Nicole Wang

Today, we not only mourn a life, we mourn a fighter; competitor in the war for human rights. This war; this battle. What is it, really? Minutes after her announced death, everyone rushes to call her a fighter. But why? Even in death the human sees life in terms of battle. Fighting, fighting, fighting. Sweet, powerful, ruthless, Ginsburg will be remembered as a person who fought endlessly, tirelessly; to the day she died; to the day when she was stronger than most, if not all, at her weakest point. A role model for all, fighting, fighting in such a manmade war: Women Vs. Men; Gay Vs. Straight; Coloured Vs. Bleached; Body Vs. Mind; Life Vs, Liberty. It is not about politics anymore; it is about hope and strength. As soon as I open my phone, I see a post saying, “And now we fight. For Ruth Bader Ginsburg. We fight. Just like she did.” This generation was born to be soldiers. From birth we fight to win wars we never wanted; to win prizes we should have already had; to win just to settle. From birth we have been drowning, fighting against the tide of white supremacy, hate, and love. Scrupulously, we dance; play in this game programmed for us to lose. We don’t do it just for Ginsburg, but for ourselves. 

Isn’t is so gut-wrenchingly insane how this war was started by the same men in looks as the ones who will decide the fate following her death? Once again, the fate of women is in the hands of men. Once again, the future of the brown, black, and all muted tones in the mosaic of white-washed history, will be decided by white men. This world we live in is so convoluted and twisted, that is, if Franz Kafka himself could possibly begin to know what oppression is for, define for, a woman, for a human, as a white, straight man. Look at our upcoming presidential election, the one dear Ginsburg will not be replaced by until fairer eyes look upon the future of America; we have two white, straight men who were born in a generation so unlike ours, that they were able to grow into livelihood without facing torment of what is considered politics. As straight, cis, Christian, white men they were not born to fight like we were. They were not born to fight like Ginsburg was. They had time to develop arrogance and pride, we had time to learn our place. They were not born to be remembered as fighters because our world does not require straight, cis, Christian, white men to fight.  We were born to struggle because our world requires us to lose a part of who we are to gain freedom for us all. 

Ginsburg was a legend; a true feminist icon. However, we cannot make the same mistakes as the ones before us. While a heroine of our generation and lifelong protector of human rights, Ginsburg maintained a strong colonist ideal which is shown in her attitude towards the indigenous people (Sherill Vs. Oneida). I say this to not insult the dead, but to show the young girls and boys who look up to her that they can be like her and more. Everyone’s character can survive improvement and it is important as historians, as scientists, that we do not shape history to support our own ideals. It is our responsibility, as a unit, to not simply revere our icons as obsequious, mindless followers, but to question the ethics of those who symbolize a morally just future. 

Ginsburg was extraordinary in the fight for women’s rights She went places no one else did; she set a precedent for what could be done. Ruth Bader Ginsburg gave her life to help women break down the walls fenced by snivelling men. She is a legacy; a feminist symbol for young, innocent girls born to change what is wrong; what is unjust. She was powerful, liberal, radical; terms meant for people who live their life for the dream of justice. I’d not falter to call her Herculean if such greek myths did not depict powerful women as evil and loving ones as weak. She is her own story, rounding out the epic poem told by the Iliad of other awe-inspiring women. 

Ginsburg has saved my life, the life of my family, and the life of so many women born into traditional misogyny. Specifically for me, her representation of Goldfarb in Califano Vs. Goldfarb allowed widowers, like my father, to receive social security benefits for their families after their wives have passed. She inadvertently put my sister through college without financial struggle, allowed my scared friends to get abortions, supported the dream of marriage for my gay friends, and taught billions what is it like to fight for change. She was not perfect, not close. But she was a hero to so many and we must acknowledge her as such. 

How will historians remember this day? How will historians remember this year? Will they forget her like they did so many powerful women before her? No, they will not, they cannot, because we, the generation of soldiers,  of fighters, will not let them. We will share her story. Her mistakes, her triumphs, her hopes, and regrets. We will push her radical goal of equality until there are 9 women justices; until 9 women justices is no longer a radical idea. We will fight until the thirst for war is over, Until we, as strong, powerful, radical, liberal, women, can die not as a martyr for a cause, but as a peaceful soul; until strong, powerful, radical women are awarded so commonly, it is the norm. Rest in peace, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, we will soldier on in your name.

