, they wouldn’t complain about that math test next period. They wouldn’t complain about their parents’ cooking. They wouldn’t think that they weren’t good enough or pretty enough, and they wouldn’t dwell on their flaws. They wouldn’t take anything for granted because having their lives cut short would make them appreciate the normal parts of being a kid. This has opened my eyes to how lucky I am to get to experience all the small wonders of my life: reading my little sister a bedtime story, going on walks with my dog, singing show tunes in the car with my mom, and laughing at my dad’s jokes.

You and all the other Marjory Stoneman Douglas kids who are standing up and making your voices heard on behalf of the 17 kids who can’t are so empowering. It would be understandable if you wanted to put this terrible tragedy behind you and move on with your life. Instead, you are using your pain as a path to change and that is truly amazing.

It is hard for me to understand how people in power can continue to choose money over people’s lives, especially after seeing what you and the many other survivors of mass shootings have had to go through. Even though you are getting pushback from the NRA, I hope that you know that there are countless kids who are looking up to you, finding hope from you, and cheering you on.

I hope that the next generation will never see its kids’ lives turned upside down by gun violence. Never again.

Yours in power,

Lucy Shuler-Morgan

Charlotte Wagner, a tenth-grade student of Art Sheridan at Mother McAuley Liberal Arts High School in Chicago, Illinois, read and responded to the online YES! Magazine article, “Love Letters to the Resistance,” by Aura Bogado

Writing Prompt: 

Think about what matters most to you about our country’s future. Write a letter to someone important to you, describing that future you imagine and hope for.

Dear Mary,

Even though you do not have a voice in your own story, I feel your words in me.

Truth be told, I don’t remember hearing your name before a visit to the Art Institute of Chicago. That’s when I first learned of your “reputation.” My grandma nudged me, her eyes locked on your half-naked portrait, your long red hair spilling down like a waterfall.

“She was a prostitute, you know.”

Isn’t it strange what history does to dead women? The Cleopatras, the Elizabeths, the Theodoras. There was never one mention of you being a prostitute, but due to a mix up with a couple of other biblical Marys, the notion stuck.

I suppose that was the only excuse that Renaissance painters needed to practice their female anatomy (all in the name of the Bible, of course). And while I can go on for hours and hours about the objectification and suppression of female sexuality, as well as the dehumanization of those forced into prostitution, I’ll save that discussion for another time.

Does history not remember that you were one of Jesus’s most attentive followers? That you were present at the crucifixion, the burial, and the resurrection? That you—not Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John—were the first to witness the Good News? That after the resurrection, you went off on your own to spread the message of Jesus?

Not to point fingers, but I think I know why your role was downplayed, Mary. Anyone who has taken a basic World History class knows why.

While notions of gender equality have been able to spread rapidly, in the grand scale of things our century of progress is nothing compared to eras of suppression. Most instances of female power have been squandered by the constraints of patriarchy.

You traveled every step with the disciples, but were only mentioned fourteen times. Why is it that Jesus appeared to you first, while all his other disciples fought among themselves? Not only that, but you stuck by him every step of the way, without even the slightest hesitation. As much as we Christians like to believe that the Bible was divinely inspired, it was still written by men seeking to immortalize their legacies.

Legacies that do not seem to have room for you.

How many girls have chosen the name Mary, after the Virgin instead of you?

So many things make me mad about your story, Mary. I’m sure you can’t feel anger anymore. You’re in heaven, surrounded by love and warmth and happiness. But I, my dear Mary, am not.

Things have gotten better since your time. There are now women scientists, women astronauts, and women authors, all writing their own stories for further generations to study and dissect. Things may not be perfect yet, but by your grace we’re getting there.

There is still so much history buried by time. So many women whose stories will never be told. Whose struggles will never be recognized. Whose deaths will never be remembered.

But don’t worry, I’m working on it.

So are millions of others, female and male, young and old, and everything in between. Someday, Mary, I hope that we can be as magnificent as you. But for now, you are our tower of light, guiding our hands and our work towards brighter ways.

Much love,

Charlotte

Carly Nelson, a senior student of Professor Karen Cunningham at Kent State University in Kent, Ohio, read and responded to the online YES! Magazine article, “Love Letters to the Resistance” by Aura Bogado.

Writing Prompt: Think about what matters most to you about our country’s future. Write a letter to someone important to you, describing that future you imagine and hope for.

Dear Peach,

When you first came to live with me, I naively hoped you would no longer have to fight for respect, safety, and even survival.

As a gay, autistic, non-binary person, you weathered some rough teenage years. You also escaped a number of abusive situations and survived years of physical pain and exhaustion, the source of which remains undiagnosed. Knowing how resilient you are, I thought that if I could just get you into a safe home, help you get to doctor’s appointments regularly, and apply for benefits, your life would be entirely turned around.

And yet, there are still innumerable obstacles.

For instance, the Ohio Works First program requires that you hold employment to be eligible for food stamps. Additionally, the doctor was unwilling to sign off on the form to exclude you from the work requirement until you underwent a series of tests. These tests needed to be scheduled several months in advance and would require you to get up very early in the morning, which I know would exhaust you physically and mentally. This was the first of many times your disability would stand in the way of proving that you have a disability. And it was the first of many times that the public assistance system forced us to jump through many fruitless hoops and find a way to make things work on our own.

Advocacy is more than simply stating your needs. It’s defending them in a world that seems to do everything in its power to refute them. People don’t think you need support because you were able to escape an abusive situation—never mind you would have died had you not escaped.

You may get approved for social security income at a hearing one to two years from now, but if anyone gives you money in the meantime—in any form other than a loan—they’ll count it as income and cut back the amount they give you if you’re ever approved. It seems that any time you’re able to get your needs met while waiting for the system to catch up, it’s held against you. I think of how many others like you struggle in similar ways, and I can’t help but wonder how much blood is on the hands of the systems that are supposed to keep people alive.

We are both exhausted by the constant onslaught of work it takes to get people to understand and respect what you need to be independent. It becomes easy to feel as though we will have to spend the rest of our lives trying to convince people that you have the right to be on your own.

Amazingly, those who have given us the most hope are not the people in positions of power, but people in similar situations—those who understand that the world can be horrendously difficult. These Good Samaritans have offered to lighten the load, or at least offered solidarity. In the words of our beloved Mr. Rogers, we have learned to “look for the helpers,” and we’ve found them among people whose resources are often not much more than our own.

While I wish it didn’t have to be that way, I am inspired by our ability to find what we need amidst all the chaos and difficulty. In line with negotiation theory as described by Roger Fisher and William Ury, when negotiation isn’t possible due to power imbalance, we continue to improve our best alternative to a negotiated agreement with the help of those who are willing to help us. Sometimes our best alternative involves asking for donations, pooling resources with others, or finding creative ways to meet your needs.

Like Aura Bogado said in her YES! Magazine article, “Love Letters to the Resistance,” we “don’t turn from this moment, but instead accept it and its infinite challenges.” We may never escape bureaucracy and other obstacles, from people who won’t let you use AAC or let me speak for you when you’re nonverbal to doctors who tell you “you’ll just have to learn to deal with” your pain when it’s at a level eight on a ten-point scale. Still, we will write our own deliverance and work toward systems that allow you and other multiply marginalized people to flourish. My dream is that the future will follow our example.

Love,

Carly

Malena Vargas Sáez, an eleventh-grade student of Guillermo Morejón Flores at The Episcopal Cathedral School in San Juan, Puerto Rico, read and responded to the online YES! Magazine article, “Love Letters to the Resistance” by Aura Bogado.

Writing Prompt: Think about what matters most to you about our country’s future. Write a letter to someone important to you, describing that future you imagine and hope for.

Querida María:

I have so much to thank you for. I would like to start with thanking you for your ever-growing understanding and receptivity to this changing world. I thank you for confronting all the adversities that came your way throughout your life, and for every tear you held back for your young siblings, your children, and their children. Thank you for your unbreakable will despite the crack of patriarchy’s whip. For swallowing your pride for not finishing school and for becoming a strong and loving figure for your siblings and your children at home, even if it cost you getting judged by people who would not have done the same. And I begin with all this gratitude because we, the world, are in need of individuals like you—more Marías.

Inside that cement house, nestled high up in the rural mountains in the heart of Borinquen, your parents, aware of it or not, admired President Woodrow Wilson as he signed a law in 1917 that finally made us citizens of a powerful nation. Thanks to Luis Muñoz Marín and his negotiations with the United States, you got your first good pair of shoes—shoes that would hop on rocks and cross the river on your way to the only school in town. And don’t forget that moment your tongue discovered the taste of peanut butter the first day American food was served in the school cafeteria. What an experience!

Remember how you would put all these honorable men on a pedestal, like your favorite wooden saint or porcelain Baby Jesus? But, to ponder the possibility that those political figures were corrupt, while most people could not access decent education, was terrifying! It was because of this that you forbade your children and husband, even the cousins and tíos and tías who came to visit, from ever speaking politics and religion at the dinner table, or anywhere within your hearing range. It is like putting water and a computer together—things just will not end well, you would always tell yourself.

You had given up on these lying puppets when Pedro Rosselló demanded a place on your pedestals. He was followed by four governors and his son Ricardo, our current governor, who stood at the end of the line. And to top it off, Mr. Donal Trom, a magnet for controversy, walked right through the door, demanding a pedestal of his own.

And María, your waking up at 4 a.m. just to make sure the house was holding up in the face of three straight days of the hurricane was simply incredible. Holding back your anger while being thrown paper towels by the “president” of the United States instead of medications and meals for your frail husband takes unbelievable strength. One might even say you live up to your hurricane namesake. Woman, how do you do it?

Tell me, what is your secret? We are watching how this government makes education unaffordable and inaccessible; watching our honorable teachers get fired while the news exposes what ridiculously large salaries new and old secretaries and assessors make. They make protests look bad, and even spew on social media that demonstrations waste their time and that we are being inconsiderate toward drivers and tourists. María, you have every reason to lose hope!

In a country where powerful figures lead us to hate our differences, you accept every race, age, gender, and sexual orientation with love and respect. In a community that is divided and riddled with the holes of ever-growing violence, you do your best to keep our family together and on good terms. María, it is like you swim against the tide, but you do not seem to mind. Is it something that comes with age? Does this radical hope come with being a mother, a grandmother, a good neighbor, a hardworking woman? Is this the true definition of being human?

I am running out of words, and I am still filled with questions and doubts, but I am hoping your memory, our origins, will guide us all through these turbulent and dangerous times. You, like so many Marías, deserve to be on that pedestal in the living room instead.

With admiration from your granddaughter,

Malena

You may not remember a time before you spoke English, but I certainly do. The language demeans our relationship, I think, which is why I still call you sestra, the Russian word for both sister and cousin. I feel that “cousin” implies a distance which doesn’t apply to you and me.

—Ziani Paiz, Alliance Leichtman-Levine Family Foundation Environmental Science High School, Los Angeles, Calif.

So, muñeca, cry. Cry for the limitations the world will throw at you each and every day. Sob for the hardships you will face. But muñeca, once you have cleared your tears away, lift your head up and look at the horizon. A new day dawns, and when it does, your future will be brighter than the sun.

—Kristen Thalia St. Louis, The Ethel Walker School, Simsbury, Conn.

Hope is defined as the feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best. Hope rides upon change. With change, good and bad can occur, but hope can travel one through even the toughest of times. 

—Christina Crass, The Weiss School, Palm Beach Gardens, Fla.

As we grow, we bury our spirit and our fire deep beneath our skin so that it will not show during auditions or job interviews or first dates.

—Mariposa Boyd, Telluride Mountain School, Telluride, Colo.

I hope that Black women are no longer looked down on by men of any race or ethnicity because they are seen as being “hard to handle”—as if women in general are supposed to be handled by men.

—Kiana Tanksley, Spring Hill College, Mobile, Ala.

When it comes down to it, I would ask that the public takes action by asking gun owners in their community if they believe that risking lives of youth around the country is worth taking a few shots to blow apart a target every now and then.

—Jackson Karls, The Crest Academy, Salida, Colo.

We must protect the integrity of our profession from forces who would label us as “bad teachers” and belittle us as greedy for wanting a cost of living wage, a new set of books for our students, and reliable plumbing.

—Deanna Chappell Belcher, University of Oregon, Eugene, Ore.

Dear Pop, I know what you thought of this world: fishing was the best past time, blue hair was absolutely ridiculous, you can never have enough flowers, and Gram was the prettiest woman on the entire planet.

—Amy Slack, Kent State University, Kent, Ohio

I’m sure you’ve already encountered this problem, but there will always be ignorant people who will try to jam your style. So the best advice I can give you is don’t let them bring you down. Let your enemies or those who you think are the perfect example of ruiners of our society build you up.  Take on a new level of confidence because you know you are stronger than lies and stupidity.

—Koko Waller, Telluride Mountain School, Teluride, Colo.

Our home in Michigan used to be an ancient coral reef under the ocean…Sharp glacier edges fell into the already pooling water, slicing the reef and leaving behind beautiful fossilized coral. Treasures we later collected on lazy summer days.

—Marci Bunn, Lane Community College, Eugene, Ore.

Dearest Malena, Lucy, Charlotte, and Carly,

Thank you so much for your letters—your epistolary essays, each of them brave and moving in its own way. Charlotte and Malena, you wrote to women in history, reaching back through time through the alchemy of the written word; Lucy and Carly, you wrote to extraordinary young people whose experiences speak volumes about our contemporary times. I see a common thread in all your pieces, and that is: courage. You wrote to people who exemplify courage, who blaze the way with their example, and your salute of them is a brave act of its own, a kind of compass offered to the reader.

When I was editing Radical Hope, the anthology Aura Bogado discusses in “Love Letters to the Resistance,” my deepest hope was that the essays in the book would be a source of solace, empowerment, or awakening as we weather an era of injustices and challenge to the values so many of us hold dear. Your essays demonstrate that such work is possible and that it continues every day. Your pen is mightier than the sword.

Writers are storytellers; we are also truth-tellers. It is not always easy work, but it is sometimes joyful, and always profoundly important. Writing is a superpower. You have it: keep using it. Persist. Create. Be brave and true. The world needs you, and you deserve all the good of the world.

Amor y luz / love and light,
Carolina

Each quarter, students are invited to read and write an essay on a selected YES! Magazine article. We divide contestants into four categories: middle school, high school, university, and Powerful Voice (for authors whose essays are powerful and passionate). Winning essays in each category are published on the YES! Magazine website and in our online education newsletter.

Register here. 

Click here for general information about the writing competition.

Read recent featured essays here. 

Letters of Hope

This spring, students will read and respond to the YES! Magazine article, “Love Letters to the Resistance,” by Aura Bogado.

The article reviews the book, Radical Hope: Letters of Love and Dissent in Dangerous Times, in which editor Carolina de Robertis has compiled letters that convey a sense of hope in the face of today’s social and political turmoil. The letters are penned by 30 writers and addressed to people—past, present, and future—who hold importance in their lives. In these letters, the writers seek hope from elders, grandparents, activists, children, even strangers who mirror the despair—and hope—that people are feeling at this moment in time.  

The Writing Prompt

Students, please respond to the writing prompt below with an up-to-700-word letter:

Think about what matters most to you about our country’s future. Write a letter to someone important to you, describing that future you imagine and hope for.

Who is Eligible?

• You must be a classroom teacher—homeschool cooperative, resource centers, supervised writing groups, and schools outside the U.S. included—for your students to participate.

• Student writers should be in grades 6-8, grades 9-12, college/university, or adult continuing education.

How does it work?

• Complete the competition registration form by March 9, 2018 (see link at bottom of page).

• Students respond to the YES! article with an essay up to 700 words.

• Submit up to three essays per class period, along with student release forms, by April 20, 2018.

• For each of the following categories, YES! staff (and possibly the author of the article) will select one essay that we feel is well-written, compelling, and captures the spirit of the article:

• • Middle School (Grades 6-8)

• • High School (Grades 9-12)

• • College/university

• • Powerful Voice (for an author whose essay is uniquely powerful or thought-provoking)

• • The selected essays will be featured on the YES! Magazine website and in our online education newsletter, reaching thousands of YES! readers, including over 11,000 teachers.

Common Core State Standards

This writing competition meets several Common Core State Standards for grades 6-12, including W.9-10.3 and W.9-10.4 for Writing, and RI.9-10.1 and RI.9-10.2 for Reading: Informational Text *

*This standard applies to other grade levels. “9-10” is used as an example.

What are the essay requirements?

• Respond to the article and writing prompt provided by YES!

• Provide an original essay title

• Reference the article

• No more than 700 words

• Must be original, unpublished words

• Teachers must read and submit their students’ essays. Remember, the limit is three essays per class period! Please take time to read your students’ essays to ensure they have met essay requirements, including correct grammar. Unfortunately, we cannot accept essays sent independently by students.

 In addition, we are evaluating essays for:

• Grammar

• Organization

• Strong style and personal voice. We encourage writers to include personal examples and insights.

• Originality and clarity of content and ideas

How do I submit the three best essays from my class?

• You must be registered for the competition by March 9, 2018.

• E-mail your three best student essays as word-processed document attachments (please no pdf or scanned documents) to writingcompetition@yesmagazine.org no later than April 20, 2018.

• Include a scanned, completed student release form with each submitted essay. Please make sure student email addresses are legible and visible —preferably typed. NOTE: Please submit all student essays by April 20, even if there are missing release forms.  Send in completed students releases as soon as you receive them. 

Get Started Here:

Student Release Form

Evaluation Rubric

Questions? Please email writingcompetition@yesmagazine.org

Thank you for joining us!

Common representations of the criminal justice system, like TV crime shows, often paint a romantic picture—heroic police and detectives keeping evil criminals out of our communities. But, the reality is strikingly different.      

The U.S. incarcerates more people per capita than any other developed nation. And it disproportionately targets and imprisons Black people, the poor, and people of color. 

This isn’t an accident. This country’s criminal justice system was born from policies, implicit biases, and societal structures that promote racial disparities.

Our seventh “Let’s Talk About” is on mass incarceration and includes resources on its roots and its alternatives. Teaching about mass incarceration pushes students to reimagine models of justice that are restorative and liberating, rather than oppressive.

How to Use This Collection

Suggested below are steps to a thoughtful and meaningful discussion with your students about school shootings. Choose what is appropriate for your class.

1. Students complete a pre-survey (optional).
2. Choose at least one YES! article and one outside article for a robust compare and contrast.
3. Use the discussion questions—or craft your own—to gauge your students’ understanding and opinions.
4. Students complete a post-survey (optional).
5. Explore curriculum if you’d like to dive deeper.

Reading Materials

YES! Articles

The Radio Show Bringing Prisoners Messages from Home

Youth Sentenced to Life in Prison Get a Second Chance

When Communities Say No One Should Stay in Jail Just Because They’re Poor

Opioid Addicts Get Compassion. Crack Addicts Get Mass Incarceration

What the Insanity of Mass Incarceration Has Done To Us

Outside Resources

The Destructive Lie Behind “Mass Incarceration” (Time)

How the School-to-Prison Pipeline Is Created (Atlantic)

Jay Z – The War on Drugs: From Prohibition to Gold Rush (Drug Policy Alliance)

Discussion Questions

1. Why do you think people of color, particularly Black men, are incarcerated at an extraordinarily higher rate than any other demographic? How is someone’s race, sexual orientation, physical or mental abilities, or gender identity treated in this country’s criminal justice system?

2. Think of the school-to-prison pipeline—the idea that students who are suspended or expelled from school are more likely to drop out of school, and therefore, much more likely to go to prison in their lifetime. How does your school discipline its students? Is its discipline policies and practices fair to all students? If not, what do you think school administration (and school resource officers) should do to treat all students justly?

3. Individuals make their own decisions—sometimes poor ones that land them in prison. Yet there are other factors that increase chances for imprisonment. How much responsibility should society take to help heal individuals from trauma, broken families, and abuse?

Curriculum

Teaching ‘The New Jim Crow’ (Teaching Tolerance)

Students will read and respond to Christopher Zumski Finke’s article, “Less Stuff, More Heart: 5 Gifts On a New Dad’s Christmas List.”

In this article, Zumski Finke acknowledges that one way people connect is to exchange gifts—it’s a way to show our appreciation for one another. Now that he’s got a child in the house, Christopher wonders how he should deal with holiday commercialism that’s fixated on buying and giving gifts.

Download lesson as a PDF.

YES! Magazine Article and Writing Prompt

Read the YES! Magazine article by Christopher Zumski Finke, “Less Stuff, More Heart: 5 Gifts On a New Dad’s Christmas List.”

Writing Prompt:

Imagine you’re about to celebrate a special holiday, milestone, or birthday. If you could ask for any non-material gift, what would you ask for? What would make this gift so special for you?

Writing Guidelines

The writing guidelines below are intended to be just that—a guide. Please adapt to fit your curriculum.

· Provide an original essay title

· Reference the article

· Limit the essay to no more than 700 words

· Pay attention to grammar and organization

· Be original. provide personal examples and insights

· Demonstrate clarity of content and ideas

· This writing exercise meets several Common Core State Standards for grades 6-12, including W. 9-10.3 and W. 9-10.14 for Writing, and RI. 9-10 and RI. 9-10.2 for Reading: Informational Text.*

*This standard applies to other grade levels. “9-10” is used as an example.

Evaluation Rubric

Sample Essays

The essays below were selected as winners for the Winter 2018 Student Writing Competition. Please use them as sample essays or mentor text. The ideas, structure, and writing style of these essays may provide inspiration for your own students’ writing—and an excellent platform for analysis and discussion.

“Stolen Stories” by Eva Vallier, grade 7. Read Eva’s essay about longing to hear her family’s stories about the Japanese internment and experiencing the weight of history.

“Same Dreams, Different President” by Heriberto Nava, grade 8. Read Heriberto’s essay about using the power of his voice to stand up for immigrants and DACA recipients, especially those he holds close.

“A Break From Racism” by Rhys Hardiman-Mostow, grade 8. Read Rhys’s essay about standing up to racism as a young Black woman with big dreams.

“Broken Mirror” by Alejandra Wagnon, grade 11. Read Alejandra’s essay about the challenge of living up to people’s expectations and wanting to be true to one’s self.

“Kayla” by Jake Hill, grade 11. Read Jake’s essay about the experience of unexpected loss and learning to trust the journey.

“To Walk the World on Trembling Legs” by Remy Stewart, university. Read Remy’s essay about traveling while disabled and disrupting the notion of “go as you please” that many take for granted.

We Want to Hear From You!

How do you see this lesson fitting in your curriculum? Already tried it? Tell us—and other teachers—how the lesson worked for you and your students.

Please leave your comments below, including what grade you teach.

The Standing Rock protest thrust the historic and continued colonization of the United States into public consciousness. It also presented an uncomfortable reality—a whop on the side of the head—that as non-Indigenous people, we are settlers living on colonized land.

From the landing of Christopher Columbus through Standing Rock, Indigenous peoples of many different tribes and cultures have resisted the colonization of their land.

Some teachers are hesitant to unpack and discuss challenging issues like this with their students because it feels complex and uncomfortable. But thoughtfully talking about controversial topics also cultivates critical thinking.

Our sixth “Let’s Talk About” is on decolonization. It centers on stories about Indigenous-led movements to “decolonize,” or to expose and resist the continued colonization of the United States. These stories will encourage your students to imagine just societies for all people—and get to the truth. 

How to Use This Collection 

Suggested below are steps to a thoughtful and meaningful discussion with your students about school shootings. Choose what is appropriate for your class.

1. Students complete a pre-survey (optional).
2. Choose at least one YES! article and one outside article for a robust compare and contrast.
3. Use the discussion questions—or craft your own—to gauge your students’ understanding and opinions.
4. Students complete a post-survey (optional).
5. Explore curriculum if you’d like to dive deeper.

Reading Materials

YES! Articles

5 Places to View Pre-Colonial America

Don’t Just Resist. Return to Who You Are

What Standing Rock Gave the World

How This Tribe Got Their Coastal California Lands Returned

The Indigenous Collective Using Tattoos to Rise Above Colonialism

*You’ll find more stories of strength and resilience by Indigenous writers and photographers in The Decolonize Issue of YES! Magazine.

Outside Resources

What Decolonization Is, and What It Means to Me

How the U.S.-Mexico border has split the Tohono O’odham

‘This is Not a Trend’: Native American Chefs Resist the ‘Columbusing’ of Indigenous Foods

Discussion Questions

1. Where are your ancestors from? How does knowing your history and culture inform and influence your life?

2. How is Native American history and contemporary culture taught in your school? Based on what you’ve learned, whose perspective is emphasized? Is the settling of the United States referred to as colonization in your school’s curriculum? If not, how is it described?

3. If you live in the United States, you’re living on colonized land. Do you know whose land you are living on?

Curriculum

Standing with Standing Rock (No DAPL) Role Play (Zinn Education Project)

Standing Rock Syllabus (NYC Stands with Standing Rock Collective)

Since Time Immemorial: Tribal Sovereignty in Washington State (K-12) Place-based, integrated curriculum endorsed by all 29 federally recognized tribes in Washington state.

The YES! National Student Writing Competition is an opportunity for middle school through university students to write for a real audience—not just you, the teacher—and the chance to be published by an award-winning magazine.

Each quarter, students are invited to read and write an essay on a selected YES! Magazine article. We divide contestants into four categories: middle school, high school, university, and Powerful Voice (for authors whose essays are powerful and passionate). Winning essays in each category are published on the YES! Magazine website and in our online education newsletter.

