Pop! goes the bubble

I’ve lived in a bubble for most of my life–first in an Asian bubble in my old suburban town, then in my current top 1% community. This summer, I’ve had the chance to escape North Texas and headed for a camp down south near San Antonio.

The two weeks I have spent there were at first incredibly scary, as the prospect of a sea of strange faces daunted this little introvert. Out of my emotional destitution, I clung onto my classmates, who also went to my camp, like algae on a rock. I believed that I was inept at making new friends; others counselors’ smiles morphed into jeers in my mind.

However, as I slowly started to become weary of my old friends, my self-induced paralysis lost all its power over me. I started sitting next to new people during lunchtime and introduced myself. Through this, I found out that new doesn’t have to be bad, that familiar warmth can burn. I broke free from my own trap and stepped into the cold water whose waves were greeting me the whole time, nipping at my reluctant toes. The new friends I’ve made are similar to some of my friends here at home, but it’s nice to meet new people nevertheless.

The second week went by much smoother after I learned my lesson the week before. I immediately opened myself up to others and their weird inside jokes (which I also got into). Even though we were all counselors, we had two breaks throughout the day, and through these precious few hours, we got to know each other a bit too well. We shared ramen. We found a bucket of ice cream together and shared with everyone in the dining hall. We laughed. We cried. We learned to love one another.

One moment that I remember right now is the last few moments of my first week. The dining hall was filled up by a tortuous snake of eager counselors ready to feel some real AC. I pulled out a deck of playing cards that I stuck in my pocket since the first day of camp and asked someone I met the day before to play a game of cards with me. She called some of our fellow counselors, and we settled down and started to play gingerly. It wasn’t until fifteen minutes into the game that all the walls between us were finally smashed down; we let loose and ended up staying until the last of the last finally checked out for the week. It’s moments like these that I’ll keep in my pocket… along with a deck of cards.




Hey Internet! It’s one of those midnight bloggin’ sessions!

Today’s post is rather personal. I have a friend named Rebecca, and she was in my chemistry and Latin classes. One day, right after a chem lab, she started crying in pure pain and told us that her back hurt like it had never did before. Little did we know that a few days later, she was diagnosed with a form of bone cancer. I have seen her a few occasions after this, but sometimes, she seems very weak and saddened. This saddens me as well.

Some high schoolers focus on what type of club they can find, what type of leadership position they can hoard, and what type of this and that they can do in order to be competitive in the Ivies race. Some high schoolers drop classes to boost one number and fret everyday about numbers. Numbers. Life is more than numbers. Enjoy life every day, and live to your fullest potential. I think Rebecca and her courage has taught me, for sure, a lot about what life really means. She’s taught me to never give up, to always keep a smile on my face, to appreciate what I have in my life, to tear down barriers… she fuels my passion for living in such a depressing world (aka high school). Step by step, Rebecca will go far in life.

Rebecca, you’re probably never going to read this, but your freshdogs are rooting for you! We know you have the great spirit and tenacity to overcome this obstacle in the road we call life. You can do it! We’ll be sure to visit you over the summer. You’re an inspiration to us all!

Click here to learn more about her.