Fabianna Rincon ’21

Once upon a time there was a paradise – a gorgeous land of beaches with crystal clear waters and mountains that stretched up to the heavens. Rivers filled with every animal imaginable flowed up and down the beautiful landscape, leading up to shimmering waterfalls that fell from so high, it looked like gods were pouring the water down for the people. 

The second you entered paradise, your heart instantly happier. Blue skies and palm trees were just outside the window, and you’d enter by crossing the multicolored pathways decorated with every color imaginable. Once through, you’d sprint to greet your familia – colliding with primos in a hug and kissing abu on the cheek. They’d lead you to the car, which then began the journey to your abuelo’s castle. The gates swung open to reveal three stories of white cement walls, with arching windows and cool tile paveways. The garden had magical flowers that opened at only at night to reveal their gaping rose colored jaws. Inside, Abu would start on the food – arepas, cachapas, empanadas, and the sweetest fried platanos that would melt in your mouth when you ate them. Tate would be in his office, and he’d always let you lay on the threaded hammock that stretched across his book cases. Outside, you could lay on the grass on the patio, bathing in the sunlight that showered down on you. The sun was always bright in paradise. 

Abuelo Rene lived in the middle of the wilderness, or at least that’s how it seemed when you’d visit. His garden was full of towering palms and gorgeous flowers. Every bird imaginable would flutter from tree to tree – he’d be able to tell you the species of every one. In the garden there was an 80 year old tortoise, who’d hide from visitors but show his face to those who were lucky. The lucky ones would also get Abuelo Rene’s oreos, with chocolate cookies you’d split in half while sitting on his lap. And there, he’d tell you stories of his adventures in La Guaira, where the beach was never farther than a block away and Tommaselli’s served the most delicious ice cream you’d ever tasted. 

In paradise, all of the places were beautiful, with names that rolled off your toungue. There was Mira Mar and Siete Mares, La Guaira and El Avila. Caracas had the beautiful city scape with stores that sold anything you could ever dream of (Abu would buy you anything you asked). Margarita was an island littered with tiny houses, with women who sold the most delicious empanadas outside of the iglesia. 

On the beaches, the wind blew your hair back just the right way as you heard waves crashing in the distance. Cousins, siblings, and friends would join you to dive into the jewel blue waves. You would wait until just the right second to submerge – the moment when, if you were lucky, you could get caught in the eye of the wave, and look up to see crystalline waters peaking over your head.

Back on shore, tias and abuelas sit sunbathing, enjoying the absolutely perfect weather. That’s what my mami always told me. “80 degrees every day”. The sun was always bright in paradise. 

My paradise was Venezuela, a country right at the northernmost peak of South America. I grew up hearing about and visiting paradise, getting to see the fairytale up close. But like all fairytales, villains exist and problems occur. At first visits lasted for months, but over the years we began to visit for less and less amounts of time. At first, my memories of paradise are of semillita preschool, and christmases at Abu’s castle. My last memory of Venezuela was sitting in a bullet proof car, watching sirens outside my window as we drove as fast as we could to the castle. Venezuela isn’t the place where the stories whispered to us on car rides home occurred – where the fairytales took place. But the sun still shines in paradise, even when the clouds are covering the light. I’m confident that the happy ending will come for my fairytale, and i’ll be able to take my familia to make their own memories in paradise one day.

By Lindsay Wong ’20

Heritage sites are at the heart of a place’s tourism and history. World heritage sites are a place or building that UNESCO (the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization) deems as having special importance and should be conserved and protected. They are valuable sites that are often some of the most popular tourist sites of a country. For example, Nara and Itsukushima Shrine are both UNESCO world heritage sites and also the most-visited tourist spots of their regions. Heritage sites have many benefits for humanity and countries alike.

Heritage helps to build and strengthen community. Heritage sites have historical and symbolic meaning, thereby adding character and distinctiveness to a place. Many cultural and religious events take place at heritage sites, instilling the whole site with meaning. In many cases, such events can define a place. This increases social inclusion as people of all ages can come together to appreciate a heritage site and learn about their local history, creating a community feeling among people with shared interests.