Register here. 

Click here for general information about the writing competition.

Read recent featured essays here. 

Less Stuff, More Heart

This winter, students will read and respond to the YES! Magazine article, Less Stuff, More Heart: 5 Gifts On a New Dad’s Christmas List, by Christopher Zumski Finke. In this story, Zumski Finke acknowledges that one way people connect is to exchange gifts—it’s a way to show our appreciation for one another. Now that he’s got a child in the house, Christopher wonders how he should deal with holiday commercialism that’s fixated on buying and giving gifts. 

The Writing Prompt

One Christmas, author and new dad Christopher Zumski Finke found himself reflecting not only on the gifts we give, but also the gifts we receive. What do I want for my son? For myself?  Hint: It’s not “things.”  

Students, please respond to the writing prompt below with an up-to-700-word essay:  

Imagine you’re about to celebrate a special holiday, milestone, or birthday.  If you could ask for any non-material gift, what would you ask for? What would make this gift so special to you?

Who is Eligible?

• You must be a classroom teacher—homeschool cooperative, resource centers, supervised writing groups, and schools outside the U.S. included—for your students to participate.
• Student writers should be in grades 6-8, grades 9-12, college/university, or adult continuing education.

How does it work?

• Complete the competition registration form by December 8, 2017 (see link at bottom of page).
• Students respond to the YES! article with an essay up to 700 words.
• Submit up to three essays per class period, along with student release forms, by Jan. 26, 2018.
• For each of the following categories, YES! staff (and possibly the author of the article) will select one essay that we feel is well-written, compelling, and captures the spirit of the article:
• The selected essays will be featured on the YES! Magazine website and in our online education newsletter, reaching thousands of YES! readers, including over 18,000 teachers.

Common Core State Standards

This writing competition meets several Common Core State Standards for grades 6-12, including W.9-10.3 and W.9-10.4 for Writing, and RI.9-10.1 and RI.9-10.2 for Reading: Informational Text *

*This standard applies to other grade levels. “9-10” is used as an example.

What are the essay requirements?

• Respond to the article and writing prompt provided by YES!
• Provide an original essay title
• Reference the article
• No more than 700 words
• Must be original, unpublished words
• Teachers must read and submit their students’ essays. Remember, the limit is three essays per class period! Please take time to read your students’ essays to ensure they have met essay requirements, including correct grammar. Unfortunately, we cannot accept essays sent independently by students.

 In addition, we are evaluating essays for:

• Grammar
• Organization
• Strong style and personal voice. We encourage writers to include personal examples and insights.
• Originality and clarity of content and ideas

How do I submit the three best essays from my class?

• You must be registered for the competition by Dec. 8.
• E-mail your three best student essays as word-processed document attachments (please no pdf or scanned documents) to writingcompetition@yesmagazine.org no later than Jan. 26, 2018.
• Include a scanned, completed student release form with each submitted essay. Please make sure student email addresses are legible and visible —preferably typed. NOTE: Please submit all student essays by Jan. 26, even if there are missing release forms.  Send in completed students releases as soon as you receive them. 

Get Started Here:

Registration Form 

Student Release Form

Evaluation Rubric

Future Writing Contest 

*Spring 2018

Details announced: Feb. 8

Registration due: March 2

Essays due: April 17

Questions? Please email writingcompetition@yesmagazine.org

Thank you for joining us!

Eva Vallier, a seventh-grade student of Jenny Zavatsky at Lake Washington Girls Middle School in Seattle, Washington, read and responded to the online YES! Magazine article, “Less Stuff, More Heart: 5 Gifts On a New Dad’s Christmas List,” by Christopher Zumski Finke.

Writing Prompt: Imagine you’re about to celebrate a special holiday, milestone, or birthday.  If you could ask for any non-material gift, what would you ask for? What would make this gift so special to you?

Stolen Stories

I try to breathe deeply but my grandma tied my obi too tight around my waist. I take a shallow breath instead and smell the incense that has wafted down the stairs, from the temple and into the gym. My obi is imprinted with flowers to match my kimono. The full gym is almost overwhelming for a first grader like me, but I smile because I can still taste the flavor of cherry shave ice.

Outside, lanterns are hung and people are dancing, like they do every July for the Bon Odori Festival, where I eat soba and watch people in colorful yukatas perform traditional Japanese dances. My mom leads me to a booth where she hands a man a few dollars to buy a book with a black and white picture of people behind a gate on the front cover. My mom shows me the book and explains to me that something happened in 1942, where all people of Japanese descent in certain parts of the United States were put in small cabins with dusty floors and no heat. My mom tells me that the children were not allowed to go to school and that the adults had their cars, their jobs, and their houses taken away from them. I wonder what it would have been like to live like that. I could not imagine a life that difficult. Then my mom tells me that my grandma spent three years of her childhood living that life.

“If you could only take three things somewhere for three years, what would you take?” my second grade teacher asks. I sit on the carpet as my teacher tells us that this was a decision people had to make when they were sent to the Japanese internment camps. I think about how difficult it would be to choose only three things, then I realize that my grandma had to make this decision in real life. I stop thinking about what I would bring and wonder what my grandma actually chose to bring. I wonder about this for the rest of the day.

In sixth grade, I listen to my mom as she asks my grandma questions about her childhood. My grandma laughs when she tells a story about her siblings, but when my mom asks her about the Japanese internment camps, a nervous smile appears on my grandma’s face.

“I was pretty young, so I don’t really remember much,” my grandma tells us in a tenuous voice. It’s like she’s avoiding the topic. I later learned that there is a Japanese cultural concept called gaman. Gaman means enduring the seemingly unbearable with patience and dignity. The term can be translated to “perseverance” or “self-denial.” My grandma grew up with this concept and uses it in her everyday life. She does not ask for help and she does not share her suffering. She is strong, and masks her difficulties.

In the YES! article, “Less Stuff, More Heart: 5 Gifts On a New Dad’s Christmas List,” Christopher Zumski Finke says, “Stories help us grow, learn empathy, and actually create change.” Like Christopher Zumski Finke, I want to hear the stories from my grandma about the Japanese internment camps. I want to hear the stories from my grandma because they shaped many parts of her life and many members of her family’s, as well. And it shaped parts of my life, too.

I want to undo my grandma’s gaman. Parts of my family’s lives were stolen from them. I want to understand my family better. I want to have answers to questions that I’ve had for years. I want to hear their stories.

Alejandra Wagnon, an eleventh-grade student of Maricella Barrera at William J. Brennan High School in San Antonio, Texas, read and responded to the online YES! Magazine article, “Less Stuff, More Heart: 5 Gifts On a New Dad’s Christmas List,” by Christopher Zumski Finke.

Writing Prompt: Imagine you’re about to celebrate a special holiday, milestone, or birthday.  If you could ask for any non-material gift, what would you ask for? What would make this gift so special to you?

Broken Mirror

The holiday season is a time for family and friends. It’s a time for giving gifts and sharing stories. However, with the holiday season fast approaching, the only gift I am given is time to think. With two weeks off from school, coupled with my mother’s hectic work schedule, family time is limited to none. I spend my time alone, always thinking, thinking, thinking.

One thing I found myself thinking about quite often was Finke’s essay on the more heartfelt gifts he wanted to receive this holiday season. The question resonated in my mind: What do I want? As an emotionally compromised teenager, coming up with a decent answer was much harder than I had anticipated. What about wisdom? No, too cliché. Family? Memories? Love? Every possible answer I thought of seemed “too this” or “not enough that,” causing me endless frustration. I continued to comb through every inch of my mind, drawing up blank thoughts and empty ideas. I realized that I didn’t know what I wanted and I didn’t know how to find out.

With my hopes shattered, I put in my earbuds, trying to drown in rippling chords and drifting words, when I found the idea in front of me.

“Have you ever felt like nobody was there?” Yes.

“Have you ever felt forgotten in the middle of nowhere?” Always.

The chords washed over me and the words crashed into me like waves on the shore. I felt exposed and vulnerable as every verse, every line, grabbed me by my very core. I sat quietly as the song crescendoed, finally ending its journey at the chorus: “You will be found.”

My chest contracted and collapsed as I felt my heart travel up between my ears to soak in these words and this moment, the moment when I finally realized what I wanted.

I decided that I wanted to be found. Not only that, I wanted a mirror.

For my entire life, I have stared at myself in a broken mirror. When I reflect on my life and on the person I used to be, I don’t think about how I prided myself on getting the highest behavior mark in class, or how I loved to explore every corner of the library (especially the ones I wasn’t allowed in), or even how I grew to love going to school to learn. Instead, I think about how much I cried when my mark got moved down for talking too much—and how I wouldn’t speak the next day. I think about how my parents, teachers, and I met to discuss my love for reading—and how they completely disregarded me and only talked about the “smart young lady” I would grow up to be. I think about how no matter how sick I felt I would force myself to go to school because getting anything less than perfect attendance and a perfect score would rupture the perfect vision of my perfect future, shattering my parent’s perfect picture of the daughter I was, of the “young lady” I would grow up to be.

Throughout my life I have looked at myself through the eyes of other people. I have painted myself white and stretched myself thin, becoming a screen for others to project their visions. For as long as I can remember, I have prioritized satisfying others over satisfying myself, prioritized polishing my perfect image over actually liking what I saw in the mirror.

This year, I would like the gift of finding that young, hopeful girl in my reflection. I want to recognize her eyes, the ones that constantly looked for beauty in this big, bad world. I want to recognize her mouth, the one that always had words catapulting into the air and onto paper. I want to recognize her in her totality, in her strength and her weakness, in her love and her hate. Just her— not the person that became what everyone thought she was. I want to see her, in all her light and all her darkness.

In that reflection, I want to see me.

Remy Stewart, a senior at University of California, Santa Cruz and student of Professor Megan Mcdrew, read and responded to the online YES! Magazine article, “Less Stuff, More Heart: 5 Gifts On a New Dad’s Christmas List,” by Christopher Zumski Finke.

Writing Prompt: Imagine you’re about to celebrate a special holiday, milestone, or birthday.  If you could ask for any non-material gift, what would you ask for? What would make this gift so special to you?

To Walk the World on Trembling Legs

If I were to ask for any non-material gift, it would be for the truly accessible ability to travel the world. I am a disabled person with a chronic illness that limits the mobility of my arms and legs, causes me to be more susceptible to catching infectious diseases, and contributes to overall pain and fatigue. My dream gift would be the utmost security that despite my health limitations I would be able to travel to wherever my heart desires.

First would be the process through the airport. I would be able to walk through crowds of people and board the plane without fear of falling ill. Medical masks would not be stigmatized as they are in many Western countries. I would be able to bring mobility devices on flights and be comfortable using them wherever I go. I would be able to use assisted transit services whenever my legs become too wobbly. If the peak of Mount Kilimanjaro called me, there would be a road paved for those without the same strength to scale it.  If the subway through Tokyo was my mode of transport, I would always have a seat available and people would believe that I am disabled if I requested one. If I wanted to swim in the Great Barrier Reef, I would have confidence that my needs would be met as I dived into the ocean blue.

There is so much with traveling that I feel able-bodied people take for granted. The limitations of my physical being are only half the battle. There is also how the world meets the needs of a disabled traveler. We are not the norm in the space of adventure and exploration. One does not think of a person with a mobility impairment, contending with psychopathology, or suffering from a chronic illness as someone leading the charge to the ends of the earth. Such assumptions must be challenged, but being the pioneer to break these barriers is no easy task. The question always lingers: “What could possibly go wrong?” Not just in the sense of missing a flight or getting lost in an unfamiliar place, but what will happen if I cannot walk any further, if I fall ill, or if I can’t bear the pain of not being able to experience what I truly desire.

In his article, “Less Stuff, More Heart,” Christopher Zumski Finke is poignant to observe that the presents that many of us crave go beyond the realm of objects and expenditures. However, it’s essential to consider that what many individuals from marginalized backgrounds may distantly long for is often what those in power normally receive. I know that many people dream to travel the world. My aspiration lies beyond the usual limitations, and I may go so far as to say that a goal’s greater inaccessibility for me makes it all the more appealing.

For my non-material gift, I ask for your willingness to stretch out your hand and be an accomplice for the disabled who pursue their own adventures. Confront those who gawk at us and ostracize us when we dare to walk outside our comfort zones —and into public squares—on broken legs. Do not push us beyond what we are able to do, but also do not shirk from taking the extra steps that allow us to partake in the same activities as able-bodied individuals. Understand that for us, this dream is all the sweeter in a world that was never built with us in mind. Your kindness and advocacy would be the most treasured present I could ever receive.

Rhys Hardiman-Mostow, an eighth-grade student of Eva McGough at Lake Washington Girls Middle School in Seattle, Washington, read and responded to the online YES! Magazine article, “Less Stuff, More Heart: 5 Gifts On a New Dad’s Christmas List,” by Christopher Zumski Finke. 

Writing Prompt: Imagine you’re about to celebrate a special holiday, milestone, or birthday.  If you could ask for any non-material gift, what would you ask for? What would make this gift so special to you?

A Break From Racism

If I could ask for a special gift, I would ask for racism to end so that I can identify as myself. I would not fear police, and I could have a break.  I’m a thirteen-year-old Black girl with big dreams.

Racism has the Black minority oppressed. Black and beautiful is how I identify, and the racism against me, all Black women and men, is unacceptable. I’m defined by my stereotype, and I can’t get a well-paying job! My people cross the street in order not to scare anyone. White women clutch their bags when a Black male walks by because they’re scared they’re going to get mugged.

I don’t want people to be afraid of me, I want them to like me. When I’m in a dangerous situation, I don’t want to hesitate to call 911. I don’t want to grow up in fear of police because there should be nothing to be afraid of. I want to dial the number and say my problem. I don’t want police to solve problems by ending a life or beating someone half to death in response to fear. I should not fear that police will kill me. We kneel during the national anthem to expose police brutality and racism in the United States of America. I should not have to kneel for my rights.

Christopher Zumski Finke has asked for five non-material gifts and a break from the world. I would also like to ask for a break. Christopher says, “I care about culture and politics and environmental activism—a lot.” He needs a break from activism and I need a break from the racism our “United” States have put Black people through. Black people have not forgotten what happened to us when cotton became an industry. We need a break from the names: Negro, Monkey, Blackie, Camel Lips. Black people need a break from the racism, a break from the biases, and a break from losing someone to a police shooting.

If racism was abolished I would be treated fairly. The world would be led by strong Black women. We would forgive what White people did to Blacks and not treat them the way they treated us because nobody should be treated that way. I would be greeted with smiles instead of stares. We would hug a brother instead of shoot one, and stay strong in the face of racism.

Jake Hill, an eleventh-grade student of Krystle Lindsey at Berryville High School in Berryville, Arkansas, read and responded to the online YES! Magazine article, “Less Stuff, More Heart: 5 Gifts On a New Dad’s Christmas List,” by Christopher Zumski Finke. 

Writing Prompt: Imagine you’re about to celebrate a special holiday, milestone, or birthday.  If you could ask for any non-material gift, what would you ask for? What would make this gift so special to you?

Kayla

On the night of June 13th, I tell my best friend goodnight, just like I have a million times before. All is normal, and I am eager to go to sleep so I can wake up before her like I always do—as well as greet her with a chipper good morning like I always do. Kayla Brooke Dotson has been my best friend since we met in the summer of 2013 because our sisters played on the same softball team. I had always wanted to be more than friends, and many times we talked about giving it a try, but since we were young, without driver’s licenses, and lived almost an hour a part, we never got the chance to be something more. Kayla and I could always talk to each other. We looked to one another for advice and support on all sorts of issues. 

We often stayed up half the night talking about our days and how much we missed each other; however, on this particular night, Kayla said she wasn’t feeling well and that she wanted to sleep it off. I didn’t think too much of this because it was just a little cold, right? Wrong. When Kayla was ten years old, she had a heart transplant. For seven years, all had been well and the heart and her body were accepting each other perfectly. In fact, two days prior to this night, she called me because she was ecstatic that she wouldn’t have to have any procedures this year; her last checkup showed that everything was in tip-top shape. Little did I know that as I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep that night would be the last time Kayla and I would speak. At 12:05 a.m., Kayla got up to get a drink of water. When she got to the sink, she had a seizure and fell. Kayla was airlifted to Fayetteville, and two hours and twenty-five minutes later the doctor called the time of death: 2:30 a.m. 

If I could have one gift that was non-materialistic, like the ones mentioned in Christopher Zumski Finke’s “Less Stuff, More Heart: 5 Gifts On a New Dad’s Christmas List,” I wouldn’t be selfish. I wouldn’t ask to have Kayla back. No, too many people have been touched by the words of wisdom she left behind in one of her personal diaries: her 27 life lessons. My favorite was number 13, “Trust in the journey, even when you don’t understand.” I wouldn’t reverse all the good that has come from Kayla’s passing. I wouldn’t deny a whole town the one thing they needed to finally come together as a community. I wouldn’t condemn her back to this earth where there was pain, suffering, and constant worry that her heart would be rejected by her body. 

No, I would not ask for that. The one thing I would ask for is a chance to say goodbye, if only for a few minutes to see Kayla again, and give her a chance to assure me that she is okay and that I no longer need to worry about her. If I was greedy, I would ask for one more day with her. I’m sure she would have plenty to tell me about her adventures in heaven because she would always talk my ear off. Just to see her smiling face for a short moment would be enough to give my heart and mind the closure it needs. 

Sadly, this wish is only hypothetical. Instead I am stuck here wondering what could have been. What if I hadn’t let her go to sleep so easily that night? What kind of future with her did I miss out on? These are questions I won’t know the answer to until I die and get the chance to see her again. For now, I will just listen to Kayla and trust the journey, even though I will not always understand it.

Heriberto Nava, an eighth-grade student of Lacey Vargas at The East Harlem School in New York, New York, read and responded to the online YES! Magazine article, “Less Stuff, More Heart: 5 Gifts On a New Dad’s Christmas List,” by Christopher Zumski Finke. 

Writing Prompt: Imagine you’re about to celebrate a special holiday, milestone, or birthday.  If you could ask for any non-material gift, what would you ask for? What would make this gift so special to you? 

Same Dreams, Different President

As my fourteenth birthday approaches, a gift I would ask for is the ability to vote for a different president of the United States of America. I know that as a middle school student, I don’t have the right to vote, but I need to do something to make my voice heard and stand up for others who are threatened. Among the many harmful decisions our current president is making for our country, he has chosen to end DACA. This decision directly affects my older brother, who is enrolled in DACA. My brother isn’t one of those “bad Mexicans” our president talks about in his speeches. He is one of the almost 700,000 current DACA recipients, commonly referred to as DREAMers, in this country.

My brother is one of the most hardworking people I have ever known. He works 48 hours a week at two different jobs, one at a bakery and one at a butcher shop, to try and save up for college. College is very expensive in America, and students under DACA are not eligible for federal financial aid. One day, he came home tired after working late only to see Donald Trump on television delivering the news that DACA was ending. It hurt me when I saw him cry in shock. I can’t even imagine one day being in a good mood and then hearing a news anchor tell you that you can’t accomplish your dreams anymore because of a decision made by the president and other people in power.

The news anchor used the phrase “original country.” He said my brother would have to go back to his “original country” if DACA was ended—this “original country” that he barely recognizes because he crossed the U.S.-Mexico Border when he was four. He has spent his life adapting to American culture and making friends here, just to be sent back to his “home country,” confused and not knowing anybody or how to get around. Now my brother is scared to leave his family and have his dreams crushed.

This is an issue for the nearly 700,000 undocumented people across the country. Seeing the heartbroken faces on the news is just really sad. But in hard times like this, we need to have hope that our members of Congress vote to keep DACA alive. This country’s economy will drop if our lawmakers choose to deport future surgeons, future engineers, and so many other immigrants and refugees who will make a difference in future Americans’ lives. Instead of tearing families apart by deporting loved ones, Congress should protect the DREAMers—good people who contribute to the economy and work really hard just to provide for their family.

In the YES! Magazine article, “Less Stuff, More Heart,” the author Christopher Zumski Finke suggests non-material gifts that are more meaningful than simple “stuff”—things like a family tree, donations in his name, or even a break. Since I don’t have the gift of a vote, I have to use the gift of my voice to ask Congress to do the right thing. I’m using my voice to ask all readers to urge their senators and representatives to keep DACA, and also asking all those who can vote to elect politicians who will make responsible decisions for our country. If DACA is killed, my brother and the hundreds of thousands of people in his situation will be in a world of pain.

The day I left Jamaica, I had to leave my mom’s side of the family behind—including my mother and my brother. That day I did not know that I would lose half of my heart and feel less love than I used to feel. 

—Ryana Lewis, grade 8, The East Harlem School, New York City, New York

In a well-loved book, you can see the stain from the jam you spilled on it at the breakfast table, find the folded note or “lost” grocery list you used as a bookmark, feel the brittle stiffness of a tome dropped into a bathtub while you’re reading. In a well-loved book, you can find emotions, memories, long forgotten moments trapped between its pages like a dried flower pressed within a heavy tome—perfectly preserved in all its beauty.
—Claire Chandler, grade 9, North Monterey County Independent Schools, Monterey, Calif.

I wrote down my feelings for the people I needed to. No pretenses, no story to mask anything, just truth. Just words. I laid myself bare for them, let them see everything in my head that doesn’t make it out of my mouth. It was terrifying. It was worth it.
—Perla Cabrera, grade 11, William J. Brennan High School, San Antonio, Texas

I wish to feel like a part of something, rather than just the only part that holds it all together. 
—Dakota Hall Alvard, grade 11, Berryville High School, Berryville, Ark.

On stage, I needed a voice that is passionate, a voice that burst from me. The voice I had tried so hard to contain was finally wanted somewhere.
—Zöe Predmore, grade 7, Lake Washington Girls Middle School, Seattle, Wash.

In our affluent, capitalistic high, we choose to indulge ourselves with everything from hyper-specific kitchen appliances to tax cuts.
—Elias Boshara, grade 11, Kirkwood High School, Kirkwood, Mo.

I appreciate my dog from his ears down to his paws.
—Layla Sprague, grade 8, Onteora Middle School, Boiceville, New York

There was something about the picture. It was like when you have a song stuck in your head and it won’t go away, or when you start a book and can’t look away. That was the spell that cast on my eyes when I looked into my mother’s beautiful brown eyes.
—Alexandra Hoyle, grade 6, Kennett Middle School, Landenberg, Phil.

When the weather is good, my family and I go to the park and play soccer. When we rest I look up at the sky and I think of both my grandparents. Maybe they are up there, up in the sky guarding us, seeing their little children and their little children’s children. Maybe one day my children would look up at the sky, hoping to have met them.
—Nicole Abrajan, grade 8, The East Harlem School, New York City, New York

Music is one of the things that everyone has access to. You don’t need an instrument, you can be the instrument.
—Miranda Song, grade 8, Brier Terrace Middle School, Brier, Wash.

I would be willing to give up every sweet time I hit the snooze button and every corner seat I lucked out on in public transportation if it meant I could have a recap of each moment I met someone who touched my life.
—Alex Mamore, University of California-Santa Cruz, Santa Cruz, Calif.

Every soul holds a story; each carries years of despair, contentment, guilt, and warmth.
—Madison Norris, grade 11, William J. Brennan High School, San Antonio, Texas

It is evident that teens prefer to have a good WiFi connection over a connection to others.
—Victoria Terry, grade 11, Shades Valley High School, Birmingham, Ala.

For my birthday, I don’t want a dance or a party like my quinceañera. I simply want to lay my beloved to rest and finally say goodbye. I want to cry in peace.
—Guadalupe Rodriguez, University of California-Santa Cruz, Santa Cruz, Calif.

Writing is like a puzzle; I have a clear picture, but just a few essential pieces are missing. In order to fill in the rest of the puzzle, I need words that I don’t possess.
—Emma Kerani, grade 8, Brier Terrace Middle School, Brier, Wash.

Our individual chase for perfection becomes a societal marathon with no winners.
—Delwin Portillo, grade 11, Berryville High School, Berryville, Ark.

Dreams are something that are important to us, and if they recur I believe that they are trying to tell us that this place has a meaning that you have not discovered yet.
—Allison Burton, grade 8, Lake Washington Girls Middle School, Seattle, Wash.

Dear Alejandra, Eva, Rhys, Heriberto, Remy, and Jake:

I cannot express the gratitude I feel for being given the chance to read your essays. The prompt you received for this essay about what non-material gift you would like to receive in your life; I hadn’t known that one gift I longed for was reading about your experiences. Each of you has a perspective on life that is unique to this moment, and I was humbled, captivated, and moved by all of your stories.

Eva, in your essay you capture the fundamental desire of so many of people: you want stories. To learn about your grandmother’s time in internment camps, and in hearing them to learn about yourself and your family. This is, to me, one of the greatest gifts there is, and the desire for family, history, identity, that it brings is to be cherished.

Remy, you’ve expressed a dream for a ‘truly accessible ability to travel the world,’ but in doing so you’ve also powerfully critiqued the manner in which I, and too many others, take for granted that which we receive without notice. Your writing vibrantly captures your desire to travel with equal access for disabled travels, and free from the gawking eyes of others. I’m thankful for the reminder of my failures, and won’t soon forget your wish of an outstretched hand to aid your adventures.

Alejandra, you long to see in the mirror not the expectations beset upon you, nor the doubt that inhabits all our minds, but the totality of yourself. What a blessing that gift would be. It’s one I, too, long for. Your words capture the difficulty we face as try to be ourselves, and see ourselves, and live fully as the individual we know we are.