Heritage sites represent a place’s history and culture and are intrinsically linked to tradition. Tourists travel all around the world to visit heritage sites and get a feel of that country or city’s identity. At these sites, tourists learn about a place’s culture, history and the significance of the site. They also learn to appreciate the culture and history attached to that site. Learning about different cultures helps us to become better global citizens and approach situations with a more global outlook. 

In addition to heritage sites being valuable in building community, these sites also support a sustainable environment. The adaptive reuse and conservation processes of heritage sites help to keep communities sustainable. Such regeneration projects have both environmental and economic advantages. Heritage also provides jobs to lots of people and maintains all types of businesses, including those not involved in tourism.

Heritage is incredibly important and heritage sites provide so many benefits to the community. As global citizens, we should strive to conserve these sites and continue fostering a community feeling by visiting and appreciating heritage sites, especially in such a fast-changing world.

Rohan Lokanadham ’23

My heritage. Something so simple. By dictionary definition, heritage is someone’s unique family identity, their culture, values, traditions, and sometimes religion. Throughout my life, I have struggled a lot with being confident of my heritage. Living in an American society, it can sometimes be difficult to be confident about your culture with people who know nothing about it. I have finally learned the importance of heritage though, and I now share it with friends who might want to learn about my culture. 

I live in a town, populated mostly by white people, which made expressing my culture a little difficult. If I’m being completely honest, I was embarrassed of my heritage, and this came from people making jokes about being Indian, and similar experiences in which I was made fun of for my culture. In my opinion, some of these jokes can be considered as normalized racism and overgeneralization. There have been many occasions where I have been told that I “smell like curry”, just because they saw that I was Indian. Some people might say that I shouldn’t take these comments to heart and that they are “just jokes”, but that is normalizing it even more. This is blatant racism at a smaller scale, and these little things can offend and affect people. It affected me personally, more than I even realized. I became embarrassed of my culture, and where I come from. 

I have also been told that I am “not Indian enough”, or “basically white.” I have never understood these labels, as they are just a play on stereotypes. What makes me “not Indian” and what makes me “white”? I am connected with my culture and heritage, and I am also a product of the American society that I have grown up in. These labels come from the Indian community itself, and I think it is why we normalize the racism against us. We tend to make fun of our own culture, which teaches others that it is okay to do as well. We stereotype Indians ourselves, and I think it needs to stop. More and more generations of Indians are now growing up in the American society, but we should not forget where we come from. Stereotyping ourselves gives being Indian a negative connotation, one which is not even true. I am proud to be Indian and the fact that I have learned from American culture as well.

Naomi Gould ’22

Like many other teens, social media is a staple in my daily life. I’ll open up Instagram and scroll through stories that say “Unfollow me if you don’t support the Black Lives Matter movement” and “No, I won’t be friends with you if you support a racist, homophobic, and xenophobic president.”

As someone who once posted similar statements, I am all too familiar with the exasperating feeling that ethical common ground on obvious problems is unattainable. We should be able to address topics such as racism, climate change, and COVID-19 without it devolving into a partisan struggle. Despite sharing the same frustration as the people who make these posts, I get uneasy when I see them, as they are unintentionally fueling the very problem they intend to stop.

Along with a rise in political polarization has come extreme party loyalty, threatening our ability to tackle key issues democratically. There now exists this notion, both on the right and the left, that one must support the doctrine of their party and oppose that of the other, no matter the specific issue. Nuanced political and social issues have been viewed as black and white, making many unwilling to listen to another point of view. A recent example of this is the primarily conservative All Lives Matter response to the Black Lives Matter movement, despite racism being complex enough an issue for a bipartisan, rational response.

In this political environment, it’s easy for liberals to categorize all conservative viewpoints as immoral or unethical and vice versa. However, I’d argue that when trying to fight for any given issue, saying “I cannot be friends with someone who doesn’t support this cause” worsens the problem.

Pushing people away, even if they seem to hold the most egregious or unethical opinions, perpetuates the concept that you are right and they are wrong, that the issue is entirely black and white, and that a side must be chosen. No one will pick your side while being unfriended, shut away, and shamed. Understanding our democracy was built in a way that requires compromise to function, the key to fighting for causes you care about must combat party loyalty, not encourage it.