Jake, your story profoundly moved me, and I’m sorry that such tragedy has already come into your life. Wanting more time with the people we love is not greed but heartache. As you wrote about the good that came from your dear friend’s death, I wonder at the strength and poise you demonstrate in your writing (and, I assume, your life).

Heriberto, your writing rings with passion, making a large-scale national crisis personal and true. The way you capture your brother’s concern, and your love for him that results, moved me but also angered me. The needless fear created by our current President’s actions on DACA must be opposed, and with young voices like yours engaging in that fight, I have hope for an outcome that will benefit your brother, and the 100s of thousands of other DACA enrolled young men and women in this country.

Rhys, you asked for a break from the racist reality that undergirds too many of the systems of power in our country. You ask for an end to that racism, and for a future  that sees ‘a young black girl with dreams’ as the capable leaders you are. Your voice raises up the cry of injustice. You write that given your wish, people would “stay strong in the face of racism.” I can tell you already have achieved that dream.

What strikes me most about your work together is how different each wish is, and yet how fundamentally similar the dreams are for our future. You want wholeness, peace, fulfillment, identity. You want an end to injustice, inequality, racism. These wishes are shared by many, but they can only be achieved when the world has a chance to meet individuals with empathy and understanding. And that’s what you young writers are doing.

By sharing the individual stories each of you have to tell, you brighten the world a little more, furthering our capacity for empathy and compassion. It’s a pleasure to know your stories, but more so, it’s important to hear them. Now that I know who you are, and what you’ve lived, we can work together to make your dreams possible.

Congratulations to all of you,

Christopher Zumski Finke

On February 14, there was a mass shooting at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida. Seventeen people were killed. Seventeen were wounded. It was inconceivable. Horrific. Catastrophic. A nightmare. How do you talk about this traumatic event with your students? How do you allay their fears and concerns as your school conducts lockdown drills and maybe even Active Shooter Civilian Response Training. Three weeks later, Parkland students are at the forefront of activism—lighting up social media, saying “enough” to elected officials and demanding gun reform. With passion and a range of opinions, the country is talking about how best to keep kids safe.

Some teachers are hesitant to unpack and discuss challenging events like this with their students because it feels complex and uncomfortable. But thoughtfully talking about these controversial topics also cultivates critical thinking. We’d like to help you by offering collections of relevant YES! stories and outside resources, plus discussion questions. Our promise is to choose resources that give voice to multiple perspectives—and get to the truth. 

Our fifth “Let’s Talk About” is on school shootings and its related issues of gun laws, masculinity, and student activism. You can look forward to a “Let’s Talk About” topic every first Thursday of the month. 

As always, thank you for the important work that you do. You make a significant difference in how students connect with this big world—and how they can make it better.

How to Use This Collection 

Suggested below are steps to a thoughtful and meaningful discussion with your students about school shootings. Choose what is appropriate for your class.

1. Students complete a pre-survey (optional).
2. Choose at least one YES! article and one outside article for a robust compare and contrast.
3. Use the discussion questions—or craft your own—to gauge your students’ understanding and opinions.
4. Students complete a post-survey (optional).
5. Explore curriculum if you’d like to dive deeper.

Reading Materials

YES! Articles

The Big Reason Young People Don’t Debate Gun Control the Way Adults Do

How Master Propagandists Linked Immigrants to the Florida School Shooting

Gun Violence Has Dropped Dramatically in 3 States With Very Different Gun Laws

High School Students Demanding Gun Reform Join Rich History of Teen Resistance

Do Gun Control Debates Ever Change Anything? In These Countries They Did

The Racist Origin of the Second Amendment and the Rise of Black Gun Ownership

Outside Resources

Don’t Blame Mental Illness for Mass Shootings; Blame Men

NRA chief: Security, not gun control, is answer to school shootings

How gun ownership became a powerful political identity

Discussion Questions

1. Why do school shootings happen? What factors lead to them?

2. What methods do you think would prevent school shootings?

3. Even though students who are undocumented or under 18 years old can’t vote, what are ways that they can influence change? That you can influence change? What makes young people’s voices unique and powerful?

Curriculum

Educator Guide: The Battle Over Gun Control (KQED)

The Power to Change the World: A Teaching Unit on Student Activism in History and Today (NY Times)

There are some acronyms that most people know: SUV, LOL, NPR. There are others when heard that evoke scrunched eyebrows in confusion. How many of your students have heard of DACA?

In 2012, President Obama enacted the DACA Program (Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals) that protects undocumented immigrants who entered the country as minors from deportation. There are almost 700,000 current DACA recipients, commonly referred to as DREAMers, in this country. DACA and issues of immigration have polarized the nation. Recently, DACA has found itself as a bargaining chip in congressional budget debates for the wall and other agendas. DREAMers face deportation if DACA isn’t renewed by March 5.

DACA may seem like a heavy topic to unpack and discuss with students because it feels complex and uncomfortable, yet this issue impacts everyone.

Thoughtfully exploring controversial topics like DACA also cultivates deeper understanding, critical thinking, and an ability to talk about different ideas and opinions.

This “Let’s Talk About” feature explores DACA and its related issues of immigration, racism, and sanctuary. With YES! stories and outside resources, plus discussion questions and curriculum, you and your students will learn about this topic from multiple angles.

In the end, we hope that this discussion will help students reflect on how the United States treats its immigrants, and what kind of society they want to be part of. 

This is our fourth collection. We will post a new collection on a different topic on the first Thursday of each month.

If you have ideas you’d like to share with other teachers or want to tell us how we could make this collection better, please share your thoughts in the comment section at the end of the article.

How to Use This Collection 

Suggested below are steps to a thoughtful and meaningful discussion with your students about DACA—plus issues of immigration, racism, and sanctuary.  Choose what is appropriate for your class.

1. Students complete a pre-survey (optional).
2. Choose at least one YES! article and one outside article for a robust compare and contrast.
3. Use the discussion questions—or craft your own—to gauge your students’ understanding and opinions.
4. Students complete a post-survey (optional).
5. Explore curriculum if you’d like to dive deeper.

Reading Materials

YES! Articles

The Mental and Physical Trauma of 750,000 DACA Kids Living in Limbo

Banishing DREAMers: The Meanness Isn’t Just Trump

I Stood Up to ICE, and Now They’re Trying to Deport Me

How to Help Immigrant and Muslim Neighbors

This Is Our Best Defense Against Trump’s Immigration Policies

Outside Resources

What Is DACA? Who Are the Dreamers? Here Are Some Answers

Why Your Economic Argument Against Immigration Is Probably Wrong

As a Dreamer, I Will Not Be A Bargaining Chip for Trump’s Attack on Immigrants

Discussion Questions 

1. What are some reasons people emigrate to America? What challenges might they face? Do you think their expectations for a better life are met? If not, how does this country disappoint or not live up its promise?

2. Why do you think there has been a growing intolerance of immigrants, and proposals for tougher immigration policies in the United States? Does this reflect the kind of society you want to be a part of? Explain why.

3. Every day we hear about anti-immigration threats and fears of harassment and deportation among immigrants. We also hear about individuals and groups protesting and offering aid and protection. Does your school openly talk about students at your school who are DREAMers, immigrants or refugees? How can classmates, teachers, and your community help these students feel safe, secure, and welcome?

Curriculum

Immigration Myths (Teaching Tolerance) (Teaching Tolerance)

Teaching About Immigration (Teaching for Change) with lessons on immigration from Rethinking Schools & Zinn Education Project.

Students will read and respond to Tracy Matsue Loeffelholz’s article, “What Japanese Internment Taught Us About Standing Up for Our Neighbors.”

In this article, Tracy reflects on the meaning of the Japanese saying, nidoto nai yoni: “Let it not happen again,” and wonders what communities might do differently to protect the civil liberties of our vulnerable neighbors. Tracy is part of the Japanese American community on Bainbridge Island, Washington—the first community in the nation to be rounded up and sent to concentration camps during World War II.

Download lesson as a PDF.

YES! Magazine Article and Writing Prompt

Read the YES! Magazine article by Tracy Matsue Loeffelholz, “What Japanese Internment Taught Us About Standing Up for Our Neighbors.”

Writing Prompt:

Think about someone in your school or community who is vulnerable and may need protection or support. This person may be a neighbor or a classmate— it may even be you. Are you willing and brave enough to stand up against injustice? Describe what you would do, and how your actions might make a difference.

Writing Guidelines

The writing guidelines below are intended to be just that—a guide. Please adapt to fit your curriculum.

· Provide an original essay title

· Reference the article

· Limit the essay to no more than 700 words

· Pay attention to grammar and organization

· Be original. provide personal examples and insights

· Demonstrate clarity of content and ideas

· This writing exercise meets several Common Core State Standards for grades 6-12, including W. 9-10.3 and W. 9-10.14 for Writing, and RI. 9-10 and RI. 9-10.2 for Reading: Informational Text.*

*This standard applies to other grade levels. “9-10” is used as an examples.

Evaluation Rubric

Sample Essays

The essays below were selected as winners for the Fall 2017 Student Writing Competition. Please use them as sample essays or mentor text. The ideas, structure, and writing style of these essays may provide inspiration for your own students’ writing—and an excellent platform for analysis and discussion.

“It Would Mean the World to Me,” by Ruby Rose Coney Wynne-Jones, grade 7. Read Ruby’s essay about about not labeling students with dyslexia as stupid, and instead getting them the help they need.

“An Unanswered Cry for Help,” by Alexandria Lutinski, grade 8. Read Alexandria’s essay about about living her own life after her snow globe world shatters.

“Bringing a Voice Back to Life,” by Logan Bailey Crews, grade 11. Read Logan’s essay about about being pushed to the edge of the skyscraper in his head in the recent past, but focusing now on shattering the stigma of depression and mental illness at his school.

“Highs and Lows,” by Aly Terry, grade 11. Read Aly’s essay about about how everyone can support people with bipolar disorder by helping them see not just the ups and downs, but all things beautiful in-between.

“Escaping the ‘Other’ Side,” by Adithi Ramakrishnan, grade 12. Read Adithi’s essay about about embracing both her Indian and American roots—and how to get beyond unfriendly stares in public.

“To Know Her is to Love Her,” by Amber Huff, university. Read Amber’s essay about what she found beneath the hoodie and ink-stained knuckles of a new library visitor.

We Want to Hear From You!

How do you see this lesson fitting in your curriculum? Already tried it? Tell us—and other teachers—how the lesson worked for you and your students.

Please leave your comments below, including what grade you teach.

Americans believe that today’s natural disasters are getting worse. And some wonder if we should call these disasters ‘natural.’ Are climate change, humans, and corporations responsible for such death and destruction?

Natural disasters—and who’s to blame— may seem like a heavy topic to unpack and discuss with students because it feels complex and uncomfortable, yet this issue impacts everyone. 

Thoughtfully talking about these controversial topics also cultivates critical thinking. 

This month’s “Let’s Talk About” feature explores the roots and impact of natural disasters. With YES! stories and outside resources, plus discussion questions and curriculum, you and your students will learn about this topic from multiple angles. 

In the end, we hope that this discussion will help students reflect on the human contribution to the cause of natural disasters, and what they can do when disaster strikes. 

This is our third collection. We will post a new collection on a different topic on the first Thursday of each month. 

If you have ideas you’d like to share with other teachers or want to tell us how we could make this collection better, please share your thoughts in the comment section at the end of the article.

How to Use This Collection

Suggested below are steps to a thoughtful and meaningful discussion with your students about natural disasters and who is responsible for their cause and impact. Choose what is appropriate for your class.

1. Have students complete a pre-survey (optional).
2. Choose at least one YES! article and one outside article for a robust compare and contrast.
3. Use the discussion questions—or craft your own—to gauge your students’ understanding and opinions.
4. Have students complete a post-survey (optional).
5. Explore curriculum if you’d like to dive deeper.

Reading Materials

YES! Articles

Hurricane Harvey Isn’t a “Natural” Disaster. Politics Created the Chaos 
Wildfires Are Essential: The Forest Service Embraces a Tribal Tradition 
When Fighting Wildfires Does More Harm Than Good 
A Clear Choice: My Fossil Fuels—or 5.6 Million People Fleeing a Hurricane
90 Companies Helped Cause the Climate Crisis—They Should Pay for It

Outside Resources

Why the 2017 Fire Season Has Been One of California’s Worst (LA Times) 
Wildfires Spark Where Growth is Sprawling (High Country News)
The Trauma After the Storm (Scientific American)

Discussion Questions 

1. One reason natural disasters receive so much media coverage is its immediate effect on so many people. What natural disaster could strike your community? Is your neighborhood and community prepared for a disaster? 

2. When a natural disaster strikes—think of a wildfire, flood, or hurricane—is everyone impacted equally? If not, who is impacted more than others?

3. What are meaningful ways that young people can help a community that has recently been hit by a natural disaster?

Curriculum

Teaching Hurricane Harvey (NY Times)

The YES! National Student Writing Competition is an opportunity for middle school through university students to write about something meaningful, and a chance to write for a real audience—not just you, the teacher.

Each quarter, students are invited to read and write an essay on a selected YES! Magazine article. We divide contestants into four categories: middle school, high school, university, and Powerful Voice (for authors whose essays are powerful and passionate). Winning essays in each category are published on the YES! Magazine website and in our online education newsletter.

Essays are due tomorrow, Friday, Nov. 3. Email essays to writingcompetition@yesmagazine.org . Be sure to send Student Release Form too.

Registration is closed for this contest. Stay tuned for winter contest details in early November.

Sign up our YES! For Teachers newsletter to be notified about future student writing contests.

Click here for general information about the writing competition.

Read recent featured essays here.

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Standing Up for Our Neighbors

In March 1942, 22-year-old Kay Nakao was one of 227 American citizens and their Japan-born parents forcibly taken from their homes on Bainbridge Island, Washington, and put on trains and buses destined for a concentration camp in the California desert. Kay, now 97, recalls how individual neighbors were kind and the community was quietly supportive, but no Japanese people were saying, “We won’t go!” and unlike today no people were carrying signs and protesting, “Don’t take our neighbors!”

This fall, students will read and respond to the YES! Magazine article, What Japanese Internment Taught Us About Standing Up for Our Neighbors, by YES! editorial director Tracy Matsue Loeffelholz. Tracy is part of the Japanese American community on Bainbridge Island, Washington—the first community in the nation to be rounded up by soldiers and sent to concentration camps  during World War II. She reflects on the Japanese saying nidoto nai yoni: “Let it not happen again,” and what communities might do differently today to protect the civil liberties of our vulnerable neighbors.

The Writing Prompt

Students, please respond to the writing prompt below with an up-to-700-word essay:

Think about someone in your school or community who is vulnerable and may need protection or support. This person may be a neighbor or a classmate—it may even be you. Are you willing and brave enough to stand up against injustice? Describe what you would do, and how your actions might make a difference.

________________________________

Who is eligible?

• You must be a classroom teacher—homeschool cooperative, resource centers, supervised writing groups, and schools outside the U.S. included—for your students to participate.
• Student writers should be in grades 6-8, grades 9-12, college/university, or adult continuing education.

How does it work?

• Complete and send the competition registration form by Sept. 22, 2017 (see link at bottom of page).
• Students respond to the YES! article with an essay up to 700 words.
• Submit up to three essays per class period, along with student release forms, by Nov. 3, 2017.
• For each of the following categories, YES! staff will select one essay that we feel is well-written, compelling, and captures the spirit of the article:
* Middle School (Grades 6-8)
* High School (Grades 9-12)
* College/university
* Powerful Voice (for an author whose essay is uniquely powerful or thought-provoking)
• The selected essays will be featured on the YES! Magazine website and in our online education newsletter, reaching thousands of YES! readers, including over 16,000 teachers.

Common Core State Standards

This writing competition meets several Common Core State Standards for grades 6-12, including W.9-10.3 and W.9-10.4 for Writing, and RI.9-10.1 and RI.9-10.2 for Reading: Informational Text *
*This standard applies to other grade levels. “9-10” is used as an example.

What are the essay requirements?

• Respond to the article and writing prompt provided by YES!
• Provide an original essay title
• Reference the article in the essay
• No more than 700 words
• Must be original and unpublished
• Teachers must read and submit their students’ essays. Remember, the limit is three essays per class period. Please take time to read your students’ essays to ensure they have met essay requirements, including correct grammar. Unfortunately, we cannot accept essays sent independently by students.

In addition, we are evaluating essays for (see rubric at bottom of page):
• Grammar
• Organization
• Strong style and personal voice. We encourage writers to include personal examples and insights.
• Originality and clarity of content and ideas

How do I submit the three best essays from my class?

• You must be registered for the contest by Sept. 22.
• E-mail your three best student essays to writingcompetition@yesmagazine.org no later than Nov. 3.  Submissions must be sent as a Word attachment or pasted into the body of the email.
• Include a scanned, completed student release form with each essay. Student email addresses must be legible and visible—preferably typed. NOTE: Please submit all student essays by Nov. 3, even if there are missing release forms.  Send in completed students releases as soon as you receive them.

Forms You’ll Need:

Registration Form
Student Release Form
Evaluation Rubric

Future Contests

*Winter 2018

Details announced: Nov. 6

Registration due: Dec. 8

Essays due: Jan. 26

*Spring 2018

Details announced: Feb. 8

Registration due: March 2

Essays due: April 17

Questions? Please email writingcompetition@yesmagazine.org

Thank you for joining us!

Ruby Rose Coney Wynne-Jones, a seventh grade student of Liz Finin at the Odyssey Multiage Program on Bainbridge Island, Washington, read and responded to the online YES! Magazine article, “What Japanese Internment Taught Us About Standing Up for Our Neighbors, “by Tracy Matsue Loeffelholz. 

Tracy is part of the Japanese American community on Bainbridge Island, Washington—the first community in the nation to be rounded up and sent to concentration camps during World War II. In this story, she reflects on the meaning of the Japanese saying, nidoto nai yoni: “Let it not happen again,” and wonders what communities might do differently today to protect the civil liberties of our vulnerable neighbors.

Writing Prompt: Think about someone in your school or community who is vulnerable and may need protection or support. This person may be a neighbor or a classmate—it may even be you. Are you willing and brave enough to stand up against injustice? Describe what you would do, and how your actions might make a difference.

It Would Mean the World to Me

When I was in the second grade and living in England, I didn’t understand the questions in my math book, and I didn’t understand the words in my storybooks. Books were a blur of confusing numbers and words to me. I stayed at the same level of reading for about three years. My teachers, who were impatient and frustrated with my learning, would end up telling me how to get the answer to a math problem or say, “This is how to do it,” then give out long droning sighs of disappointment.

One day the second grade math teacher said in front of the whole class, “You don’t get this.  Go to the first grade classroom.” Those words made my cheeks turn bright burning red as everyone in the class turned to stare at me. In my head I was screaming, screaming at myself, “Why can’t you just get the problems in the math book or understand the words in the books like everyone else in the class?”

Every week we had assembly. Each student would get a book to read with the songs in it. When it was my turn to get a book, they just skipped me and said to just hum because they knew I couldn’t read the book. I just sat there and swallowed my tears, and my face was that stunned, rose color again. I said to myself, “Let this not happen again” but I did not know how to make this come true.

Every day when I got home Mom would say that I had to read and do my homework—then I could do what I wanted. When I had finished that torturing painful book, I got a piece of paper and drew. Drawing was my way out of that dark space of numbers and letters that swirled around my head like a hurricane. When I draw, the sun comes out.

The next year, my mom drove me to a city and told me I was going to a special doctor. I thought to myself, “I hate doctors,” and wondered why this one was special. We went upstairs to a room and opened the door to where a nice lady with a kind face stood behind the door. My mom sat down in the corner next to the window with the white curtains drawn and sunlight peeking through them.

The lady told me to sit on the chair in front of the desk; she sat next to me and pulled out some card games and mind puzzles. I thought, “I like games, so this can’t be a doctor.” As I played the games with her, she wrote things on a clipboard. When it seemed like an hour had gone by, the lady showed my mom a paper and then we left. When I went to school the next day, the teacher told me to sit at the table with the people who got their own separate teacher. When I got home, my mom told me that the place I had gone to the day before was to see if I had dyslexia. She told me that I had dyslexia.

The YES! Magazine article, “What Japanese Internment Taught Us About Standing Up for Our Neighbors,” by Tracy Matsue Loeffelholz, talks about how nobody stood up for Japanese people in World War II. I want to stand up for kids with dyslexia or ADHD— to let it not happen again like when our neighbors on Bainbridge island were taken away. We should consider that kids who struggle with reading or writing may have dyslexia or ADHD. Don’t just judge them as stupid. I was one of those kids who didn’t get it like everyone else. I was the one who everyone thought was stupid. I want to stand up for those kids who are suffering, so that they can be treated like everyone else and not have to go through what I did.

In Loeffelholz’s article, 97-year-old internment survivor Kay Sakai Nakao said, “We have to fight for them—fight for them!—because not too many people fought for us.” I want to fight for kids with dyslexia by putting more paraeducators in schools in England and America, to help people who are not getting the help they need. I am standing up for these people like nobody did for me.

Nidoto nai yoni—let it not happen again. Don’t humiliate children with learning disabilities. Don’t judge people who aren’t as good at things. Don’t treat them differently— treat them the same way you treat everyone else because they aren’t that different. When they ask for help, it could mean the world to them if you did, because I know it did when people helped me.

Adithi Ramakrishnan, a twelfth grade student of Mary Beth Kochman at Thomas Jefferson High School in Alexandria, Virginia, read and responded to the online YES! Magazine article, “What Japanese Internment Taught Us About Standing Up for Our Neighbors,” by Tracy Matsue Loeffelholz.  

Tracy is part of the Japanese American community on Bainbridge Island, Washington—the first community in the nation to be rounded up and sent to concentration camps during World War II. In this story, she reflects on the meaning of the Japanese saying, nidoto nai yoni: “Let it not happen again,” and wonders what communities might do differently today to protect the civil liberties of our vulnerable neighbors.

Writing Prompt: Think about someone in your school or community who is vulnerable and may need protection or support. This person may be a neighbor or a classmate—it may even be you. Are you willing and brave enough to stand up against injustice? Describe what you would do, and how your actions might make a difference.

Escaping the “Other” Side

 
On a cold Friday evening, my family stumbled into a local Italian restaurant. Sandwiched between my grandparents, I squeezed their hands tightly as we piled into a narrow booth. Their visit from India was drawing to a close, but I intended to make the most of every last minute. We passed laminated menus to each other and began laughing, talking, and deliberating. I  tugged at the chunni of my grandmother’s traditional Indian salwar kameez and pointed out my personal favorites to her in our native language. Then, something at the table beside us caught my eye. I glanced over.

I quickly turned away. Maybe I’d misunderstood.

Then, I snuck a second, more apprehensive look. My stomach lurched.

An elderly white couple was dining at the table next to ours. The wife’s eyes were fixed on her menu, but her husband’s were fixed on us. His eyebrows curved downwards in a cold, steely glare.  I looked away again, a worm of doubt squirming in my chest. But every time my gaze wandered, it met his icy stare, and my insides turned over.

For the rest of the evening, I switched to English.

That chilly night at Lucia’s, I felt something I’d experienced only in doses before: the feeling of being the other. I don’t fit into an easily categorized box. I’m still trying to navigate the narrow path between Indian and American, and I’m the furthest thing from an old white male. Just because I’m not the model portrait of a 1950s American doesn’t mean I can’t repaint that image in the 21st century.

“Standing up against injustice” is a broad statement, but represents something very specific: inclusion and acceptance. We have to stop sorting people into the “other” category—we not only have to recognize the humanity in each other, but we also have to be willing to fight for it.  It’s a simple change in perspective that can have immediate implications. Tracy Matsue Loeffelholz refers to it in her article, “What Japanese Internment Taught Us About Standing Up for Our Neighbors,” as an appeal to raise our voices in support of those that need it most—not merely to show support, but also to protest unfair treatment.

But what about me? What happens when I’m the target of raised eyebrows and consistent “random” searches at the airport, while white passengers walk by unnoticed?

It has taken me time to define my version of protesting injustice, and I will likely reshape my definition in the future. But For now, dissension means living my culture as boldly and loudly as possible. It means stringing lights through the shrubbery outside our house and lighting sparklers to illuminate our cul-de-sac on Diwali, the Hindu festival of lights. It means getting up thirty minutes early to pin my dupatta and come to school in my brightest, most vibrant traditional clothing for International Day. It means making quips to my family in Tamil when we’re in public. To me, standing up for my culture is normalizing diversity while letting my Indian and American roots shine.

Loeffelholz says that “public opinion affects political will, and political will makes a difference.” I wholeheartedly agree. If we as Americans present a united front—one that includes people of all races, genders, and sexualities—labeling each other not as other but as together, it becomes much harder to tear us apart. The next time I catch an unfriendly stare in a public place, I won’t turn away.

I’ll start a conversation—not with “How could you?,” but “How are you?”

Amber Huff, a student of William Carder at Tarrant County Community College, Fort Worth, Texas, read and responded to the online YES! Magazine article, “What Japanese Internment Taught Us About Standing Up for Our Neighbors,” by Tracy Matsue Loeffelholz.

Tracy is part of the Japanese American community on Bainbridge Island, Washington—the first community in the nation to be rounded up and sent to concentration camps during World War II. In this story, she reflects on the meaning of the Japanese saying, nidoto nai yoni: “Let it not happen again,” and wonders what communities might do differently today to protect the civil liberties of our vulnerable neighbors.

Writing Prompt: Think about someone in your school or community who is vulnerable and may need protection or support. This person may be a neighbor or a classmate—it may even be you. Are you willing and brave enough to stand up against injustice? Describe what you would do, and how your actions might make a difference.

To Know Her is to Love Her 

We perceive others through eyes conditioned by our personal socialization, often leading us to misinterpret the true character of those who we have just met. In the YES! article, “What Japanese Internment Taught Us About Standing Up for Our Neighbors” author Tracy Matsue Loeffelholz, emphasizes how capable our society is of standing up for the vulnerable, unlike we were seven decades before today. Three weeks ago, fifteen-year-old Angela, strolled into the library where I work, with her tan bandana tied taut across her forehead as if it were the only thing keeping her broken life from shattering into pieces.

This brilliant adolescent has taught me more about life than the past fourteen years of my formal education: that no one deserves to be judged solely based on their history and ethnicity. Angela grew up on the streets of Madera, California, where she made her way in and out of psychological institutions and jail cells. Depression, encouraged by the disarray of her life, plagued Angela’s mind, driving her to fashion a homemade noose in a final attempt to abolish her reality. Though Angela has physically survived her past, she bears the scars of knives that have split open her skin. These memories influence the night terrors that taunt the recesses of her beautiful mind.

Three months ago, Angela was offered the liberty to fly over fifteen hundred miles from her previous life to live with her father here in Texas. Most of the residents in our tiny town of less than one thousand people judged Angela harshly based on her appearance alone. Rumors about her past spread instantaneously and captured the attention of the school police officers.

Within weeks, Angela was referred to DEAP (Developmental Educational Assistance Program) for possession of Nyquil. There were no questions about why she had the nighttime flu medication, all that she had a self-destructive history and that she potentially would be a negative influence on her peers. As claimed in Loeffelholz’s paper, the fight for justice for the loyal is minimal. Though we cannot prevent the trials and tribulationsof others, we can be there to  help them in their times of need.

Upon hearing her stories and having spent time with Angela, I found that beneath the oversized hoody and ink-stained knuckles, she is the most genuine, heroic, altruistic, talented, humorous, but broken individual that I have ever met. Regardless of the way I view her, Angela possesses the self-perception of worthlessness. When she walks through town, she faces an unfair sentence from those community members who can’t see beyond the color of their skin and her trauma-filled past. Their crime is that they feed the negative emotions Angela already has about herself, and deny themselves from seeing the beauty and vulnerability that lies beneath.  

Across our nation there are people just like Angela who suffer from unjust condemnation. This knowledge buries itself deep within the marrow of my bones and encourages me to put aside my trivial frustrations and place Angela atop my priority list. In my own simplistic way, I reiterate my personal motto and call for action as suggested in Loeffelholz’s article. I encourage every patron who walks through the threshold of my library not to judge others based on the clothes on their back, and to take into consideration a person’s experiences before formulating a concrete opinion. My meager attempts to help this young lady reaches far beyond her benefit. Without Angela, I would continue to judge people before ever having known them.

On the surface, Angela seems like the same shattered girl who once lived on the streets of a concrete city. Yet her aspiration for life has blossomed and exposes itself in her words. Instead of creating raps that spew the voice of hurt and hatred, Angela now sings the song of hope and gratitude. I can only imagine how many lives would be saved if others were to open their arms to the brokenhearted. Small acts of kindness like a “Hi, how are you?” check-in, or offering a ride to school. Had the roles been reversed, they, too, no doubt would crumble beneath the pressure of judgement.

Alexandria Lutinski, an eighth grade student of Jennifer Hutchinson at Goodnight Middle School in San Marcos, Texas, read and responded to the YES! Magazine article, “What Japanese Internment Taught Us About Standing Up for Our Neighbors,” by Tracy Matsue Loeffelholz. 

Tracy is part of the Japanese American community on Bainbridge Island, Washington—the first community in the nation to be rounded up and sent to concentration camps during World War II. In this story, she reflects on the meaning of the Japanese saying, nidoto nai yoni: “Let it not happen again,” and wonders what communities might do differently today to protect the civil liberties of our vulnerable neighbors.

Writing Prompt: Think about someone in your school or community who is vulnerable and may need protection or support. This person may be a neighbor or a classmate—it may even be you. Are you willing and brave enough to stand up against injustice? Describe what you would do, and how your actions might make a difference.

An Unanswered Cry for Help

I heard the door creak open as I worked on my assignment. I looked up and saw Charlie with a new kid. Charlie’s one of the school monitors; he’s the only employee at Goodnight who students talk to on a first-name basis. Our teacher had told us that we were getting a new student. She was a bit nervous as the adults exchanged words. “Hello, I’m Mrs. Recio, why don’t you introduce yourself?” my teacher said kindly as she shook the student’s hand.

What happened next shocked me.

The student’s voice was bold as she spoke, “Hello, I’m a student from Comal County. I’m 12 years old and was born September 13th, 2003.” She wasn’t scared of being new, she seemed… proud? Her voice sculpted her words like delicate clay. She resembled a teacher in her stance, her voice, and her strong, agile footsteps, as she took her seat.

Her introduction may have been powerful, but strength often fades to weakness. I noticed the tension around her. I felt the thickness of the air. The tremble of her hand as she listened to the world around her. A soft breath of air could shatter her world like a snow globe falling to the floor.

Her poetic writing brought confusion to her new teachers. What happened over the summer while I was away? The delicate faded gray designs traced onto bleached paper. Designs of hatred, evil, and war.

The year aged. I saw her slip on the ice in her mind. A mind full of creativity and growth that was locked behind by a greater force. The tremble of her hand a constant reminder of her fear. She’s running away from everything, but a force beyond her control brings her back.

Why don’t I help her?

I can’t. She’s beyond help that she can ask for. I want to help her. I’m the voice trapped inside her mind. Yes, I am the girl. The strong voice that faded into a dark hole of despair. I begged for help, but, of course, the smart and intelligent girl couldn’t need help. She’s too good for depression. Too good for anxiety.

Was she really too good for it now?

I feel the burning embers of a fire deep in my heart, the perfect snow globe that shatters on the floor. Icy blood meanders through my body like a jellied river.

Lost tears never dance down the pale skin of my face. Pale wrists never see the fresh crimson cuts from a razor. Dark brown strands of hair never feel the delicate weave of braids.

Swimming through wave after wave of emotions. Anger, sadness, fear, and anxiety. Day after day of torment and war inside my own mind breaks me down to ash on the ground.

Black and White

Black and white
Two opposites
Two colors
But really are they colors?

One absorbs all light
One reflects all light
One is dark
One is light

Some people see
Only these two shades
Others see all
Reds, blues, and more

Imagine only seeing
Black and white
And all shades between

No bright colors
No dull colors
Just black
And white

You can see the
Truth behind a pigment
How dull or how bright
Maybe the color tells a tale

Black and white…
Black and white…
Black and white…

—Alexandria Lutinski 12/8/16

Even though I see all colors, I can’t feel them. The brightest blues to the darkest greens. Colors show me that the world is much brighter than I am. It’s an egregious curse that I have developed over many cold years.

Being a bisexual teenager has been a nightmare. My parents are accepting, but my grandmother has tried “Praying the gay away!” Why do people deliberately hurt others who don’t fit into their beliefs? “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. There is none other commandment greater than these.” ~ Mark 12:31, King James Bible. If you mistreat your neighbor, then you are expressing that you want to bring others down.

So I continue my life. The outcast, bisexual teenager who just wants to have a normal life. The life many others get to live every day. My snow globe has shattered. Now it’s my turn to step out and be me. Still, there are many others trapped in their own snow globes. And they need your support and kindness. Just like I did.

Aly Terry, an eleventh grade student of Adam Rowland at Kirkwood High School in St. Louis, Missouri, read and responded to the online YES! Magazine article, “What Japanese Internment Taught Us About Standing Up for Our Neighbors,” by Tracy Matsue Loeffelholz.  

Tracy is part of the Japanese American community on Bainbridge Island, Washington—the first community in the nation to be rounded up and sent to concentration camps during World War II. In this story, she reflects on the meaning of the Japanese saying, nidoto nai yoni: “Let it not happen again,” and wonders what communities might do differently today to protect the civil liberties of our vulnerable neighbors.

Writing Prompt: Think about someone in your school or community who is vulnerable and may need protection or support. This person may be a neighbor or a classmate—it may even be you. Are you willing and brave enough to stand up against injustice? Describe what you would do, and how your actions might make a difference.

Highs and Lows 

There’s this thing my brain has. This thing that controls my moods, my thoughts, my behavior, my everything. I guess you could say my brain is this thing that gives me highs greater than any drug and lows deeper than craters. This thing plants mountains and valleys in my mind so that I can only see one step in front of me. So I can only act with its permission. This thing is bipolar. My brain is bipolar. I am bipolar.

Bipolar: a mental illness that brings severe high and low moods and changes in sleep, energy, thinking, and behavior.

Bipolar, also known as manic depression, conquers my world. Throughout my sixteen years of existence, I have had twice the amount of bipolar episodes than birthdays. And the only presents I have received from my friends and family is fear. Fear that my bipolar gets me too caught up in my own head. Fear that my bipolar will bring them down. Fears of my ups and downs.

Mania (“the ups”): excessive happiness, changing suddenly from being joyful to irritability, restlessness, poor concentration, showing poor judgement, or being impulsive.

My most immense “up” came when I was with my little sister. After weeks of seemingly normal behavior, I received some amazing news and was ready to take over the world: my dad wanted back into my life. This meant the world to my nine-year-old heart. I was happy. Elated. Couldn’t keep my feet on the ground. So I decided I would drive to him. I stole the keys to our van, with my little sister in the front seat, and started to drive the twenty miles to see him. Almost two minutes later, the wind rustling through my curls, we got in a car accident. I hit my head on the dashboard and now I have seizures.

Depressive periods (“the downs”): sadness, not enjoying things you once enjoyed, loss of energy, trouble concentrating, uncontrollable crying, insomnia, thoughts of death, attempts of suicide.

My most immense down came when I was by myself. Again, after seemingly normal behavior, I received some life-altering news and couldn’t handle this world. My best friend, Sen, killed himself. And it broke my heart. My brain decided the only way my heart would stop breaking is if I were with him. So I tried. I came home from school, blade in hand, and cut so deep in my skin that my bones felt it. I needed to let my blood make love with the floor so my spirit could escape to be with my best friend. I didn’t succeed. The ambulance was faster than my hands. In another five minutes, I would have been dead. What my family saw as grief was actually a bipolar episode that I could not control. Bipolar is this thing that my brain can’t control.

I may not be able to control much, but I can control the words that I write and why I write them. I’m writing this for awareness. Like those innocent Japanese individuals in Tracy Loeffelholz’s article, “What Japanese Internment Taught Us About Standing Up for Our Neighbors,” I am vulnerable. My disease makes me vulnerable. Bipolar disorder makes 5.7 million Americans vulnerable; and sometimes we can’t protect ourselves. We can’t stand up for ourselves because our brains will make a morgue of our mouths. This loud disease will make us silent.

So I come to you, everybody reading this. When our heads are louder than our mouths, you are our only hope. Although everyone’s highs and lows may not be as disastrous as mine, they are still there with dangerous potential. Please, help protect us. Talk to us. Offer support and patience. Be understanding and encourage us to get help because we can get better. We can learn to see not just the ups and downs but everything in-between. Help us see that the middle isn’t hurtful, but beautiful.

Logan Bailey Crews, an eleventh grade student of Janet DePasquale at Kirkwood High School in St. Louis, Missouri, read and responded to the online YES! Magazine article, “What Japanese Internment Taught Us About Standing Up for Our Neighbors,” by Tracy Matsue Loeffelholz.  

Tracy is part of the Japanese American community on Bainbridge Island, Washington—the first community in the nation to be rounded up and sent to concentration camps during World War II. In this story, she reflects on the meaning of the Japanese saying, nidoto nai yoni: “Let it not happen again,” and wonders what communities might do differently today to protect the civil liberties of our vulnerable neighbors.

Writing Prompt: Think about someone in your school or community who is vulnerable and may need protection or support. This person may be a neighbor or a classmate—it may even be you. Are you willing and brave enough to stand up against injustice? Describe what you would do, and how your actions might make a difference.

Bringing a Voice Back to Life

“I’m literally going to kill myself.”

With no context, a proposed death threat would raise red flags. To naive teenagers, such a threat is a typical response after a test, in-class essay, or even after a teacher hands out homework.

I’ve had days throughout my high school career where each day builds another story onto my skyscraper of self-loathing. I’ve had days where each class claws at my conscience, pointing out my flaws and giving me reasons why I shouldn’t exist. I’ve had days where each lunch period laughs at my inability to smile over the pain, and taunts me to jump off the building constructed in my head.

Being suicidal at school is feeling so vulnerable that every day is a push further to the edge of the skyscraper. Last winter, a silence took over my brain so deafening that even a pen clicking from across the room sounded like an alarm ringing, telling me to evacuate now—or else!

Being suicidal at school is giving up class periods to collapse on the bathroom floor, hoping that no one finds me. At the same time, I also hoped someone would save me in case I let myself dangle over the edge of the skyscraper. Being suicidal at school is watching others claim they are suicidal from only stressing over homework or fuming about a test grade. The overdramatic teenage culture that worships the aesthetic of mental illness but avoids its consequences creates an environment where students who do feel suicidal don’t feel safe or accepted.

With recovery from suicidal behavior under my belt, I go to school every day ready to stand up for people who are currently struggling. Sometimes all it takes to start breaking down the stigma against suicide is to pay attention to kids who act the way I did. Sometimes all it takes is to give them a compliment on the way out of the classroom. I’ve had days where knowing my hair, if nothing else, looks nice pulls me out of the gutter. Sometimes, though, I know I can’t change an entire school’s mindset with a few nice words to a couple of students a day.

Tracy Matsue Loeffelholz explained in “What Japanese Internment Taught Us About Standing Up for Our Neighbors” that people feel more comfortable speaking up about problems around them “when people feel secure in […] community support.” Positive growth around mental illness in a high school happens best when students feel like their classmates support them. While I was struggling with suicide, I wanted to help break the stigma against students like me. Every day, I heard ignorant people mock mental illness and the affected, like me, remained silent. Finally, I forced myself out of the bed my depression wanted to trap me in, carried my courage like a shield, and I joined Kirkwood High School’s Suicide Awareness Week (SAW) committee.

Over the past year, I’ve joined forces with a board of other students who want to rip holes through the stigma around mental illness at school. I’ve talked with counselors and students with experiences similar to mine to better grasp the issue of teen suicide at KHS and the rest of the country. I’ve helped gather statistics on how many students actually face depression and other illnesses every day, and I’ve felt the shock of knowing the majority of students at my school either deals with mental illness themselves or knows someone who does.

After working on the SAW committee, I’ve realized that we, the vulnerable, suicidal kids, are more willing to fight the stereotype of the depressed, emo kid than those who make depression-themed Instagram accounts and relentlessly use “kill myself” or “kms” as a text response. I’ve recognized that those people are in the minority, and the ones struggling are sometimes just too quiet to be heard.

Now, I’m not silent. Now, I’m yelling about my experiences with suicide from the rooftop of the skyscraper—not from the edge. Each day, I work toward creating a safe environment where students can speak up without others burdening them with the weight of an unjust stereotype. The suicidal kid doesn’t have to be the one in the back of an obscure art class with piercings and dyed-blue bangs covering their eyes. It can be the “normal,” kid in an AP class with a smile on their face who never shuts their mouth.

I know, because that kid is me.

And because I stand up for myself, I’m still here.

We are consumed by our own grief of childhood left behind and a future shrouded in a mist of endless responsibilities.
—Lily Lashmet, grade 8, Odyssey Multiage Program, Bainbridge Island, Wash.

I didn’t stand for myself, but secretly, I wished someone else would.
—Elessar Beverly, grade 9, Chief Sealth International High School, Seattle, Wash.

He didn’t attempt suicide for attention. He just knows he doesn’t belong in his body, so how could he possibly belong in this world?
—Annie O’Brien, grade 11, Kirkwood High School, Kirkwood, Mo.

Men refer to their cars and boats with a female pronoun, making things they own female. So maybe this is part of why many men, strangers on the street, have felt this ownership of women’s bodies leading to this gross justification to follow, touch, and call at women and girls.
—Fiona Burgess, grade 10, Mount Madonna School, Watsonville, Calif.

To recognize injustice is to recognize vulnerability, and to recognize vulnerability is to do so from a place of security. As Carrie Heinze-Musgrove once stated, “What you allow you encourage.”
— Hannah Kennedy, Kent State University, Kent, Ohio

Each of these murders tended to be seen as coincidental moments. The silence from many members of the Black community was unexpected to me, though. There were small murmurs of outrage instead of roars of discontent.
—Madison Marsh, grade 10, Atlanta Girls School, Atlanta, Geo.

I thought I was too broken to help someone else, but it’s helping others that makes me brave and willing.
—Ireland Weaver, grade 8, Doris Miller Middle School, San Marcos, Texas

Walking the proverbial “mile in someone else’s shoes” is impossible, but walking a mile with someone is indispensable.
—Fraye Beyene, grade 11, Kirkwood High School, Kirkwood, Mo.

Whether said in jest or in blind hate, telling someone to shut up is an offense among the highest of insults … It says that their breath would be better used in their lungs than spoken to the air. It says, “My ears are closed, and your mouth should be too.”
—Joanna Griffin, Cascadia College, Bothell, Wash.

Because of his dementia, he keeps thinking he’s gonna go back to his old house. So, whenever I go to see him, he always has all of his clothes and belongings packed up in a suitcase. He’s always ready to go.
—Matthew Fish, grade 9, Marysville Charter Academy of the Arts, Marysville, Calif.

Sometimes what my teacher says comes in my mind and then flows out. My mind feels like a river; fish are swimming in the river and there’s a fisherman trying to catch them. The information comes in my head, but something keeps taking the information out over and over again.
—Yousef Shobokshi, grade 8, American International School of Jeddah, Jeddah, Saudi Arabia

We have to protect ourselves from ourselves. Nobody else can do it for us. We’re all in an awkward, vulnerable place right now. We need to band together. We need to listen to that conservative guy, understand him, and we need to understand what drives the audience to leave when they hear him.
—Jared Goudsmit, grade 11, Kirkwood High School, Kirkwood, MO

I’d like to be positive that if I was alive back when the Japanese were being taken away I would have done something. But I can’t be sure of that because I have not screamed at our president for his racist acts, and I have not gone against the boy’s pleas and called the cops on his father, and I have not changed the school system to invoke less anxiety.
—Sirma Hoffman, grade 9, Chief Sealth High School, Seattle, Wash.

I’m trying to live a fearless life, and I’m continually imploring everyone too, as well. Not because a particular deity is suggesting it, and not because we’re such altruistic, philanthropic people, but because our human responsibility demands being accountable for all our fellow humans. Accountability, meaning complete ownership of our kindness, support, as well as our ambivalence. I starkly believe that this is all it will take to produce an instantaneous paradigm shift.
—Scott Livingston Krause, Hartnell College, Soledad, Calif.

On the outside of the social pecking order at school, I could observe social life with ease. I did it a lot while contemplating the world. It was the only good thing about being an outsider.
—Abe Cole, grade 7, Woodward Middle School, Bainbridge Island, Wash.

How do we make a dent in such deep-seated contempt? How do we stand up against, in all honesty, ourselves? I don’t have all the answers, but I do have a first step: we must acknowledge the humanity and vulnerability of those we disagree with.
—Seth Wiseheart, grade 11, Kirkwood High School, Kirkwood, Mo.

Falak is living the average college student life: she binge watches Netflix, finishes assignments an hour before they’re due, wakes up late, and rushes to class in an overspilling cup of coffee; she’s normal. Or so it seems.
—Mehnaz Halima, Cascadia College, Snohomish, Wash.

My brothers deserve to be in a home, not a house. A home is somewhere you feel comfortable and you are loved and treated like a human. They don’t deserve to be in a house where they get used as pawns in a game.
—Jaydon Corpus, grade 9, San Marcos High School, San Marcos, Texas

I am the only child of Paul and Jessica Westbrook who has dark skin. At home, my mom and dad explain the facts of racial injustice and I can witness them anytime my dad and I walk into a store that sells anything worth stealing.
—Morgan Westbook, grade 9, Mount Madonna School, Watsonville, Calif.

I’m not brave. I’m afraid of spiders, rejection, and failure. I’m also afraid of being hated and afraid of dying. I’m especially afraid of judgment.
—Cameron Henry, grade 11, Kirkwood High School, Kirkwood, Mo.

Leonardo da Vinci once said,”Nothing strengthens authority so much as silence.” But how do I use my voice without taking away someone else’s?
—Charlie Hazel Pon, grade 8, Lake Washington Girls Middle School, Seattle, Wash.

Dear Adithi, Alexandria, Aly, Amber, Logan, and Ruby,

For the fall issue of YES!, I wrote an essay, “What Japanese Internment Taught Us About Standing Up for Our Neighbors.” It was about something that happened 75 years ago, President Roosevelt’s Executive Order 9066 that suspended civil liberties and imprisoned an entire class of people based on race. I wrote the essay because watching President Trump’s various executive orders banning Muslims from entering the country and rounding up and deporting Mexicans and was making me feel scared and angry.

I wanted to explore nidoto nai yoni. What it would take to “let it not happen again”? What can people do differently today to protect vulnerable neighbors. While my essay considered the importance of courageous community action, the essays I read from the YES! Student Writing Competition focused on individual strength. All the winning entries identified with oppression on a significantly personal level, as each of you heard a call to stand up for yourself as well as those in similar situations.

Ruby Rose Coney Wynne-Jones stood up for the unnoticed young people who struggle with dyslexia. And as a bisexual teenager, Alexandria Lutinski asks for others’ understanding. So does Aly Terry, who wants us to know that bipolar disorder affects 5.7 million Americans, and that they need our protection and patience.

After struggling with his own depression, Logan Bailey Crews took action at his high school to change attitudes there about mental illness. He’s doing that by creating a community of support, a particular version of standing up for his neighbors. And at her university, Amber Huff is giving just that sort of support, befriending a troubled student of color starting a new life, someone that others prejudged unfairly.

When Adithi Ramakrishnan felt her “otherness” in a visceral and public moment of racial discrimination, her response was personal. She is redefining her idea of protesting injustice. “For now, dissent means living my culture as boldly and loudly as possible.” 

I thank all of you for sharing your stories. You have broadened my own understanding of what it means to stand up to oppression.

In gratitude,

Tracy

#MeToo may seem like a heavy topic to unpack and discuss with students because it feels complex and uncomfortable, yet this issue impacts everyone. 

Thoughtfully talking about these controversial topics also cultivates critical thinking. 

This month’s “Let’s Talk About” feature explores the #MeToo movement and sexual harassment. With YES! stories and outside resources, plus discussion questions and curriculum, you and your students will learn about this topic from multiple angles.

In the end, we hope that this discussion will help students reflect on how students, staff, and administration treat each other in their school community. What does a school based on respect and dignity look like?

This is our second collection. We will post a new collection on a different topic on the first Thursday of each month. 

If you have ideas you’d like to share with other teachers or want to tell us how we could make this collection better, please share your thoughts in the comment section at the end of the article.

How to Use This Collection 

Suggested below are steps to a thoughtful and meaningful discussion with your students about the #MeToo movement—plus issues of sexual harassment and gender stereotypes.  Choose what is appropriate for your class.

1. Students complete a pre-survey (optional).
2. Choose at least one YES! article and one outside article for a robust compare and contrast.
3. Use the discussion questions—or craft your own—to gauge your students’ understanding and opinions.
4. Students complete a post survey (optional).
5. Explore curriculum if you’d like to dive deeper.

Reading Materials 

YES! Articles

 My Trouble with #MeToo 

Why Being a Good Guy Is Not Enough

Preventing Sexual Harassment Begins in Early Childhood

I Can’t Hate Keillor and Lauer If I Want to End the Patriarchy 

Outside Articles

 TIME Person of the Year 2017: The Silence Breakers (TIME Magazine)

Sexual harassment 101: what everyone needs to know (The Guardian)

Men paralyzed by #MeToo: Here’s why you need to speak up—and how (Quartz) 

Discussion Questions 

No doubt, there is lots to discuss about the #MeToo movement and the wave of sexual harassment and assault stories in the entertainment industry and in politics. Introductory questions to start a conversation are in the pre-and post-surveys. Here are a few questions to help you dive deeper into #MeToo’s bigger issues—sexual harassment, masculinity, gender stereotypes, abuse of power— and how they impact your students.

1. How are women treated by men today in the workplace? Is it basically the same, or different, than previous decades?

2. Why do you think so many women don’t report their sexual harassment or assault experiences? Why do you think so many women are coming out with their sexual harassment or assault stories now?

3. Does your school have problems with sexual harassment? How can students, teachers, and the administration create an environment where people feel secure they can report sexual harassment (or other forms of harassment) and treat each other with respect?

Curriculum 

Discussing sexual harassment with your students in a sensitive, nonpartisan way (PBS) 

Some teachers are hesitant to unpack and discuss contentious events like the Charlottesville protest with their students because it feels too overwhelming and upsetting. And there’s pressure from their administration and parent community to “stick to the curriculum.”

So how about this? You supply the courage. We’ll supply the resources that offer multiple perspectives—and get to the truth. We’re offering a collection of YES! stories and outside resources, plus discussion questions and curriculum, so you can have a thoughtful discussion with your students.

This is our first collection. We will post a new collection on a different topic on the first Thursday of each month. 

If you have ideas you’d like to share with other teachers or want to tell us how we could make this collection better, please share your thoughts in the comment section at the end of the article.

How to Use This Collection

Suggested below are steps to a thoughtful and meaningful discussion with your students about the protest in Charlottesville—plus related issues of media literacy, race, and hate. Choose what is appropriate for your class.

1.   Have students complete a pre-survey (optional)
2.  Choose at least one YES! article and one outside article for a robust compare and contrast
3.  Complete the discussion questions
4.  Have students complete a post survey (optional)
5.  Explore curriculum if you’d like to dive deeper

Reading Materials

YES! Articles

Charlottesville Was Not a “Protest Turned Violent.” It was a Planned Race Riot

 The Historical Falsehoods That Feed White Supremacy

My White Friend Asked Me on Facebook to Explain White Privilege. I Decided to Be Honest*

Confederate Statues have Been Invisible to Most White People

In Truth and Reconciliation, First Things First—The Truth

*Please be aware that explicit language is used in this story.

Outside Articles

A Guide to the Charlottesville Aftermath (The New York Times)

Fear of “violent left” preceded events in Charlottesville (The Washington Post)

Charlottesville Survivor: There’s No Question, This Was Terrorism (Truthout)

Discussion Questions

No doubt, there is lots to discuss about what happened in Charlottesville, and why it happened. Here are a few questions to help you dive deeper into the protest’s bigger issues—media literacy, race, bias, hate—and how they impact your students.

1. If you could speak with someone who participated in the Unite the Right protest, what would you tell them? What questions would you ask?

2. Why is it important to gather information from multiple sources when trying to understand contentious issues, such as Charlottesville?

3. Is there racial tension in your community or school? How do students, teachers, and the administration address race at your school?

Curriculum

Charlottesville Roundup: Lessons to Use in Your Classroom Today (Teaching Tolerance)

Students will read and respond to the YES! Magazine article, “‘They’ and the Emotional Weight of Words.”

In this article, Cole, founder of the Brown Boi Project, welcomes the expanding list of gender pronouns. Pronouns can help us all learn to see and respect each other’s identity. Instead of cultivating fear, shame, and embarrassment around not knowing the right thing to say, Cole encourages us to create new approaches to language so we feel freer and more open with each other.

Download lesson as a PDF.

YES! Magazine Article and Writing Prompt

Read the YES! Magazine article by Cole, “‘They’ and the Emotional Weight of Words.”

Writing Prompt:

Society is shifting from a binary “he-she” world to a more fluid spectrum of gender identities. As the story’s author Cole points out, pronouns can be the basis from which all of us learn to see and respect each other’s identity. Some people feel awkward or uncomfortable with this transition, asking questions like, “What’s with this ‘they’ thing?” Others find it freeing.

Students, please respond to the writing prompt below with an up-to-700-word letter to the author:
Is there anyone in your life—you included—who is not comfortable being referred to as “he” or “she”? Write a letter to Cole on how you feel about this expansion of gender pronoun language. How do you deal with this cultural change?

Writing Guidelines

The writing guidelines below are intended to be just that—a guide. Please adapt to fit your curriculum.

• Provide an original essay title

• Reference the article

• Limit the essay to no more than 700 words

• Pay attention to grammar and organization

• Be original. provide personal examples and insights

• Demonstrate clarity of content and ideas

• This writing exercise meets several Common Core State Standards for grades 6-12, including W. 9-10.3 and W. 9-10.14 for Writing, and RI. 9-10 and RI. 9-10.2 for Reading: Informational Text.*

*This standard applies to other grade levels. “9-10” is used as an examples.

Evaluation Rubric

Sample Essays

The essays below were selected as winners for the Spring 2017 Student Writing Competition. Please use them as sample essays or mentor text. The ideas, structure, and writing style of these essays may provide inspiration for your own students’ writing—and an excellent platform for analysis and discussion.

“A New Design for Language,” by Alex Gerber, grade 8. Read Alex’s essay about the social and grammatical limits of gender-neutral pronouns—and how to get beyond them.

“The Jintas of Conservative Korean Culture,” by Joanne Yang, grade 8. Read Joanne’s essay about how words should never be allowed to limit who we are.

“Language is a Many-Gendered Thing,” by Ella Martinez, grade 9. Read Ella’s essay about the challenges of using gender-neutral pronouns in a Puerto Rican American family.

“The Right to Be a Little Bit Rude,” by Madeleine Wise, grade 9. Read Madeleine’s essay about overcoming the discomfort of correcting people who use the wrong gender pronouns.

“The Thoughts and Struggle of a Two Spirit,” by Toby Greybear, grade 9. Read Toby’s essay, about embracing a new gender identity—and rediscovering a tradition.

“Existing Openly is Half the Battle,” by Avery Hunt, university. Read Avery’s essay about being the token nonbinary person at college while still learning about their own gender.

We Want to Hear From You!

How do you see this lesson fitting in your curriculum? Already tried it? Tell us—and other teachers—how the lesson worked for you and your students

Please leave your comments below, including what grade you teach.

Alex Gerber, an eighth grade student of Jessica Consiglio at Nichols Middle School in Evanston, IL, read and responded to the online YES! Magazine article, “’They’ and the Emotional Weight of Words.” In this article, Cole, founder of the Brown Boi Project, welcomes the expanding list of gender pronouns. Pronouns can help us all learn to see and respect each other’s identity. Instead of cultivating fear, shame, and embarrassment around not knowing the right thing to say, Cole encourages us to create new approaches to language so we feel freer and more open with each other.

Writing Prompt: Is there anyone in your life—you included—who is not comfortable being referred to as “he” or “she”? Write a letter to Cole on how you feel about this expansion of gender pronoun language. How do you deal with this cultural change?

A New Design For Language

Dear Cole,

My mother has a friend whose daughter has recently decided she does not associate with either gender. This switch seemed strange to me at first. I asked my mom what people who identify with both or neither genders are called. I know about transgendered people, but not identifying with a gender is new to me. My mother said this is called “genderfluid.” Okay, so now I know what genderfluid means, but what do I call that person?

“They” seems like an appropriate name to call everyone, so no one gets associated with the gender they do not identify with; however, I don’t know how this could become an international change. Would everyone switch to using “they”? It doesn’t seem possible. For example, in Spanish, “they” is either “ellos” or “ellas,” which implies male or female. How could all languages that have masculine and feminine pronouns for “they” switch to using one pronoun? I’m not saying I don’t want to change the language we use to accommodate people who are genderfluid; I just don’t know how likely it is to occur.

When I first read the part of the article where you talked about replacing gender-specific pronouns with words like “folks,” “peeps,” “homies,” and “fam,” I thought this was a good idea. These words are already used in this context when talking to others. For example, some people call their friend their “homie.” But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it wouldn’t work to call everyone by those names. Calling friends “peeps” or “homies” seems natural and normal, but I don’t know how practical these names would be when talking to someone professionally or to someone you are trying to treat with respect. For example, I wouldn’t feel comfortable saying to a teacher, “Hello, homie!”, and I don’t know how appropriate it would be for adults to call their bosses “peeps” or “fam.” Also, what about Mr., Miss, Mrs. and Ms.? Should all gender-specific pronouns be replaced with nongender-identifying pronouns like “ze” and “emself”?

Although it sounds like I am opposed to the idea of using “they,” I believe “they” could be the solution to the language issue for people who do not identify as male or female. It would help decrease the misgendering of genderfluid people. Maybe everyone could call people by nongender-associated names. I think the best answer to this problem would be to eliminate gender-specific language all together, but that is highly unlikely to happen. Maybe new words could be invented to avoid these gender barriers, but they might take a long time to integrate into our language.

As I continued to think about “they” replacing gender-specific pronouns, I started to notice that I frequently use “they” when talking about a specific person. For example, if I am asking a friend about what another person likes, I would say, “What do they like?” instead of, “What does she or he like?” When I think about it that way, this shift in language doesn’t seem so unattainable.

Thank you for writing the YES! Magazine article, “‘They’ and the Emotional Weight of Words.” Since I have read your article, I have been more aware of the language I use. I believe that there does need to be a change in the language we use so no one has to deal with the burden of being called the wrong pronoun. I wish all people could be conscious of what pronoun they use when talking to or about someone. After all, there are many things people cannot control in their lives, but their gender pronoun should not be one.

From,

Alex

The YES! National Student Writing Competition is an opportunity for middle school through university students to write about something meaningful, and a chance to write for a real audience—not just you, the teacher.

Each quarter, students are invited to read and write an essay on a selected YES! Magazine article. We divide contestants into four categories: middle school, high school, university, and Powerful Voice (for authors whose essays are powerful and passionate). Winning essays in each category are published on the YES! Magazine website and in our online education newsletter.

Register for the spring contest here. 

Sign up our YES! For Teachers newsletter to be notified about future student writing contests.

Click here for general information about the writing competition.

Read recent featured essays here.

________________________________

Gender Pronouns

This spring, students will read and respond to the YES! Magazine article, “’They’ and the Emotional Weight of Words.” In this article, Cole, founder of the Brown Boi Project, welcomes the expanding list of gender pronouns. Pronouns can help us all learn to see and respect each other’s identity. Instead of cultivating fear, shame, and embarrassment around not knowing the right thing to say, Cole encourages us to create new approaches to language so we feel freer and more open with each other.

The Writing Prompt

Society is shifting from a binary “he-she” world to a more fluid spectrum of gender identities. As the story’s author Cole points out, pronouns can be the basis from which all of us learn to see and respect each other’s identity. Some people feel awkward or uncomfortable with this transition, asking questions like, “What’s with this ‘they’ thing?” Others find it freeing.

Students, please respond to the writing prompt below with an up-to-700-word letter to the author:
Is there anyone in your life—you included—who is not comfortable being referred to as “he” or “she”? Write a letter to Cole on how you feel about this expansion of gender pronoun language. How do you deal with this cultural change?

Who is eligible?

• You must be a classroom teacher—homeschool cooperative, resource centers, supervised writing groups, and schools outside the U.S. included—for your students to participate.
• Student writers should be in grades 6-8, grades 9-12, college/university, or adult continuing education.

How does it work?

• Complete and send the competition registration form by March 3, 2017 (see link at bottom of page).
• Students respond to the YES! article with an essay up to 700 words.
• Submit up to three essays per class period, along with student release forms, by April 18, 2017.
• For each of the following categories, YES! staff will select one essay that we feel is well-written, compelling, and captures the spirit of the article:
o Middle School (Grades 6-8)
o High School (Grades 9-12)
o College/university
o Powerful Voice (for an author whose essay is uniquely powerful or thought-provoking)
• The selected essays will be featured on the YES! Magazine website and in our online education newsletter, reaching thousands of YES! readers, including over 16,000 teachers.

Common Core State Standards

This writing competition meets several Common Core State Standards for grades 6-12, including W.9-10.3 and W.9-10.4 for Writing, and RI.9-10.1 and RI.9-10.2 for Reading: Informational Text *
*This standard applies to other grade levels. “9-10” is used as an example.

What are the essay requirements?

• Respond to the article and writing prompt provided by YES!
• Provide an original essay title
• Reference the article
• No more than 700 words
• Must be original, unpublished words
• Teachers must read and submit their students’ essays. Remember, the limit is three essays per class period. Please take time to read your students’ essays to ensure they have met essay requirements, including correct grammar. Unfortunately, we cannot accept essays sent independently by students.

In addition, we are evaluating essays for (see rubric at bottom of page):
• Grammar
• Organization
• Strong style and personal voice. We encourage writers to include personal examples and insights.
• Originality and clarity of content and ideas

How do I submit the three best essays from my class?

• You must be registered for the contest by March 3rd.
• E-mail your three best student essays as word-processed document attachments (please convert your Google Docs to Word if you can, and please no pdf or scanned documents) to writingcompetition@yesmagazine.org no later than April 18th.
• Include a scanned, completed student release form
with each submitted essay. Please make sure student email addresses are legible and visible—preferably typed. NOTE: Submit all student essays by April 18, even if there are missing release forms since we will be evaluating essays the next day. You may send completed releases at your soonest convenience.

Forms You’ll Need:

Registration Form
Student Release Form
Evaluation Rubric

Questions? Please email writingcompetition@yesmagazine.org

Thank you for joining us!

Ella Martinez, a ninth grade student of Camille Napier-Bernstein at Natick High School in Natick, Mass., read and responded to the online YES! Magazine article, “’They’ and the Emotional Weight of Words.” In this article, Cole, founder of the Brown Boi Project, welcomes the expanding list of gender pronouns. Pronouns can help us all learn to see and respect each other’s identity. Instead of cultivating fear, shame, and embarrassment around not knowing the right thing to say, Cole encourages us to create new approaches to language so we feel freer and more open with each other.

Writing Prompt: Is there anyone in your life—you included—who is not comfortable being referred to as “he” or “she”? Write a letter to Cole on how you feel about this expansion of gender pronoun language. How do you deal with this cultural change?

Language is a Many-Gendered Thing

Dear Cole,

As someone who has recently started asking people in my life to refer to me using the pronouns “they/them/theirs,” I was interested in your views on language in the YES! Magazine article “‘They’ and the Emotional Weight of Words,” particularly your idea that there’s more to it than language.

I identify as genderfluid. Some days I feel female, other days I feel male, and there are days where I’m entirely apathetic about gender. When people ask why, the conversation can start to get confusing. Older people especially seem to rely on gender pronouns to provide information, but that can be problematic if I don’t want to be labeled. The expanding language regarding gender is a great movement towards self-expression; however, I have felt this shift create a divide.

When I came out to my grandmother as queer, she didn’t understand what I meant. English isn’t even her first language: she and my father came to New England from Puerto Rico in 1971. I had never stopped to consider that she wouldn’t be able to understand what I was trying to communicate based solely on the grammar. In Spanish, pronouns are binary. Even the pronouns for “they” have feminine forms (ellas) and masculine forms (ellos). Ella, my name, is often mistaken for the Spanish pronoun “she,” as well. If I were to tell my grandmother that I’m not a girl, and I’m not a boy— that I’m not a she or a he—she would simply not understand. To her I am Ella (and ella).

Although I know that there is a large LGBTQIA+ community back in Puerto Rico, it only recently started emerging and gaining some attention. My grandmother left the country long before it developed, so she has no foundation for discussing these issues. Her lack of knowledge and understanding is what holds me back from talking about queer issues, so I feel even more separate from her. I want to communicate effectively because I love her—and I want her to understand—but it’s just too complex to explain. I came out to her as a lesbian last year. Changing my sexuality and gender now would only confuse her further.

I also feel a divide between my parents and me. They tread very lightly on topics surrounding my identity and sometimes hesitate to ask questions. When they do, I am often unable to give them solid answers for many reasons: because of the fluidity of gender and sexuality, because of my questioning of traditional gender roles, and because of their ignorance about the complex terminology queer people use to describe themselves.

Normally, in parent-child relationships, parents give children advice and information based on their own experiences. In my family, though, the situation is switched: my parents don’t have any experiences with the community I’m a part of, so I find myself being the “parent,” trying to help them navigate my world. And, since none of my own labels are concrete—I am only 15, after all—I hesitate to tell my parents what I am.

I’ve called myself many different things: bisexual, queer, lesbian, demigirl, genderqueer, and genderfluid. I’ve chosen genderfluid instead of genderqueer or nonbinary, because I feel like it gives me room to explore, room to grow. I’ve had to be clear that I reserve the right to change as I discover new things about myself. This fluidity is also something my parents really don’t understand. They see labels as lifelong descriptions and view gender and sexuality in binaries (male and female, straight and gay). They try hard to learn, but they were born in a different time, raised in a different way. I actually chose “they/them/theirs” as my preferred pronoun instead of “xe/xem/xyrs” because these words are known by all English speakers. I figured that it would be easier for them to transition using words they already know.

New languages surrounding gender can be freeing for some and confusing for others. What I can do as a queer young person is use this language, preach the importance of pronouns, and teach the older people in my life about the new concepts of gender and how they connect with words. I hope that as new generations grow into adults, the modern way of speaking and queer culture will become more mainstream and that we’ll be able to achieve a society where gender is asked not assumed and where correct pronouns are a priority.

Sincerely,
Ella Martinez

Avery Hunt, a student of Margaret Chapman at Elon University in Elon, N.C., read and responded to the online YES! Magazine article, “’They’ and the Emotional Weight of Words.” In this article, Cole, founder of the Brown Boi Project, welcomes the expanding list of gender pronouns. Pronouns can help us all learn to see and respect each other’s identity. Instead of cultivating fear, shame, and embarrassment around not knowing the right thing to say, Cole encourages us to create new approaches to language so we feel freer and more open with each other.

Writing Prompt: Is there anyone in your life—you included—who is not comfortable being referred to as “he” or “she”? Write a letter to Cole on how you feel about this expansion of gender pronoun language. How do you deal with this cultural change?

Existing Openly is Half the Battle

Dear Cole,

I used the pronoun “she” throughout high school— the same one my parents have been using for me since I was born. Yes, I was in a liberal and open-minded town, one that allowed me to change my name on the school roster months before my legal name change went through. But somehow, switching to “they/them” pronouns felt like a step too far. It wouldn’t be safe, and a large part of me was afraid of that. When I accepted my university’s offer of admission, there was a little box that said “preferred pronouns.” I closed the tab and ignored it for two days, unsure of what to write. I didn’t want to be stuck with pronouns that I didn’t identify with, but my university was in the South, notorious for being unaccepting of people who don’t fit its norms. I was still afraid. In the end, I took a leap and picked what made me comfortable: “they/them.”

You talked about this leap and the concept that we as gender-nonconforming people have to come to peace with “our authentic selves.” I like that you identified it as a process, as something that would “eventually” happen over time. I think people are so often caught up in trying to come to terms with the new terminology that they forget the language is new to the people using it as well. For almost everyone I’ve met at college, I’m the first person they’ve ever interacted with who uses the pronouns “they/them.” I’ve accepted my role as the token nonbinary person, and I’ve grown accustomed to explaining my gender to people who haven’t had the opportunity to learn about it in-depth. But I’m still learning about it myself.

For the first month of college, my friends reminded faculty—more often than I did— to call me “they,” not “she.” I was used to hearing “she,” so nothing sounded wrong to me when my professors addressed me by the feminine pronoun. It is only in the last two months or so that being called “she” has started sounding weird to me, much in the same way that incorrect grammar sounds strange to native speakers of a language. It takes me a minute to identify why it feels wrong, but I am immediately certain that it is.

This is why patience is such an important part of being the default teacher in a community. Truly, as you remark, we must have “no expectation” of people knowing our preferred pronouns. Visible nonbinary and trans people are at the forefront of a new world, and we’re paving the roads as we’re walking them. To “demand to be seen” in this current age is to accept that we will always be teaching people terminology and complex topics of gender and sexuality.

While Navajo and Jewish cultures, along with others, have understood for centuries that there are more than two genders, modern America still struggles to figure out what bathroom I should be allowed to use—never mind how many bathrooms there should be and with what labels. I will always be explaining, and I will always be fighting for the acceptance that so many other people take for granted. Being visible in modern America is a form of activism in and of itself. When we’re fighting to prove our right to exist as we are, existing openly is half of the battle.

I’m frequently uncomfortable writing openly about this because I sound like a martyr. I’m not self-sacrificing; I am who I need to be, and I feel like you understand that. I exist and I fight and I teach so that the next person at my university who makes the decision to choose the pronoun “they/them” on their acceptance letter will have less of a struggle. I do this so that they will have at least one professor or fellow student who, when faced with their pronouns, will accept them without asking questions. So that they may encounter people who normalize their existence. So that there will hopefully be one less person to whom they have to explain the concept of the gender spectrum, and where they fit in. I’m here with you to do my part to “challenge old language” and concepts.

I have to be.

Regards,
Avery Hunt

Toby Greybear, a ninth grade student of Carly Hosford-Israel at Poplar High School in Poplar, Mont., read and responded to the online YES! Magazine article, “’They’ and the Emotional Weight of Words.” In this article, Cole, founder of the Brown Boi Project, welcomes the expanding list of gender pronouns. Pronouns can help us all learn to see and respect each other’s identity. Instead of cultivating fear, shame, and embarrassment around not knowing the right thing to say, Cole encourages us to create new approaches to language so we feel freer and more open with each other.

Writing Prompt: Is there anyone in your life—you included—who is not comfortable being referred to as “he” or “she”? Write a letter to Cole on how you feel about this expansion of gender pronoun language. How do you deal with this cultural change?

The Thoughts and Struggle of a Two-Spirit

Dear Cole,

I have never felt more alone in the world than when I was thirteen years old and questioning my gender.

From a young age, gender roles were unrelentingly reinforced on me. I have a twin brother, so that meant he wore blue, and I wore pink. He was the boy, I was the girl — no questions. From early on in my life, if normal didn’t feel normal, the repetition would remind me.

Finally, at thirteen years old, I questioned how I felt about gender. I already knew my sexuality—I was pansexual, and I accepted it—but I questioned how I felt about pronouns. I noticed how odd it is that society forces dresses and bows on girls as soon as they are born and encourages sharp jaw lines and unrestrained anger from boys. I was caught in this complex limbo, struggling between rejecting my feelings and embracing a fuller understanding and acceptance of who I was. Regardless of how I felt inside, I was still addressed as “she” and “her.” In that vulnerable state, the negative mindset I had towards those pronouns amplified.

And I was so, so angry. I was angry I had to acknowledge my gender dysphoria, and angry I let myself linger in the seemingly perpetual space of unknowing. I kept returning to society’s assumption: You were born a girl, so you should accept being called “she/her.” This temporary conclusion always lulled my mind and quieted my thoughts to a removed and dull white noise. All I ever wanted to say was, “I don’t know.” I didn’t know who I was, and sometimes, I still don’t. But not knowing isn’t an acceptable answer for society.

I could barely comprehend my gender, but when people would ask me about it, I would reply with what I had rehearsed many, many times: “I’m a girl.” I would lie. Because if there was anything I was sure about, it was that I did not identify as a girl in any sense of the word. I didn’t identify as anything. I was just me.

In my culture, people who do not fit within the gender binary are called “Two Spirit.” My people, the Dakota and Lakota, acknowledge that people do not always fit within norms and boundaries, and that is okay—even sacred. They were seen as people who had both female and male souls, and could fulfill both roles.

As a Native American, I wish I had known about this term sooner in my life. I never grew up with my culture’s influence, so I was ignorant of the word until I moved to a reservation, where I looked more deeply into spiritual practices. I wish I had willingly embraced my culture earlier. Instead, by rejecting any semblance of Native culture, I let myself be acculturated into Eurocentric thinking. If I had spent time exploring my own culture, maybe I would’ve been okay with myself at age thirteen.

Now, at fifteen years old, I still question my gender. Sometimes people refer to me with the pronouns “they/them,” and I never find myself wanting to correct them. Even if I did ask others to address me with “he/him,” something I’m still reluctant to do out of fear. There would still be words lingering behind my teeth, way back in my throat, wanting to say, “I also go by ‘they/them.’”

Recently, I met another kid my age who questioned their gender, and went by “they/them.” They asked us to call them Kyle, and I met them on a school trip. Kyle was upbeat, funny, and very friendly. I instantaneously felt a surge of relief and familiarity. It was my first time meeting them, but they immediately understood. They knew how I felt: the curiosity and the questioning, the discomfort of having to fit within a narrow box, a black and white binary that didn’t need to exist in the first place.

At thirteen years old, I felt alone. My questions were not encouraged, and the concept of not having to go by “him” or “her” was foreign to me.

At fifteen years old, I embrace myself. My curiosity is welcomed. I am transgender and I accept it. I do not want to follow society’s standards of normal because they are not my standards, my Dakota and Lakota Two-Spirit standards. And that is okay.

Best,
Toby

Madeleine Wise, a ninth grade student of Camille Napier-Bernstein at Natick High School in Natick, MA, read and responded to the online YES! Magazine article, “’They’ and the Emotional Weight of Words.” In this article, Cole, founder of the Brown Boi Project, welcomes the expanding list of gender pronouns. Pronouns can help us all learn to see and respect each other’s identity. Instead of cultivating fear, shame, and embarrassment around not knowing the right thing to say, Cole encourages us to create new approaches to language so we feel freer and more open with each other.

Writing Prompt: Is there anyone in your life—you included—who is not comfortable being referred to as “he” or “she”? Write a letter to Cole on how you feel about this expansion of gender pronoun language. How do you deal with this cultural change?

The Right to be a Little Bit Rude

Dear Cole,

I admire your dedication to spreading knowledge about the sensitive subject of gender. In your YES! article “‘They’ and the Emotional Weight of Words,” I agree with what you said about politely correcting people instead of “checking” them, but I feel like this isn’t as easy as you make it seem.

You see, most people are raised with an aversion to correcting others. They tend to feel that it’s not their place to call someone out, or even to gently remind them of a mistake they made, especially when talking with adults or superiors. This is a norm that mostly goes unquestioned, but it can create barriers, especially for people who feel like they are asking for too much in the first place. This socialized politeness is a problem for people who use the pronouns “they/them” and have self-esteem issues.

I remember when several friends of mine came out to me as nonbinary. They all said something along the lines of: “I prefer “they/them” pronouns, but my old pronouns are fine.” The majority of them didn’t really mean it; however, they were afraid that I would find it rude if they were more assertive. This hesitancy causes a miscommunication. Friends or family members may misunderstand the importance of using the proper pronouns and get away with misgendering because “enbies” (a slang term for nonbinary people) don’t feel like they have the right to interject.

Unfortunately, people are always going to misgender others—it would be unrealistic to think otherwise. Like you said, no one can expect people to know their pronouns at first glance. What we need to do is create an environment in which nonbinary people (all trans people, really) feel like they have the right to correct others when they do get misgendered—and raise a generation that feels comfortable asking someone’s pronouns before assuming. This would require a higher level of respect and better education on topics like gender and identity, but these are things everybody can help work towards in one way or another.

Sometimes, we need to step up in someone’s defense when fighting for their preferred pronouns becomes too much. One of my friends, an enby by the name of Sage, finds it extremely exhausting to explain their identity to new people all the time. So my friends and I are at their beck and call. At a recent party with plenty of their more distant relatives, we formed the “Sage Protection Squad.” One of us was with Sage at all times, so that if anyone was out of the loop, we could fill them in. Alternatively, if anyone refused to get in the loop, we could come at them with a croquet mallet of grammar (I’m only slightly kidding).

Of course, the best teachers on this subject are nonbinary people themselves. If we shout over them, we’re defeating the purpose entirely. What we should be doing is (red) carpeting the runway to the stage so our enby friends can take the mic. An ally’s job is to give enby friends whatever they need in order to stay strong through adversity. We have to work together to create the world we want to live in. No one can do it on their own.

Sincerely,
Madeleine Wise

Joanne Yang, an eighth grade student of Brice Lee at Seoul International School in Seoul, South Korea, read and responded to the online YES! Magazine article, “’They’ and the Emotional Weight of Words.” In this article, Cole, founder of the Brown Boi Project, welcomes the expanding list of gender pronouns. Pronouns can help us all learn to see and respect each other’s identity. Instead of cultivating fear, shame, and embarrassment around not knowing the right thing to say, Cole encourages us to create new approaches to language so we feel freer and more open with each other.

Writing Prompt: Is there anyone in your life—you included—who is not comfortable being referred to as “he” or “she”? Write a letter to Cole on how you feel about this expansion of gender pronoun language. How do you deal with this cultural change?

The Jintas of Conservative Korean Culture

Dear Cole,

Frankly, when I first read your article, I had no context to understand it at all. The issue of language pronouns is completely alien to me, since there are no actual words in Korean to describe people in the LGBTQ+ community. There are only romanized versions of them which are seldom—in fact, almost never— used.

Even though I was sympathetic towards LGBTQ+ causes, your YES! article, “‘They’ and the Emotional Weight of Words,” made me realize how little I understood about LGBTQ+ people’s dilemmas and the negative effects of society forcing them into limiting categories. In Korea, all the issues you have addressed are latent, neglected, and invisible in the eyes of many people, including mine.

Your article was a wake-up call for me that the LGBTQ+ movement for full acceptance is almost nonexistent in Korea. I became disheartened when I realized how far Korea lags behind other nations in supporting LGBTQ+ issues. As one of the most Confucian societies in the world, we adhere strictly to gender norms. Quite simply, women are expected to be feminine and men are expected to be masculine. In fact, the only Korean cultural event that celebrates LGBTQ+ acceptance is called the Korea Queer Culture Festival. I had never heard of it before reading your article. I felt even more sympathy towards Korean LGBTQ+ people when I learned that people involved in the festival wear masks to hide their identities.

I am ashamed to say that it would be almost inconceivable for a single Korean person I know to identify as transgender because it would trigger so much fear and embarrassment. Even if someone were to come out openly as gay, he or she would be ridiculed with the common Korean slang jinta (찐따). This word is used to mock or marginalize people as different, peculiar, and uncommon, and it has devastating power in Korean culture. The mere mention of being labeled jinta can completely—and permanently— ostracize you from society.

I grasped the true power of this word in high school when my friend was shunned for being too “masculine.” She is still known as the ultimate jinta simply because she preferred soccer over gossiping and baggy jeans over skirts. As soon as one person characterized her as a jinta, it was as if there was a tacit and invisible agreement among all students not to interact with her, lest they be categorized as a jinta as well. This may seem like an innocuous example of high school bullying, but it is a reflection of a deeply entrenched part of our culture that has an almost Orwellian kind of control over what types of individual behavior and actions are acceptable in Korean society.

All this exemplifies the primary reason why people choose to conform in Korea and emphasizes the impact even one word can have on what people think of themselves. If one word can change how people think and feel about their identity, then we should enlarge the scope of them so that we are more inclusive.

Reading your article opened my eyes and inspired me to learn more about LGBTQ+ people and bring awareness to this cultural cause in Korea. It even motivated me to look at myself differently. Our identities do not always fit in a narrow “gendered box” as you mention in your article, and people like my friend should not have to face discrimination because of this.

Language is constantly evolving and plays a large role in defining us and how we perceive each other. When gender pronouns are too limited, we unnecessarily limit ourselves and fail to see how truly nuanced and malleable we actually are. The strict options of “she” or “he” prevent us from understanding and connecting with each other on a deeper level.

In society, and especially in conservative countries like Korea, we must broaden our language to include more gender pronouns to allow people to define themselves however they like. Words should never be allowed to limit who we are.

Sincerely,
Joanne

“Matching the Outside with the In”
—Cierra Mattos, grade 10, Westerly High School, Westerly, R.I.

Sex is what you are born as. It is the identification on your driver’s license or birth certificate. But gender is a wide range of different identities, and although it might be hard for some to comprehend, there is a wonderful feeling of belonging that comes with it…To elaborate, sex is what is on paper documents and what not, and gender basically says, “Screw you, documents!”
—Ava Forand, grade 8, King Philip Middle School, West Hartford, Conn.

As of right now, if you type “they” as a pronoun for a singular person in a Microsoft Word document, the automatic grammar corrector will ask you to change it to “he” or “she.”
—Raquel Galiano, Spring Hill College, Mobile, Ala.

A few months ago, my friend and I were messing around after school, sliding across a frozen lake, when they turned to me and said, “I don’t feel like a boy.” I stopped and looked at them with their longish hair, purple nails, and favorite octopus earrings. “Okay,” I said. “Do you want me to refer to you as she?” They shook their head. “I don’t always feel like a girl either,” I simply nodded and hugged them.
—Renée Smith, grade 11, Great River School, St. Paul, Minn.

The “gendered box” you speak of is visible in everyday life in Japan: in the university bathrooms where countless girls perfect their flawless makeup; on the trains where groups of schoolgirls cover their mouths when they smile so as to appear more feminine, and salarymen return home late from hours of overtime; in the classrooms where the hypermasculine atmosphere dominates; in fashion where kawaii (cute) culture is the ideal; in everyday conversations where different words for ‘I’ and ‘yes’ are allocated according to gender, where certain expressions are labeled as too ‘masculine’ for women to use appropriately.
—Anna Ellis-Rees, University of Cambridge, Cambridge (UK)

Immersed in a community of mainly Asian immigrants, most of my friends’ families share similar values and ideas—negative connotations about the LGBTQ+ community. If my friends and I aren’t even allowed to paint our nails, how would our parents feel if we suddenly came out one day as LGBTQ+?

—Judy Zhou, grade 9, Centennial High School, Ellicott City, Md.

With each new technological invention, a new word comes into existence. For example, the word “selfie” became a dictionary recognized word with the emergence of cell phone cameras. If we are fine with creating new words and changing definitions for words that describe objects or actions, we can do the same for people.
—Dot Brown, Spring Hill College, Mobile, Ala.

Being told they were supposed to act a certain way strictly based on genitals caused them a great deal of pain… It made them feel like they were an actor in a movie they didn’t belong to.
—Egypt Moujid, grade 11, Great River School, St. Paul, Minn.

Trying to avoid the embarrassing name-calling like “faggot” and “queer” from the kids I grew up with made it hard to be true to who I was. I understand this isn’t exactly what you are referring to in your article, but it isn’t just about pronouns—it shares the idea of someone calling you something you don’t feel like inside. While I knew I was attracted to men, it wasn’t until someone referred to me using one of these slang terms that I felt dirty and as if there was something wrong with me, or I was doing something wrong.
—Brandon Bowers, Lane Community College, Eugene, Ore.

She dresses like a woman and portrays herself as one, but her physical appearance only does as much as she can hope. People still call her ‘sir’ or refer to her as ‘him,’ and even though she politely corrects them, it still kills her on the inside because no matter how hard she tries, she is not ‘woman enough.’

—Heidi Reyes, Spring Hill College, Mobile, Ala.

In a world where tragedy, violence, and loneliness roots itself into the everyday; where authentic community feels sparse; where a clear distinction between reality and artificiality is lacking, the least one can do is show love and respect to those one encounters.
—Emily Thomas, Kent State University, Kent, Ohio.

Honestly, I never knew what I was until I found out online that I don’t have to be either, which was like heaven.
—Toni Gonzalez, grade 11, Social Justice Humanitas Academy, San Fernando, Calif.

Thank you Alex, Avery, Ella, Joanne, Madeleine, and Toby. I’m honored that you were inspired to respond, wrestle, and connect with the piece I wrote. We are living in ever-shifting times of gender that I believe will unleash so much growth. Your work highlights the challenges of living in these “in-between times,” when we often grapple with new language and new concepts. As we still cling to what feels familiar and, at times, certain.

There is no one framework or set of terms that will do this moment justice. What we do know is that the rigid boxes we craft for people to fit their gender into are not just dated but leave out so much of the beauty and complexity with which people live their lives. Language is an extension of culture, of our communities and families. It is critical that we begin to engage with it in everyday ways so that we can—as Avery makes the case—exist. But also because this is the way we change society. We reshape culture, and our language follows. It becomes the frame for our lived experience.

It will take many more courageous conversations before that happens, but you have seized the opportunity to breathe depth into my piece. Thank you for your perspective and stories. It was a pleasure to read them. Hopefully my reflections below add to the ongoing conversation.

Alex, you’re absolutely right in recognizing how difficult culture shifts are. There’s something very powerful in trying to imagine how change can be implemented, and I encourage you to continue to read and imagine because this world needs people that are capable of creating new words and new culture paradigms. I believe that the point you made in realizing how often you already use the word ‘they’ in reference to others is a powerful note, as well. I believe it illustrates that even though change is indeed difficult and requires a lot of time and energy, we are also constantly changing and growing. We just don’t always realize it.

Avery, thank you so much for your courage. It is absolutely an uncomfortable process to push ourselves to present our authentic self to a society that very rarely is able to handle difference and vulnerability in a way that is celebratory. There’s so much work to be done, and it’s going to take each and every one of us to move towards a world in which we are a little more comfortable being present. It’s heartwarming to hear that my experience resonates with yours, and that you’re willing to carry this responsibility of helping others see you in your most authentic self. There’s also something very powerful that you said that I wanted to highlight: how your work to be authentic will help others be authentic as well. Leading by example and paving roads for those that come after you is such important work.

Ella, it can be difficult to bridge the divide between this American culture and the cultures our immigrant families grew up in. I would encourage you to push through the discomfort, because the reality is that our families have sexualities and genders of their own, and they’ve been deprived the access and the tools to theorize and explore their gender and sexuality the way you and I have been allowed to. What I’ve learned in my time is that the disconnect between one generation to the next is not one that necessarily stems from ignorance or a lack of willingness to learn, but rather is a product of capitalism, white supremacy, and colonialism. Regardless, it is difficult to feel so alienated from the people you’ve known your whole life, and the struggle you are managing is hard to bear. It sounds like you’re putting in a lot of thought to understand yourself and those around you, and that is work that nourishes you all.

Joanne, I really love what you said in your closing, “Words should never be allowed to limit us and who we are allowed to be.” Language can play such a huge role in how we relate to each other, even when the words are not uttered out loud. Language can even inform how we theorize and approach situations that we are uncomfortable in. While it is important to recognize the gaps and privileges we carry, feeling shame around these gaps is unnecessary and not something that helps those who need your support. I encourage you, to feel motivated instead of feeling shame, and feel as if the knowledge you’ve gained (and will continue to gain) is presenting you with an opportunity to strive to be a better, more authentic version of yourself. Our authenticity is not solely tied to how we make ourselves feel good, but also to how we show up for those who need support from us.

Madeleine, you’re absolutely right. Society has conditioned those already on the margins (women, LGBTQ-identified individuals, POC, people with disabilities, etc) to hesitate asking for what they need, and making it known that they want their boundaries to be seen and respected. Can we boldly express that our needs are valid without shaming people? Shame does not foster learning or change—and call-out culture does disservice to our community when people are told off for unintentional harm. I think the “Sage Protection Squad” that you offered as an example is a perfect balance. The squad alleviates the burden of challenging and correcting ignorant or malicious people, and also moves away from call-out culture since you ask them to join you in supporting and validating your friend Sage.

Toby, it’s incredible to hear how much you’ve been able to discover about yourself and your ancestors in such a short amount of time. You’re right that this binary is unnecessary, and it’s clear from your story how critical it is that we strive to rebuild connections that were erased through colonialism. Our ancestors held a great pool of knowledge that I am confident would aid us in our struggle for justice. It’s heartwarming to hear that you’re moving towards healing your relationship with yourself, and that you are slowly finding others that can help you with that journey.

In gratitude and struggle,
Cole

Images, photos, and pictures stimulate the mind. For the viewer, they offer a chance to connect and question. They also offer potential for play and imagination, and pulling the observer into purposeful messages.

Most often, newspaper and magazine readers take a quick glance at photos and their captions. With this YES! lesson plan, you and your students can luxuriate—and pause—to truly understand an image, its message, and why it’s interesting (or not).

Download this lesson as a PDF.

Step 1: What do you notice?

Ask your students to make sense of the photograph by trusting their instincts of observation and inference. In doing so, the image offers possibilities and interpretations beyond a typical reading where the reader glances at a photograph to reinforce its title or caption. Do not introduce any facts, captions, or other written words. In response to the question “What do you notice?” you may hear: Distressed black rubber; blue, orange and red nylon; messy pile of trash; bits of dirt.

Step 2: What are you wondering?

After you’ve heard your students’ first observations, you may hear a peppering of questions: Why are these things dumped in a pile? What were they used for? Can they be used again? Is anyone going to clean this up? Is there a sad story behind this?

This is a good time to reveal the photo’s caption and other information about the photo. Watch how the conversation shifts from what they believe to be true to discerning the facts about the photo.

Photo Caption:
Life jackets and pieces of inflatable boats—used to transport refugees across the Aegean Sea—are discarded on the shore of the Greek island of Lesbos (February 2017). Most of these life jackets are cheap fakes filled with packing foam, sponge, or newspaper, and provided by smugglers from Turkey.

Photo by André Kamber.

Photo Facts:

• According to the UN Refugee Agency, refugees are persons fleeing armed conflict or persecution, crossing national borders to seek safety in nearby countries. Migrants choose to move not because of a direct threat of persecution or death, but mainly to improve their lives by finding work or education opportunities, and reuniting with family. 

• In June 2016, there were over 65 million displaced people in the world—about the same as the population of Canada, Australia, and New Zealand combined. 

• More displaced people travel through Lesbos than almost any other place in the world because the island is one of the closest points in Europe to the Middle East. The risks of the 18-mile journey from Turkey to Lesbos—which takes one to eight hours, depending on weather conditions—include being turned around by the Turkish Coast Guard, being robbed by pirates, or drowning when an overcrowded boat capsizes.

• In 2016, an average of 14 people died every single day crossing the Mediterranean to find safety or a better life in Europe. The chances of dying on the route from Libya to Italy are 10 times higher than on the Turkey to Greece passage.  

• Crossing to Europe in a smuggler’s boat can cost up to €1,000—more than twice the price of an airplane ticket from Lebanon to London. A smuggler in Istanbul can make $20,000 in a busy month—more than twenty times what the average Turkish citizen earns. 

• The island of Lesbos is the birthplace of the famous Greek poet Sappho (630-570 BCE). She is thought to have written more than 10,000 lines of poetry, which many later Greek poets, including Homer, studied. Sappho’s love for other women inspired the modern term “lesbian.”

Additional resources:

EXPLORE: Understanding the Global Refugee Crisis (lesson plan and resources)
WATCH: Migrant crisis ‘overwhelming’ Greek island of Lesbos
READ: UNHCR’s profiles of refugees from around the world 
LISTEN: British-Somali poet Warsan Shire reads her poem “Home,” about refugees

Step 3: What next?

1. Imagine you and your family had to abandon your home or leave your country—by foot or by boat. What would you take that you could carry? Where would you go? Describe how this forced departure might feel.

2. Human trafficking—transporting people illegally between countries—is a crime, but smugglers say they are giving desperate people a shot at a better life. Is it ethical to smuggle migrants and refugees across national borders? If a Syrian refugee dies crossing the Aegean Sea to Lesbos, who is to blame? Who has the responsibility to protect migrants and refugees?

3. Volunteering abroad in places like Lesbos is becoming more popular. Despite good intentions, sometimes “do good” volunteering isn’t effective. Have you volunteered to help disadvantaged people in your community or abroad? What motivated you (or people you know) to volunteer? How was the experience for you? For the community? What does ethical volunteering look like to you?

4. The European Union has built walls, erected fences, and capped visas to keep migrants out. The U.S. takes similar measures to secure its borders. Why are developed countries motivated to bar certain people from entering? Describe how immigrants are part of your school or community. Are they welcome? What challenges might immigration create for communities and governments?

Rethinking Schools curriculum editor Bill Bigelow and high school teacher Tim Swinehart are the masterminds behind the nation’s first comprehensive climate literacy policy, which was passed by the Portland Public Schools school board in May 2016.  They had enough of too many textbooks discrediting or minimizing the effects of climate change. 

The two educators are also co-authors of A People’s Curriculum for the Earth. It is a collection of stories, poems, activities, and role-plays that gives students honest insights into the people and places affected by climate change. Articles on solutionaries who are working for climate justice are also included to inspire and replicate.

We offer two free downloadable lessons from A People’s Curriculum for the Earth.

• Climate Change Mixer is an engaging introductory lesson on climate change—and empathy. In this activity, students meet one another in character—17 individuals around the world who are affected by climate change. Some are forced to leave home, while others profit from this business opportunity.
• Don’t Take Our Voices Away is a role-playing opportunity where students learn how indigenous people are confronting the effects of climate change. In this activity, they will work together to develop a common list of demands to present at the Indigenous People’s Global Summit on Climate Change.

A People’s Curriculum for the Earth is available for $24.95 at the Rethinking Schools website. The book offers over 100 articles, activities, and role-plays, in addition to teaching ideas.

And, if you’re interested in making climate change part of your school district’s curriculum, here’s a Climate Justice Resource Kit that includes a copy of the resolution passed by the Portland Public Schools school board, organizing tips, and news coverage about the significance of this landmark policy. The YES! Magazine article “Portland Public Schools First to Put Global Climate Justice in the Classroom,” also reports on highlights of the pilot program’s inaugural year at Portland’s Lincoln High School.

Bill Bigelow is the curriculum editor for Rethinking Schools magazine and co-directs the Zinn Education Project. Bill taught high school social studies for almost 30 years in Portland, Oregon. He is the author or co-editor of numerous books, including Rethinking Our Classrooms, The Line Between Us: Teaching About the Border and Mexican Immigration, and Rethinking Columbus. Bill spends a part of most workdays caring for his 6-month-old grandson Mateo. 

Tim Swinehart teaches social studies half-time at Lincoln High School, in Portland, Oregon. Tim, the recipient of the 2015 Oregon Outstanding Social Studies Teacher of the Year award, is a longtime organizer with Portland Area Rethinking Schools and the Northwest Teaching for Social Justice Conference, and currently serves on the Portland Public Schools Climate Justice Committee. He spends his off days with his daughters Zadie and Mira, riding bikes, reading books, playing music, and making protest signs.

Bill and Tim spoke with YES! about A People’s Curriculum for the Earth. Their answers have been condensed and lightly edited.

What inspired A People’s Curriculum for the Earth, and why is it important to you? What makes this curriculum unique?

Bill: In 2007, Tim and I attended a climate crisis teach-in sponsored by the International Forum on Globalization. It left us shaken. One speaker after another talked about the frightening implications of climate change.

The climate crisis is immoral—it begins in the richest countries of the world but affects the poorest most profoundly.

We came back to Portland and launched an “Earth in Crisis” curriculum workgroup to begin developing and testing out new curriculum. That began a seven-year journey that led to A People’s Curriculum for the Earth.

I have two grandsons, and I want them to have a world that is livable and not in perpetual crisis. The climate crisis is immoral—it begins in the richest countries of the world but affects the poorest most profoundly. Any educator who regards themselves as a social justice educator needs to address the climate crisis in class. I think that A People’s Curriculum for the Earth is the most comprehensive and participatory resource around, with justice at its core.

Tim: Another inspiration for A People’s Curriculum for the Earth was our desire to “story” the climate crisis. To alert students to the stories of the people, places, and cultures affected by climate change right now—not in some distant future—and to bring those stories into our classrooms, in the form of role-plays, simulations, poetry, and creative writing. To offer students the opportunity to see the climate crisis from someone else’s perspective and to empathize with the urgency experienced by those living on the frontlines of the crises—an urgency too often hidden.

Climate justice education needs to be interdisciplinary, hands-on, connected to our communities, and to give students a sense of agency—all the things we know help make learning relevant and empowering for our students. I feel an immense responsibility to teach about climate change in a way that helps students understand the root causes of the crisis, how climate justice intersects with other social issues, and how students can see themselves as part of a movement working for a more just and sustainable future.

What do you want students to take away from these lessons and stories? What do you want them to know and do, and are there any ways to assess this?

Bill: The terms “climate change” and “global warming” often get thrown around as abstract concepts. I want students to recognize that the environmental crisis we are facing affects real human beings in deeply unequal ways. I also want them to know that there are people who are doing something about it. That there is a climate justice movement, and that students can be a part of it.

If we expose students to the enormity of the climate crisis, we also have to encourage them to see themselves as change agents. 

In 2016, the Portland Public Schools Board unanimously passed a resolution calling for students to see themselves as social and environmental justice activists. This is crucial. If we expose students to the enormity of the climate crisis, we also have to encourage them to see themselves as change agents. Can we assess this? All good teaching should interrogate how students are responding to our lessons. We need to give students opportunities to demonstrate how they are responding to the climate crisis in their daily lives.

What advice do you have for teachers who want to use this curriculum?

Bill: You don’t have to be an expert to begin to teach about this. We are all figuring it out as we go. Keep it grounded in story. Make it participatory and experiential. There is something wrong with teaching about the immensity of the climate crisis through a traditional pedagogy of readings and worksheets. We need to touch students’ hearts.

You don’t have to be an expert to begin to teach about this. We are all figuring it out as we go.

I also want to make sure that we are not just teaching a curriculum of “climate literacy,” but of “climate justice.” Part of that means centering the voices of people from frontline communities, like the Marshall Islands. Here in Portland, we’ve worked with performance poet Kathy Jeñil-Kijiner to explore how climate change is affecting indigenous people in the Pacific Islands, sub-Saharan Africa, the Arctic, and Bangladesh—places that have little to do with creating this crisis but are the first to suffer from it. 

Also, consistently highlight activism. If we do a good job of imparting the science of climate change and its consequences but fail to alert students to the amazingly creative and widespread climate justice activism, then we run the risk of feeding student cynicism and despair.

Tim: Many teachers I know have shared the concern that climate change feels too immense to take on as part of their curriculum. It’s true that teaching “deeply” about the root causes of the crises and the many ways that people are responding can take a long time, but an activity like the Climate Change Mixer can be used in a single class period. Colleagues have used it successfully in science classes, economics classes, even gardening classes—and appreciate how it grounds climate change in the stories of people currently affected by the crisis.

What additional resources do you recommend?

• Poetry by Kathy Jetñil-Kijiner. Look for  “Dear Matafele Peinam,” “Tell Them,” and “The Butterfly Thief.” 

• Zinn Education Project Teaching Resources on Environment and Food

• Rethinking Schools

• This Changes Everything (Naomi Klein). Watch the trailer here

• How to Let Go of the World and Love All the Things Climate Can Change (HBO Josh Fox). Watch the trailer here. 

What’s your story?

Bill: I grew up wandering the golden hills of Marin County in California, exploring wetlands inhabited by salamanders, alligator lizards, and western racers, and building forts in the forests near our house. My friends and I had a broad—and naïve—knowledge of the natural world. And yet my schooling ignored the outdoors and taught us that anything worth knowing was to be found in books and the four walls of the classroom.

My friends and I had a broad—and naïve—knowledge of the natural world. And yet my schooling ignored the outdoors…

School taught me to not-think about the Earth, if I can use not-think as a verb. We were also surrounded by “development”—by the destruction of beaches, the filling in of wetlands, the plowing up of hills. And by its silence, my schooling taught me that this kind of degradation was normal.

I’m still trying to unlearn all this and find ways to help students question and critique the destruction of the Earth. I want them to come to insights about the world through a problem-posing curriculum of role-play, simulation, first-hand experience, storytelling, and critical reading. An ecological education has always been needed, but now it’s a matter of survival.  

Tim: Growing up on ten acres, surrounded by towering Douglas firs and a rolling hayfield, it was easy to find myself in the middle of what we often refer to as “nature.” I spent my days walking through trees, running through chest-high grass, and picking wild blackberries, warmed by the sun, smelling, and tasting of late summer.

It’s a wonderful feeling to take my daughters Zadie and Mira there, to watch them run through the field, to pick blackberries from the same vines I picked as a child. 

I’m fortunate that my parents still live on the same piece of land that I grew up on. It’s a wonderful feeling to take my daughters Zadie and Mira there, to watch them run through the field, to pick blackberries from the same vines I picked as a child. Watching them, I’m motivated to protect places like my parents’ land, and millions of similarly beautiful places around the earth, from the ravages of our changing climate.

My work teaching climate justice has helped me realize that it’s not just about these places, but about the people that inhabit them. Because in the end, we all live someplace worth saving. If we can see the connections between the places and people most affected by the climate crises and our collective future on the planet, we might just find the courage we need for the struggle that lies ahead.

Step into the shoes of a Syrian refugee. Imagine walking—and flying, driving, or traveling by boat— 1,500 dangerous miles from Syria to Europe.

Published by the BBC at the height of the refugee crisis, this virtual challenge is an exhilarating yet sobering experience. Players choose between common routes taken by Syrian migrants, and make tough decisions about how to travel and whom to trust. It’s a treacherous journey, and one wrong choice can cost you your life.

The virtual simulation is a meaningful way to cultivate empathy, jumpstart activism, and deepen students’ understanding of the Syrian refugee experience. The BBC site offers additional videos, survivor stories, and articles to learn more about the refugee crisis. 

Take the Syrian Journey here

Click here to learn more about the Syrian refugee crisis

Students will read and respond to the YES! Magazine article, “Why the Founder of Standing Rock Sioux Camp Can’t Forget the Whitestone Massacre.”

In this article, founder and director of Sacred Stone Camp, LaDonna Brave Bull Allard describes how her identity, history, and survival are intrinsically connected to the land—and water—that is being threatened by the Dakota Access Pipeline. To protect this place, Allard says they have no choice but to stand up. 

Download lesson as a PDF.

YES! Magazine Article and Writing Prompt

Read the YES! Magazine article by LaDonna Brave Bull Allard,  “Why the Founder of Standing Rock Sioux Camp Can’t Forget the Whitestone Massacre.”

Writing Prompt:

LaDonna Brave Bull Allard, the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe, over 300 Native American tribes, and other allies are protesting construction of the Dakota Access pipeline. At stake are important cultural and spiritual areas, sacred lands and rivers, and people’s histories. For many Native Americans, it feels as if “erasing this footprint from the world, erases Native Americans as people.”

Students, please respond to the writing prompt below with an up-to-700-word essay:

Describe how you would feel if a place that defines you was threatened to be destroyed or taken away. What would you do? Would you fight to save it? 

Writing Guidelines

The writing guidelines below are intended to be just that—a guide. Please adapt to fit your curriculum.

• Provide an original essay title

• Reference the article

• Limit the essay to no more than 700 words

• Pay attention to grammar and organization

• Be original. provide personal examples and insights

• Demonstrate clarity of content and ideas

• This writing exercise meets several Common Core State Standards for grades 6-12, including W. 9-10.3 and W. 9-10.14 for Writing, and RI. 9-10 and RI. 9-10.2 for Reading: Informational Text.*

*This standard applies to other grade levels. “9-10” is used as an examples.

Evaluation Rubric

Sample Essays

The essays below were selected as winners for the Winter 2017 Student Writing Competition. Please use them as sample essays or mentor text. The ideas, structure, and writing style of these essays may provide inspiration for your own students’ writing—and an excellent platform for analysis and discussion.

“Noni’s House,” by Ella Vonada, grade 7
Read Ella’s essay, “Noni’s House,” about the scratchy records and soft chairs in her favorite house—where she’ll always have someone to catch her if she falls down.

“The Bullfighter,” by Isabel Hardwig, grade 8
Read Isabel’s essay, “The Bullfighter,” about querencias—and the trampoline where she draws strength.

“Standing Up for My Mosque” by Saef-Aldeen Elbgal, grade 9
Read Saef’s essay, “Standing Up for My Mosque,” about the precious guidance he receives from the Oakland Islamic Center—and his plans to protect it.

“Half of Who I Am,” by Imogen Rain Cockrum, grade 10
Read Imogen’s essay, “Half of Who I Am,” about her mother’s war-torn, crayola-bright hometown in El Salvador.

“Candlelight,” by Mara Peruzzi, grade 10
Read Mara’s essay, “Candelight,” about how meditative drawing helps her cope with misophonia, a disorder that causes the hatred of specific sounds.

“My Dressing Room,” by Valerie Hoffman, university
Read Valerie’s essay, “My Dressing Room,” about the office space at school that gives her the privacy and freedom to be herself. 

We Want to Hear From You!

How do you see this lesson fitting in your curriculum? Already tried it? Tell us—and other teachers—how the lesson worked for you and your students

Please leave your comments below, including what grade you teach.

The YES! National Student Writing Competition is an opportunity for middle school through university students to write about something meaningful, and a chance to write for a real audience—not just you, the teacher.

Each quarter, students are invited to read and write an essay on a selected YES! Magazine article. We divide contestants into four categories: middle school, high school, university, and Powerful Voice (for authors whose essays are powerful and passionate). Winning essays in each category are published on the YES! Magazine website and in our online education newsletter.

Registration for the Winter Contest is closed. Essays are due no later than February 1.

Sign up our YES! For Teachers newsletter to be notified about future student writing contests.

Click here for general information about the writing competition.

Read recent featured essays here.

Your Sacred Place

This winter, students will read and respond to the YES! Magazine article, Why the Founder of Standing Rock Sioux Camp Can’t Forget the Whitestone Massacre. In this article, founder and director of Sacred Stone Camp, LaDonna Brave Bull Allard describes how her identity, history and survival are intrinsically connected to the land—and water—that is being threatened by the Dakota Access Pipeline. To protect this place, Allard says they have no choice but to stand up.  

The Writing Prompt

LaDonna Brave Bull Allard, the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe, over 300 Native American tribes, and other allies are protesting construction of the Dakota Access pipeline. At stake are important cultural and spiritual areas, sacred lands and rivers, and people’s histories. For many Native Americans, it feels as if “erasing this footprint from the world, erases Native Americans as people.”

Students, please respond to the writing prompt below with an up-to-700-word essay:

Describe how you would feel if a place that defines you was threatened to be destroyed or taken away. What would you do? Would you fight to save it? 

Who is eligible?

You must be a classroom teacher—homeschool cooperative, resource centers, supervised writing groups, and schools outside the U.S. included—for your students to participate.

Student writers should be in grades 6-8, grades 9-12, college/university, or adult continuing education.

How does it work?

• Complete the competition registration form by December 9 (see link at bottom of page).
• Students respond to the YES! article with an essay up to 700 words.
• Submit up to three essays per class period, along with student release forms, by February 1, 2017.
• For each of the following categories, YES! staff will select one essay that we feel is well-written, compelling, and captures the spirit of the article:
o Middle School (Grades 6-8)
o High School (Grades 9-12)
o College/university
o Powerful Voice (for an author whose essay is uniquely powerful or thought-provoking)
• The selected essays will be featured on the YES! Magazine website and in our online education newsletter, reaching thousands of YES! readers, including over 16,000 teachers.

Common Core State Standards

This writing competition meets several Common Core State Standards for grades 6-12, including W.9-10.3 and W.9-10.4 for Writing, and RI.9-10.1 and RI.9-10.2 for Reading: Informational Text *
*This standard applies to other grade levels. “9-10” is used as an example.

What are the essay requirements?

• Respond to the article and writing prompt provided by YES!
• Provide an original essay title
• Reference the article
• No more than 700 words
• Must be original, unpublished words
• Teachers must read and submit their students’ essays. Remember, the limit is three essays per class period. Please take time to read your students’ essays to ensure they have met essay requirements, including correct grammar. Unfortunately, we cannot accept essays sent independently by students.

In addition, we are evaluating essays for (see rubric at bottom of page):

• Grammar
• Organization
• Strong style and personal voice. We encourage writers to include personal examples and insights.
• Originality and clarity of content and ideas

How do I submit the three best essays from my class?

• You must be registered for the contest by Dec. 9th.
• E-mail your three best student essays as word-processed document attachments (please convert your Google Docs to Word if you can, and please no pdf or scanned documents) to writingcompetition@yesmagazine.org no later than February 1st.
• Include a scanned, completed student release form
with each submitted essay. Please make sure student email addresses are legible and visible—preferably typed. NOTE: Submit all student essays by Feb. 1, even if there are missing release forms since we will be evaluating essays the next day. You may send completed releases at your soonest convenience.

Get Started Here:

Registration Form
Student Release Form
Evaluation Rubric

Writing Competition Calendar 2016-2017

To help you plan for the remainder of the 2016-17 school year, here are key dates for the spring writing contest: 

Spring 2017

Details announced: February 1, 2017

Registration due: March 3, 2017

Essays due: April 14

Questions? Please email writingcompetition@yesmagazine.org

Thank you for joining us!

Isabel Hardwig, an eighth grade student of Katharine Dulaney at Franklin School of Innovation in Asheville, N.C., read and responded to the online YES! Magazine article, “Why the Founder of Standing Rock Sioux Camp Can’t Forget the Whitestone Massacre.”

In this story, founder and director of Sacred Stone Camp, LaDonna Brave Bull Allard describes how her identity, history and survival are intrinsically connected to the land—and water—that is being threatened by the Dakota Access Pipeline. To protect this place, Allard says they have no choice but to stand up.

Writing Prompt: Describe how you would feel if a place that defines you was threatened to be destroyed or taken away. What would you do? Would you fight to save it?

The Bullfighter

A few weeks ago, one of my teachers discussed the concept of a querencia—a wanting place. The term originates from Spanish bullfighting, when a bull finds a section of the ring where he feels safe. As Ernest Hemingway said, “In this place he has his back against the wall and in his querencia he is inestimably more dangerous and almost impossible to kill.” The teacher then asked us to write about our own querencia. It was an easy concept for me—I understand the places in my life from which I draw my strength.

I am a writer, and I have places where my best writing hides. My trampoline is the most important one. I spend hours out there on a good night, throwing a yoga ball against the net and telling stories that I will never write down. People don’t tend to understand it, as it’s something of an unusual hobby, but it doesn’t matter. The best querencias are ones whose magic you can’t explain.

The magic isn’t in the physical place; I can recreate it without too much difficulty. My trampoline is a sacred space for so many reasons. When I jump on it, I feel like I can touch the stars on a clear night. It is sacred because I’ve had it since I was six, and it holds many childhood memories. Perhaps most importantly, it is sacred because it is a space that is wholly mine. It seems like everyone should have the right to a space like this that they can call their own.

When fighting a bull, you take away its querencia. Better yet, you don’t let it find one in the first place. If the bull finds its place—if you don’t get there in time—then you try to take away the wanting place or weaken it. You want to make the bull think it doesn’t have a space where it feels in control.

Which leads to the question: why are we still trying to weaken Native Americans? When they have a place where they find strength, we try to take it away. Do we still believe the harmful rhetoric that they are “savages,” dangerous people who dared inhabit a place we wanted to live? Even now, in the 21st century, when we say we no longer fear what we do not understand, we are whittling down their strength into splinters.

Between beginning this essay and finishing it, the Dakota Access Pipeline was denied approval. It happened this morning. My carpool driver explained it excitedly to his kid. My friends whispered among themselves, “Have you heard? The fight’s over. It’s done.”

I’m thrilled that the protests of people who want to keep their sacred spaces have been heard, but I wish it was never a question. In a perfect world, no protests would be needed. Police officers would not be standing in the freezing cold on Thanksgiving, spraying peaceful protesters with water hoses and shooting them with rubber bullets that do much more damage than their name suggests. Nobody would question statements like, “People’s homes should be respected,” “Water is life and shouldn’t be put in jeopardy,” and, “Native Americans have rights that need to be honored.”

In a perfect world, querencias are recognized. In a perfect world, instead of taking away the bull’s safe space, the fighter tries to find one of his own.

In a perfect world, I lie on my trampoline, my friend twists in her hammock, and my teacher hikes through the woods near his childhood home. The bull rears, and the fighter is ready. The Sioux tribes wonder when the next fight will be, but they’re too tired to think of much other than victory.

We draw our strength from our surroundings, and we look up into a sky that wraps around us until we feel dizzy. Feet on the ground, head in the stars—this is where we return to.

Imogen Rain Cockrum, a tenth grade student of Haley Campbell at Mount Madonna School in Watsonville, Calif., read and responded to the online YES! Magazine article, “Why the Founder of Standing Rock Sioux Camp Can’t Forget the Whitestone Massacre.”

In this story, founder and director of Sacred Stone Camp, LaDonna Brave Bull Allard describes how her identity, history and survival are intrinsically connected to the land—and water—that is being threatened by the Dakota Access Pipeline. To protect this place, Allard says they have no choice but to stand up.

Writing Prompt: Describe how you would feel if a place that defines you was threatened to be destroyed or taken away. What would you do? Would you fight to save it?

Half of Who I Am

My father is American and was born and raised in California, and my mother comes from the small country of El Salvador, in Central America. I was raised in a multicultural environment where I was taught to speak both English and Spanish. I have been raised between two cultures constantly crashing against one another like waves; sometimes they blend well, other times they don’t. Speaking English, living in a multicultural neighborhood, and celebrating American holidays overshadow the influence that comes from my mother’s El Salvador. But every time I hear my mother speak, eat her home-cooked meals, or get pulled into dancing cumbias, I am reminded that I am from somewhere else. My roots spread far, even if they don’t manifest in obvious ways.

The most I exercise my foreign tongue is whenever I am in my mother’s hometown, a small village named El Carrizal in the province of Chalatenango. It is hot and humid there—so hot and humid that it is hard to breathe. I gaze from my grandmother’s porch, which overlooks the village plaza, cursing the mosquitoes and rocking in my hammock, desperate to create any kind of breeze. Across the plaza, there is a run-down church with fading white walls. It looks a century old, like something from an old movie. In spite of its lack of physical beauty, it serves as the heart of the village.

Everyone stops at our house on their way to and from church. I laugh and play with my sister and cousins while the adults talk and gossip, as only people from a tiny town can do. Exclamations of ¡Puchica!, ¡No me digas! and ¡Dios me guarde! echo from the chattering groups. They are loud, but only because they live from the heart and are unrestrained in their passions. If noise was a color, my mother’s family would command the entire Crayola box. We dance when the town hosts a dance, and we feast when my grandmother hosts a feast.

This small town, barely the size of just two city blocks, holds a tremendous place in my heart. In spite of the influences from where I live, I know that my mother’s country is home. Distance, time, and life’s distractions sometimes cause me to forget this place I love. But when I am there, I know who I am. I know that my mother’s country is home. El Salvador is as much my country as the United States.

However, this wondrous land, which I cherish, has its own haunting past. As LaDonna Brave Bull Allard states in her article “Why the Founder of Standing Rock Sioux Camp Can’t Forget the Whitestone Massacre,” “We cannot forget our stories of survival.” My mother was forced to escape her country in spite of her love for it. She had to struggle through poverty and survive a war. It was the government against the people, and the people against the government.

I was born because my mother survived. In the same place that holds a sacred place in my heart, blood was spilled—my family’s blood. My grandfather was taken and killed by guerilla fighters. Meanwhile, my mother, the youngest daughter of ten children, was forced to escape with her siblings and my grandmother. As a young child, she counted corpses in the road and suffered in refugee homes with strangers. Seventy-five thousand people died in this war. This is the same country that I love.

I fear that if El Salvador were taken from me—in the same way that it was once taken from my mother—I would forget half of who I am, half of what I love. I would be devastated, and I would fight for its survival.

As I grow older and the opportunities to visit become more difficult, I find myself fighting to keep the memories and lessons from this place alive. They allow me to know that what I hold at my core are simple truths about what’s really important in life—that we are always connected to where we come from. When I smile, laugh, or even dance, I am showing the world not just who I am, but where I come from. This is what I am fighting for.

Valerie Hoffman, a student of Drew Viles at Lane Community College in Eugene, Ore., read and responded to the online YES! Magazine article, “Why the Founder of Standing Rock Sioux Camp Can’t Forget the Whitestone Massacre.”

In this story, founder and director of Sacred Stone Camp, LaDonna Brave Bull Allard describes how her identity, history and survival are intrinsically connected to the land—and water—that is being threatened by the Dakota Access Pipeline. To protect this place, Allard says they have no choice but to stand up.

Writing Prompt: Describe how you would feel if a place that defines you was threatened to be destroyed or taken away. What would you do? Would you fight to save it?

My Dressing Room

I wasn’t very successful at finding other queer people at my previous high school. This was partially due to my own insecurities with trust. When I entered college, though, I decided to join the Gender and Sexuality Alliance (GSA) to meet more companions in the LGBT community and to better myself as a leader and defender within it. I was elected the treasurer of my GSA, and I will be forever grateful that its members placed their trust and confidence in me to handle the group’s finances for the 2016-2017 school year. I feel blessed to be surrounded by so many people like me.

While I expected to find other transgender students in my college GSA, I was very surprised to find out that I was actually in the majority. Most of my fellow GSA members are trans. I have never seen so many people like me in one place. All of them have been so helpful, from giving me advice about how to run the GSA to suggesting places to buy feminine clothes, like the Clothing Swap where I found all my dresses.

College is the only place where I wear feminine attire. My parents still don’t know the truth about me—when I am home or elsewhere I am forced to present myself as male. But at college, I have an office adjoined to the larger GSA office where I can dress and store my clothing, giving me the privacy I need. It’s an approximately 10×10 room with a couch and pride flags adorning the walls. The dressing room brings me not just a sense of safety, but also of belonging. I don’t have any secrets when I’m in there.

The 2016 election put all of this into jeopardy. Although events like the Women’s March have given me hope, the Republican Party shows no sign of stopping their efforts to disenfranchise transgender people. Even things as mundane as bathrooms are being politicized to fit the Republican Party’s agenda— now they’re trying to force us to use bathrooms that correspond to the sex on our birth certificate.

One of the last gifts that former President Barack Obama gave before he left office was the option for transgender people to change the gender markers on their official IDs, like passports and driver’s licenses. Unfortunately, not all of us had the time or money to change these markers before the new administration took office, and the little window of time that we have is closing fast.

Trump’s administration will strip away many laws that protect human rights. And gender markers on IDs will only be a small part in a much larger-scale attempt to turn back the clock to America’s Puritan era, when witch hunts were common and dissent was forbidden. When it was unheard of for anybody to speak openly about sex or religion. When it was impossible for people to speak about loving people of the same gender or to freely express their gender identity.

At times, feelings of doubt start to creep into my mind. When will the transphobia stop? Why does it feel like nobody is standing up to this? What’s the point in moving forward when it feels like we’re marching through quicksand? But even in the recesses of my mind where I find such self-hatred, I also find self-confidence. I know that things seem bleak, but there are inspirational people and places to guide us in the right direction—like historic LGBT sites.

One place in particular, the Stonewall Inn in New York City’s Greenwich Village, is a beacon of hope for the LGBT community. The Stonewall Inn is a historic gay bar, a national monument, and the location of what became known as “the shot glass heard around the world.” That shot glass was thrown on June 28, 1969, by Marsha P. Johnson, an African-American transgender activist, after her famous words, “I got my civil rights!”

The Stonewall Inn reminds me of LaDonna Brave Bull Allard’s words on the importance of preserving sites for future generations: “The U.S. government is wiping out our most important cultural and spiritual areas. And as it erases our footprint from the world, it erases us as a people. These sites must be protected, or our world will end, it is that simple. Our young people have a right to know who they are.” Whether it’s a safe haven to change into clothes that make us feel like ourselves, or a national historic monument that helped define the modern gay liberation movement, we will fight to preserve these sacred spaces for future LGBT communities. In the end, we may not achieve victory with all of our goals. We may not stand with raised fists in the air, but instead with our knees buckled to the ground, still breathing. We will still be here, and we will always be here, to protect what we deserve.

As bleak as things seem right now, I can never truly stop being so grateful for what life has given me so far. I have the GSA to support me. I have the Stonewall Inn to keep me inspired. And I have my sacred space, my office dressing room, where I’m free to be me. If this continues, then I may might be able to have “the talk” with my family someday. And no matter what, I will never stop fighting for a better world where transgender people can enjoy the human rights they deserve.

Saef-Aldeen Elbgal, a ninth grade student of Jessica Hom at Aspire College Preparatory Academy in Richmond, California, read and responded to the online YES! Magazine article, “Why the Founder of Standing Rock Sioux Camp Can’t Forget the Whitestone Massacre.”

In this story, founder and director of Sacred Stone Camp, LaDonna Brave Bull Allard describes how her identity, history and survival are intrinsically connected to the land—and water—that is being threatened by the Dakota Access Pipeline. To protect this place, Allard says they have no choice but to stand up. 

Writing Prompt: Describe how you would feel if a place that defines you was threatened to be destroyed or taken away. What would you do? Would you fight to save it?

Standing Up for My Mosque

As a Muslim, mosques are a very important part of my life. Mosques are where we worship and practice our religion freely. Of all the mosques I’ve been to, the one that defines me most is the Oakland Islamic Center, located in Oakland, California.

The Oakland Islamic Center has helped me find out many things about my religion and my culture, and has given me proper guidance for the life I wish to live. This mosque is where I have met companions who I’ve learned to trust. It’s where I have met people my age who come from families similar to mine, and whom I can relate to on many levels. Omar is one of my friends at the mosque. Our families both come from the same village in Yemen. We talk about how people at school treat us as Muslims, our Yemeni heritage, and what it is like being an English-speaking child in an Arabic-speaking family.

Most importantly, the Oakland Islamic Center is where I have heard stories and seen things that have taught me what is right and wrong. It is a place where I, and many other Muslims, seek forgiveness and guidance. I have seen so many people cry in mosques, begging God for forgiveness and mercy. I have seen grown men weep like babies. I have seen dead bodies in the back, being cleaned for the Prayer of the Dead. I have seen people convert to a new path of life, and become more humble.

I would feel more upset than nervous if the Oakland Islamic Center was threatened. If the government tried to close down a mosque or tried to prevent one from being built, then I would call on other Muslims—people who stand up for their religion, who do not let “The Man” with power oppress them, and who wish to one day tell their kids, “I stood up for what I believe in.” I would disturb the peace and protest on the streets. I would ask non-Muslims to unite with us, too.

But if those who threatened the mosque were not official authorities or the government—well, I would get physical. I’m talking about those anti-religious nuts who want to wipe out someone’s faith, like Craig Stephen Hicks, the Chapel Hill Shooter. In 2015, he killed three unarmed Muslims in their apartment, supposedly because they parked in his parking spot, though many people feel it was a hate crime. If people like Hicks approached us in the mosque and tried to break the beautiful chandeliers, vandalize the majestic Arabic calligraphy, or destroy the Qurans and other books, I would physically pull them apart, throw rocks at them, or punch and kick them until they left. You might think I’m exaggerating. Well, actually, I’m not. I would fight.

I would fight because we live in America, where people from different races, religions, and sexualities unite to build the most powerful country on the face of the Earth. Many other countries, like Yemen, don’t allow freedom of speech. They try to tell people what to believe and what to do. I have heard of and seen many people in Yemen get punished for speaking out or teaching another faith to others. The poor schools, which are the most common schools, teach students to hate non-believers of Islam. As a matter of fact, that is what caused the Yemeni war between the two Muslim groups, the Houthis and the Sunnis.

Unlike Yemen, the U.S allows its citizens to be free. I am willing to protect my mosque, even if I get arrested. It isn’t fair that we can’t exercise our First Amendment right just because some people think certain religions, like Islam, shouldn’t be allowed in this country. I do not want the removal of my beloved mosque to be a symbol of the weakening of Islam. More importantly, the weakening of this country.

In “Why the Founder of Standing Rock Sioux Camp Can’t Forget the Whitestone Massacre,” LaDonna Brave Bull Allard states: “Our young people have a right to know who they are. They have a right to language, to culture, to tradition. The way to learn these things is through connection to our lands and our history.” Allard is trying to tell people that Native Americans need their land to feel pride in who they are. That pride inspires Native American protesters and motivates them to stop the “Black Snake” from destroying their lands. Their children need to know what their ancestors believed in, who their enemies were, and what they accomplished.

Allard’s quote demonstrates the importance of maintaining a sacred place. A sacred place teaches a generation about what their ancestors protected and fought for. This relates to the mosque because mosques tell the next generation of world leaders what people in the past and present have worked hard to attain. I hope that the information and lessons we give our children will motivate them to continue what their ancestors started long ago.

In a mosque, young Muslims learn about their religion and how it can benefit them throughout their lives. The Mosque also teaches us not to be greedy, and to follow the Prophet Muhammad’s lessons of humility and kindness. America is stronger because of its mosques, and I will fight to keep it that way.

Mara Peruzzi, a tenth grade student of Haley Campbell at Mount Madonna School in Watsonville, Calif., read and responded to the online YES! Magazine article, “Why the Founder of Standing Rock Sioux Camp Can’t Forget the Whitestone Massacre.”

In this story, founder and director of Sacred Stone Camp, LaDonna Brave Bull Allard describes how her identity, history and survival are intrinsically connected to the land—and water—that is being threatened by the Dakota Access Pipeline. To protect this place, Allard says they have no choice but to stand up.

Writing Prompt: Describe how you would feel if a place that defines you was threatened to be destroyed or taken away. What would you do? Would you fight to save it?

Candlelight

The place I consider sacred is neither physical nor concrete, but rather mental and abstract. My sacred place is the art of Zentangle, a very detailed art form that involves drawing designs that, when put together, form intricate structural patterns.

Zentangle is a beautiful and soothing thing. Its warm and welcoming hands reach into my heart and ignite my inner candlelight, quieting the bustle in my everyday life. Its radiant colors waltz across the page, hand in hand with my pencil and, “poof!” my frustration disappears.

Creating Zentangles is my personal therapy. Here, in this mindset, I’m free from the buzz and chatter of noise, and from the violent blizzard of anxiety that small sounds conjure up in my mind, freezing me, paralyzing me with insecurities. When I’m drawing, nothing interrupts the quiet. The flourishing fire inside of me is protected by a sturdy and sure barrier: the power of my mind. I feel safe from disruptions and self-condemning parasites. And, most importantly, I feel in touch with my surroundings and with my heart.

Unfortunately, I can’t stay in this paradise without a fight against an opposing force. I have recently been diagnosed with misophonia, “hatred of sounds,” a rare neuropsychiatric sound sensitivity disorder that causes severe annoyance and anxiety when triggered by small specific sounds like chewing, sniffling, clicking, typing, breathing, or almost any repetitive noise.

To me, seeing and hearing someone chew (especially gum) is as if an annoying little brother is yelling and poking me non-stop. Sometimes, someone breathing through their nose gives me the anxiety of nails being scraped across a chalkboard. With the click of a pencil, I feel like a ticking time bomb about to explode. Sniffling makes me feel like a jackhammer is tearing up a concrete sidewalk right next to me. While sounds like these may not bother the average person, for me they make my soul feel like ice. My sacred place is destroyed, and my inner candlelight is extinguished.

It is hard for most people to grasp this rare concept because it’s something they’ve never experienced. Misophonia may sound unrealistic but it’s a very personal part of my life that I am forced to deal with every day. When the blizzard of sensitivities strikes, it leaves me with a whirlwind of insecurities: What is misophonia? If only a minuscule fraction of the population has this, why me? How can so many little sounds irritate me so much? What’s wrong with me? These are the questions I ask myself, but I have recently learned that asking these questions won’t get me anywhere. Instead, I jump to the most important question: How can I get out of my own head? As the Dalai Lama said, “Do not let the behavior of others destroy your inner peace.” By keeping in touch with our bodies and creating an enlightened sacred space—like I have done with art—we can rid ourselves of worries and excess anxiety. 

LaDonna Brave Bull Allard states in her YES! Magazine article, “Why the Founder of Standing Rock Sioux Camp Can’t Forget the Whitestone Massacre,” that “We are the river, and the river is us. We have no choice but to stand up.” This quote shows the importance of standing up for yourself, or a part of you that you love. The quietness of art has always been a part of me, and I am a part of it. I have no choice but to stand up when misophonia threatens to destroy my sacred place of art and calm my state of mind. I must use the power of my mind to fend off the blizzard of sensitivities.

I am making it my mission to shield myself from this blizzard, and to keep my inner candle lit. When I developed this rare sound sensitivity, I also nourished and redefined the beauty of Zentangle and its peacefulness. I dug out the artwork I had created before my diagnosis, looking for inspiration to get back to a safe state of mind. When I am focused on art, I can quiet the howling storm and focus on the path to mindfulness.

Ella Vonada, a student of Eva McGough at Lake Washington Girls Middle School in Seattle, WA, read and responded to the online YES! Magazine article, “Why the Founder of Standing Rock Sioux Camp Can’t Forget the Whitestone Massacre.”

In this story, founder and director of Sacred Stone Camp, LaDonna Brave Bull Allard describes how her identity, history and survival are intrinsically connected to the land—and water—that is being threatened by the Dakota Access Pipeline. To protect this place, Allard says they have no choice but to stand up.

Writing Prompt: Describe how you would feel if a place that defines you was threatened to be destroyed or taken away. What would you do? Would you fight to save it?

Noni’s House

Every day, people walk past this old, blue, wooden house. If you’re lucky enough, you can place your small cold hands on the brass doorknob and enter the warmth of Noni’s house. A child has infinite needs growing up: security, love, family, safety. When I was growing up, all I needed was my Noni’s house.

When I was five, I’d come through her front door, into the entryway that always smelled of her perfume. The hint of flowers wafted off her coat collars, filling my cold, red nose with warmth. I’d turn left, into a room with a wall completely covered with a mirror. The mirror was carved by a man four generations ago—my great-great-grandfather. Turning right from the entrance, was my Noni’s den where two worn, yellow leather chairs sat. Settling into Noni’s yellow chairs was like sitting on a cloud, floating above all danger, because when I snuggled up close to her, I felt protected.

Have you ever been so deeply in love with a place, so fully attached, that it became a part of your being? Have you ever felt so strongly about a place that you would protect it as you would your own child? I have. My grandmother’s home is the small blue one, one house from the corner. I’m lucky to know that when I enter Noni’s house, I’ll always be warm.

A sacred place is a place that I love and cherish—a place that makes me feel safe. Losing something like that can’t be replaced. Once it’s gone, it’s gone. When I was one day old, I woke up to my birth mother being gone. Then I was taken in by another family. A year later I lost them. One year old and I lost yet another family, yet another home. And then I was adopted at age one and brought here. I thought the rug was going to be pulled out from under me again. I thought I would be abandoned by another family. I constantly worry about that.

It’s only when I’m at my Noni’s that, I can forget about that. I’m able to tune out everything but the scratchy record playing The Sound of Music. I’m able to run around her big backyard without worrying I’m going to trip— if I trip, I have people to pick me up. Taking that house away would be devastating. the rug being pulled out from under me. It would be the feeling of an unexpected shock, and then before you know it, you’re on your face again. I love that house. I love the memories it has. I love the people in it. I love how I call that house my sacred place.

The loss of my sacred place would make me want to fight for it. I would want to protect it like it protected me. There are many ways for one to do this. Like Rosa Parks I can start a boycott and sit at the front of the bus because we are all equal. I can walk out of school and join my city to protest against our president, Donald Trump. I can make a speech like Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and make my cause be heard with the power of speech.

If Noni’s house were to be destroyed, I would use my voice as its protector. a guard. I would speak to my school, my church, my family, my city—everyone who would listen, I would tell. Destroying a sacred place isn’t only wrong, it’s cruel and disrespectful. Everyone I could gather would begin the talk. We would begin to share, and we, as one voice, one body, one cause, would take action and use the power of public speech to save my sacred place.

Standing Rock is the Sioux Tribes’s “Noni’s House”. It’s their safe place, the place that shouldn’t be pulled out from under them. Year after year, place after place, we have taken land, culture, and language from Native Americans. We’ve taken their home over and over again, ruining their ability to feel secure. We can’t keep doing that. We’ve knocked them down dozens of times, but they will still stand, like a rock that can’t be moved.

I sit down at my drum set. I forget anything that happened before the present moment. A long day of relentless work and a week full of worrying wash away in a rhythmic river of stomping, swinging, and crashing… It’s the only place I can hit back.
—Carl Ward, grade 11, Mount Madonna School, Watsonville, Calif.

The David H. Koch Theater was my Holy Grail, my gold medal, my Lombardi trophy. I saw George Balanchine’s The Nutcracker there when I was 5 years old. As soon as I walked in the lobby, I was mesmerized, the marble walls and floor took my breath away. “This is beautiful,” I told my mom. Inside, the theater had four balconies and a spherical crystal chandelier in the center of the ceiling. As soon as the yellow velvet curtain went up, I moved to the front of my red seat and stayed there for the entire show. The best part about it was all of the men and boys. In my ballet school, there were two boys total. The show redefined ballet for me. I realized that night that ballet was manly and exciting. I saw the jumps and turns and noticed the joy the men had. I turned to my mom and pointed, “I want to be in that Nutcracker.”
—Micah S. Kittay, grade 7, Ethical Culture Fieldston School, Bronx, N.Y.

This world revolves around power, ripping it away from others and injecting it into their veins. As the arms of a brutally powerful man get stronger, those who are passionate about what they love rise right alongside him.
—Gabrielle Frulla, Western Connecticut State University, Danbury, Conn.

When I ride my horse, I let all my worries away in the click of my heels, I feel the wind start to whip through my hair, and I am soaring like an eagle.
—Daniel Richardson, grade 8, Crest Academy, Salida, Colo.

It seems shameful to just erase this group’s ties to this land so a pipeline can be built. I wonder what the US government would do if the same thing were proposed to happen to historic sites in Washington D.C. or historic sites of the American Revolution.
—Corinne Emanuel, grade 7, Saint Agnes Academy, Memphis, Tenn.

Now, having been there and stood where thousands of the fiercest kings have stood and having felt the presence of the faerie buried deep beneath the ground in hiding, the idea of a highway feels so wrong. I feel as though the hill itself would thrash and break free of the cement bindings.
—Tara H. Ching, grade 12, Mount Madonna School, Watsonville, Calif.

The traditional dishes of plantain and tamales with a side of beans or rice, the expectations set onto a person the second they are introduced to the world, and the intolerable heat and warm breezes of the beach are things that describe being Salvadoreño to me.
—Walter Cruz, grade 10, Capital City Public Charter School, Washington, D.C.

I can vividly picture everything backstage. Bobby pins scattered across the floor, makeup wipes all over the dressers, hazy mirrors from all the hairspray, people reciting lines, singing the songs before we go on stage, and going over last-minute choreography.
—Phoebe Olson, grade 8, Natomas Charter School, Sacramento, Calif.

This park is where I had my first kiss, where I sat under a bridge looking out at the river, and discussing what future two teens may have in this world. It’s where I asked her to be mine and where she said yes.
—Victoria Stewart, Lane Community College, Eugene, Ore.

“Floating out over the reef that lies beneath me, seeing the smooth water form into a sensational gliding mountain, feeling the misty splashes of water on my face from the wind passing by, smelling the fresh bluish green liquid dancing beneath me, tasting the salty coolness running through my mouth and gliding between my teeth—all these things are what create the magic of the ocean, the magic of surfing. Everyone needs their tunnel, and I found mine.”

—Brigg Busenhart, grade 11, Mount Madonna School, Watsonville, Calif.

I encourage all that have the chance to fight for what they love because not having the chance to fight is much worse.
—Kasey Dunmire, grade 8, Columbus City Preparatory School for Girls, Columbus, Ohio

I’ve been living in a trailer park for about 11 years now and it’s been the best thing that has ever happened to me because I get to meet all the people that live in a trailer next to me and you get to be with them a lot.
—José Barrera, grade 9, Aspire College Preparatory Academy, Richmond, Calif.

At Pride, the streets are filled with people. Floats with dancing firemen throw candy to the crowd, only to be bested by a group of topless women. My old church even had a truck with tambourine players and my family, who shouted “We love you!” to the haters who shouted over loudspeakers, “Jesus hates you!” That was awful. But hope shines through any darkness: people in angel costumes stepped in front of them, blocking out the hate and spew of terrible with large wings.
Katherine Rosinski, grade 7, The Museum School of Avondale Estates, Avondale Estates, Ga.

Life for me started amidst cigarette smoke and unconditional love.
Callie Considine, grade 10, Halstead High School, Halstead, Kan.

I know the foggy mornings with sea salt hair and sandy feet. I can recognize the smell of low tide and coconut surf wax, of weed and breakfast burritos. I’ve memorized the sound of waves meeting the sand and seagulls dipping down to the water for lunch. The feeling of the frigid cold water has mapped itself in my skin.
—Izabella Thomas, grade 12, Mount Madonna School, Watsonville, Calif.

The streets are dusty, and dogs wander around, their mouths hanging wide open, scavenging for bits of food. During the summer, in the driest time of year, piles of ash and burnt branches dot the landscape, letting out puffs of black dust and a satisfying crunch when you step on them… I love every bit of that place, even the empty cans and candy wrappers in the corners, mingling with old, golden memories.
—Isabella Ramos, grade 7, Ethical Culture Fieldston School, Bronx, N.Y.

Dear Ella, Imogen, Isabel, Mara, Saef, and Valerie:

Your essays touched my heart. The struggles of each person, and their strength and bravery, shows through in your writing.

When you stand up for what you believe, sometimes it is hard. Sometimes you look around and think you are the only one standing. Then you turn your head and see the many people standing with you across the world.

I ask each of you, that if you believe in something that touches your heart, then stand up and make life better for the next generation. I pray that each of you does this to change the world.

Stand up. Pray hard.

LaDonna Brave Bull Allard
TaMakaWasteWin- Her Good Earth Woman

I was a community member and activist long before becoming a teacher at Santa Ana High School 17 years ago. The community where I serve and live is urban, inner city. It’s viewed as a place where crime is rampant. Eighty percent of the population speaks Spanish as their primary language. Nonetheless, I know this city—and school—as a place where students care deeply about each other and the community where they live.

Before my students could determine what action to take, they needed to grasp the current struggle to preserve Native lands and to stop the Dakota Access Pipeline (DAPL)

I have always pushed to incorporate “real world” assignments for my students. In October 2016, the strong presence of Standing Rock on social media seemed like a perfect opportunity for students in my Ethnic Studies class to extend their learning to action—and to honor our class mission to build leaders and activists. However, before my students could determine what action to take, they needed to grasp the current struggle to preserve Native lands and to stop the Dakota Access Pipeline (DAPL).

I started by asking my students to create mini-lessons on aspects of Native American history and culture. Lessons ranged from genocide to the occupation of Alcatraz. I then shared mini-documentaries, newly created YouTube videos, and an article about the water protectors at Standing Rock.

In between the video clips and articles, students independently searched for Standing Rock stories on their phones. I wanted them to understand the environmental, economic, and cultural identity issues behind the protests, while also paying attention to media coverage of this epic standoff. Each discovery my students made exposed the reality that mainstream media was ignoring Standing Rock—and if there was coverage, the coverage was not only limited, but also often biased or inaccurate. The lack of exposure shocked my students. One student who either didn’t understand the directions—or decided not to follow them—incredulously shouted, “Ms. Reed, there are no news stories about Standing Rock on any of my sites! I can’t find anything reported on it.” We also compared the interests of the water protectors to the interests of big businesses. We deconstructed where private interests influenced limited media coverage. What was media not telling us?

The takeaway I wanted for my students was that even though they were thousands of miles away, their voices had impact.

After gaining a great deal of knowledge about Standing Rock and #NoDAPL, it was time for my students to choose how they were going to inform the public about the protests, and to create an action plan to support the water protectors. They created posters, Instagram posts, brochures, and flyers. Their proposed actions ranged from calling the White House, to writing to elected officials, to participating in a local protest. The takeaway I wanted for my students was that even though they were thousands of miles away, their voices had impact. I wanted them to believe in the power of solutions and people working together. I wanted them to fight the status quo, to make right what history has made wrong for so many years.

As is the nature of the classroom, some students took more interest than others. Isaiah decided to call the White House to declare his opinion about the government’s lack of response at Standing Rock. The day Isaiah called happened to be the day after President Trump was elected. After many attempts, Isaiah couldn’t get through. He was outraged. This was a learning lesson; we talked about how many people were upset about the state of our country, and that he was not alone in calling the White House.

The most positive change came from students who joined a local protest against the DAPL. They saw a segregated Santa Ana bring down its walls that afternoon, and immediately felt a movement of voices. Brown folks, white folks, Latinos, Mexican-Americans, Chicanos, Native people were together for justice. Passing cars honked their horns. People cheered for us as we walked downtown and held our homemade signs. One of my students looked up at me with her big, brown eyes filled with amazement and said, “These people are passionate about change! They really care about the issues at Standing Rock.”

When these student protestors returned to school that Monday, they were different people.

When these student protesters returned to school that Monday, they were different people. They were now invested in a struggle that they didn’t care about last October. There was a feeling of wholeness, bravery, unity—a shared experience and a sense of accomplishment that they enthusiastically shared with their family groups of 4-desk pods. They now see themselves as part of a global movement.

What I would share with any teacher who wishes to create lessons like these for their students is to start from a place of action. Students want to be involved. They want to believe that their voice—their point of view—is important. Action-based lessons shake the foundation of their education. Young people are not used to choosing for themselves. They rarely get to have real-life experiences when learning. However, when all is said and done— when eyes and hearts are opened to what is possible— these experiences are what create a democracy. These are the lessons that cause my students—and yours—to see themselves as part of the solution. These are the lessons they remember.

If you want to make real social change, pay attention to the history of past social movements.

Teaching for Change has created “Resistance 101,” an introductory lesson for students to deepen their impact beyond protesting. They’ll “meet” twenty people throughout U.S. history who have resisted injustice, and learn a range of strategies used by these unsung heroes and activists. People like Anne Braden, who, in 1954, helped an African American man buy a house in an all-white neighborhood, and Dave Archambault II, who rallied Native American allies in 2016 to resist the construction of an oil pipeline.

Structured as a role play/scavenger hunt, the lesson is appropriate for middle school, high school, and university students.

Though the lesson is free, you will need to register in order to access it on the Teaching for Change site. YES! For Teachers does its best to provide educators with easily accessible teaching tools. 

Download lesson.

For more resources from Teaching for Change, click here.

Images, photos, and pictures stimulate the mind. For the viewer, they offer a chance to connect and question. They also offer potential for play and imagination, and pulling the observer into purposeful messages.

Most often, newspaper and magazine readers take a quick glance at photos and their captions. With this YES! lesson plan, you and your students can luxuriate—and pause—to truly understand an image, its message, and why it’s interesting (or not).

Download this lesson as a PDF.

Step 1: What do you notice?

Ask your students to make sense of the photograph by trusting their instincts of observation and inference. In doing so, the image offers possibilities and interpretations beyond a typical reading where the reader glances at a photograph to reinforce its title or caption. Do not introduce any facts, captions, or other written words. In response to the question “What do you notice?” you may hear: a human hand, blue and white woven patch, white fringe, burgandy and navy sweater.

Step 2: What are you wondering?

After you’ve heard your students’ first observations, you may hear a peppering of questions: What’s the patch for—decoration or a specific use? How was it made? What’s underneath the fibers? Is it wood?

This is a good time to reveal the photo’s caption and other information about the photo. Watch how the conversation shifts from what they believe to be true to discerning the facts about the photo.

Photo Caption:

Imagine charging your phone by plugging it into your shirt. Dr. Jayan Thomas, a professor of Nanoscience Technology at the University of Central Florida, has invented a tiny, ribbon-shaped photovoltaic (solar) cell that can be woven into fabric. The cells are intended to make it easier to charge portable electronics.

Photo courtesy of the University of Central Florida.

Photo Facts:

• Weaving was one of humanity’s earliest inventions—before the domestication of the horse or the invention of the wheel. Besides cloth, early weavers wove baskets, string, rope, and nets to trap small animals.

• Solar cells are made of thin wafers of silicon, the same element that microchips are made of. First, the silicon has to be purified by heating in a vacuum furnace for more than 300 hours at between 1,500 and 2,000°C. That’s hotter than molten lava!

• Solar power is the fastest growing source of electricity in the U.S. People used 41 percent more solar electricity in 2015 than they did in 2014. In comparison, from 2014 to 2015 coal-generated electricity use dropped by 15 percent.

• If the average U.S. household used only solar electricity for a month, it would keep 1,162 lbs of CO2 out of the atmosphere.

• The world’s largest solar plant is in Kamuthi, Tamil Nadu, in southern India. It covers 10 square kilometers (about the area of Washington, D.C.) and is designed to produce enough electricity to power about 150,000 homes.

• An iPhone uses very little power. It can be powered for more than one month with the electricity it would take to power a 100-watt incandescent light bulb for an hour.

Additional resources:

EXPLORE: Just How Powerful Are Today’s Solar Panels? (Infographic)
WATCH: TEDTalk: What happens when school administrators say “yes” to student inventions
MAKE: Build a Pizza Box Solar Oven

Step 3: What next?

1. Does your home, or the home of someone you know, use solar power? What inspired this decision? Why might (or not) solar power be a better choice than other energy sources?

2. Energy-saving, sustainable items like solar panels, electric cars, and organic food tend to be expensive. Is it fair that many people can’t afford them? What can be done to make these products accessible to everyone?

3. The United States government gives far more subsidies (financial assistance) to fossil fuel companies than to renewable energy companies. Why do you think the government supports fossil fuels? What would change if the government supported renewable energy instead?

4. Professor Thomas got the idea for electricity-generating fabric from Back to the Future II, a 1985 movie about a teenager named Marty McFly who has self-lacing electric sneakers. Have you seen a futuristic device in a movie that you wish you could actually invent?

5. Before mechanized looms were invented, people wove all their cloth by hand. Do you know how to make anything by hand? What’s different (maybe even better) about an object you make versus one that you buy?

From starting a kindness club to discussing self-care, there are endless ways teachers can teach students to be kind. Studies show that students who practice social-emotional skills like kindness have more self-control, higher self-esteem, and better test scores. Just as significant, kindness is beautiful—and it makes people happy.

The Random Acts of Kindness Foundation offers a brilliant collection of K-12 standards-aligned activities, lesson plans, and projects. A terrific resource to celebrate Random Acts of Kindness Week and to help you bring a culture of kindness to your classroom.

Its Educator Guide, rooted in social and emotional learning (SEL) and Universal Design for Learning, has a thorough approach to building kindness in your classroom and school. The guide is chock-full of resources: 12 Kindness Concepts, tool kits, annotated lessons, and more!

Visit the Random Acts of Kindness “For Educators” Website.

Download Educator Guide as PDF.

Students will read and respond to the YES! Magazine article, “5 Reasons to Vote Even When You Hate Everything on the Ballot.”

In this article, journalist and millennial Yessenia Funes shares her opinion on why it’s important to vote—even if you hate everything on the ballot. Funes points out what’s at stake, especially for those groups who vote the least, and options if you are dissatisfied with the slate of candidates.

Download lesson as a PDF.

YES! Magazine Article and Writing Prompt

Read the YES! Magazine article by Yessenia Funes,  “5 Reasons to Vote Even When You Hate Everything on the Ballot.”

Writing Prompt:

Favorability ratings for presidential candidates Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump are at a historic low. Some people say they’re not going to vote because there’s no one on the ballot who deserves their vote, so why bother?

Students, please respond to the writing prompt below with an up-to-700-word essay:
Is not voting a responsible option in a presidential election? Weigh in with your argument.

You might consider these two questions when organizing your argument:
• What should you do if you hate the choices on the ballot?
• Go back to the article. Does the author have it right—or wrong—on why you should vote?

Writing Guidelines

The writing guidelines below are intended to be just that—a guide. Please adapt to fit your curriculum.

• Provide an original essay title

• Reference the article

• Limit the essay to no more than 700 words

• Pay attention to grammar and organization

• Be original. provide personal examples and insights

• Demonstrate clarity of content and ideas

• This writing exercise meets several Common Core State Standards for grades 6-12, including W. 9-10.3 and W. 9-10.14 for Writing, and RI. 9-10 and RI. 9-10.2 for Reading: Informational Text.*

*This standard applies to other grade levels. “9-10” is used as an examples.

Evaluation Rubric

Sample Essays

The essays below were selected as winners for the Fall 2016 Student Writing Competition. Please use them as sample essays or mentor text. The ideas, structure, and writing style of these essays may provide inspiration for your own students’ writing—and an excellent platform for analysis and discussion.

“Your Voice, Your Vote,” by Red Sheets, grade 8
Read Red’s essay, Your Voice, Your Vote,” about how a vote isn’t just for a person, but also for an idea, a policy, and, even, your integrity.

“Make a Choice,” by Catherine Skubiz, grade 11
Read Catherine’s essay, “Make a Choice,” about how time and time again voters have proven that when we make the choice to vote, we give ourselves the power to change the nation.

“The Voting Superhero” by Ben Marcus, college freshman
Read Ben’s essay, “The Voting Superhero,” about how we may not be able to fly or have an arsenal of high-tech crime-fighting tools, but we do have the power to vote.

“With Great Asians Comes Great Responsibility,” by Tyler Kim, grade 11
Read Tyler’s essay, “With Great Asians Comes Great Responsibility,” about how some of the same people who urge us to vote are the same people who neglect what should be their real responsibility—caring about people on the margins.

“A Vote for the Voiceless,” by Norbu Sonam, grade 11
Read Norbu’s essay, “A Voice for the Voiceless,” about how his father’s treacherous escape from Tibet to America in 1949 shaped his appreciation for the rights—like voting— that Americans have today.

The YES! National Student Writing Competition is an opportunity for middle school through university students to write about something meaningful, and a chance to write for a real audience—not just you, the teacher.

Each quarter, students are invited to read and write an essay on a selected YES! Magazine article. We divide contestants into four categories: middle school, high school, university, and Powerful Voice (for authors whose essays are powerful and passionate). Winning essays in each category are published on the YES! Magazine website and in our online education newsletter.

Registration for the Fall 2016 student writing competition is CLOSED. Details for our winter contest will be announced on Nov. 10.

Sign up our YES! For Teachers newsletter to be notified about future student writing contests.

Click here for general information about the writing competition.

Read recent featured essays here.

Why Bother to Vote?

This fall, students will read and respond to the YES! Magazine article, Five Reasons to Vote When You Hate Everything on the Ballot. In this article, journalist and millennial Yessenia Funes shares her opinion on why it’s important to vote—even if you hate everything on the ballot. Funes points out what’s at stake, especially for those groups who vote the least, and options if you are dissatisfied with the slate of candidates.