The good news is that we’re already aware of how to achieve this solution. So many teens have reposted calls for “normalizing changing your mind,” and open-mindedness is critical in promoting unity and understanding. The bad news is that we’re approaching the solution from a hypocritical and one-sided standpoint. Many of these same teens continue to post the same polarizing right-and-wrong statements, conveying the belief that they are correct and no longer need to grow.

Though it’s difficult to broaden our perspectives when we believe we’re in the right, we must remember that growth can occur in both directions on the political spectrum. In order to see progress, in order to allow for compromise, we must reject the notion of party loyalty by ceasing to approach politics from an all-or-nothing standpoint.

Simran Sharma ’22

Ever since its Broadway debut in 2015, Hamilton has been a smash hit, encapsulating audiences much wider than just the musical theater crowd. Just less than a month ago, a filmed recording of the musical was released to Disney+. The quick, explosive success of the Broadway show has turned it into a household name and has since sparked a fascination with the historical founding of our nation, which, without Hamilton, people likely wouldn’t have found.  However, amidst the rise in political activism we’ve recently experienced on social media, many have criticized the musical for glorifying our Founding Fathers. Above all, Hamilton is a source of entertainment. While the show definitely does inform, it’s ultimate goal, entertainment, is treated with priority, lending the musical to dramatization of certain events and the erasure of others. While the criticism of Hamilton for romanization of our history and prominent figures is definitely valid, the fair rebuttal that Hamilton is a broadway play, not documentary, stands. That being said, for a production which prides itself in the diversity within its cast, its subject matter may not be up to the standard which it claims to hold itself to. So, what did Hamilton get wrong, and what can we learn from it?

By far, the most prominent qualm with Hamilton’s portrayal of our history is with its treatment of slavery and histroical minority representation. While it does mention slavery through various lines in the musical, it greatly diminishes the prominence and effect it had during our nation’s founding. Slaveholding is used as a jab from one Founding Father to another in a rap battle, rather than being addressed with the weight it truly held. These flippant mentions of slavery may have been a commentary on how slavery was really treated at the time, but the musical doesn’t do enough to show the profound impact of it in other ways. Hamilton’s inclusion of John Laurens as a champion of civil rights, although a clear attempt at addressing slavery, comes off as a perpetuation of white saviourism due to the lack of any POC mention, aside from a brief nod to Sally Hemmings. Although the institution of slavery is mentioned, the musical fails to make it apparent that enslaved individuals were active participants in the Revolution. Additionally, Hamilton is portrayed as an abolitionist. While he did personally hold anti-slavery views, he never worked to enact change on them, and his financial system was highly dependent on slavery in the South.

Aside from an exaggeration of his abolitionist status, the portrayal of Alexander Hamilton was inaccurate, or details were specifically omitted, in other aspects. Hamilton’s politics were greatly watered down to cater him to the 21st Century. His distrust of the popular vote and belief in lifetime presidential and senate terms were never mentioned. Asides from a few vague statements regarding banking, his politics were left out. Additionally, his rivalry with Aaron Burr was greatly overstated so as to create a compelling narrative, whereas the truly prominent rivalry in Hamilton’s life was with Thomas Jefferson.

A recurring theme in Hamilton is “who lives, who dies, who tells your story?” This question truly parallels the issues I’ve outlined. The way Hamilton frames the history of our nation’s founding has made an impact in how many people see our Founding Fathers. The story was told in a way which reveres our founders, and in many eyes, that is our history. Despite the historical inaccuracies throughout Hamilton, personally, I love the musical and I’m sure many feel the same way. Honestly, I sometimes feel guilty about it. I hope that by educating myself about the realities of our history and pointing out the flaws in its portrayal, I can continue to enjoy Hamilton, but I remain unsure.

Fabianna Rincon ’21

“Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore”

These words have beckoned immigrants arriving at our great nation for generations, offering a message of hope to those looking to achieve the American Dream. But in the age of immigrant villainization, can these words truly bear the same effect?

We’re told immigrants steal our jobs, our profits, our livelihoods. We’re told they come only to harbor danger and fear. What happened to our great American mixing pot, a culmination of diverse hopes and dreams from every corner of the world. The vast majority of Americans are descended from immigrants. Our founding fathers were the first. How could a country built on immigration turn so easily against it?

17 years ago, my parents fled Venezuela in the hopes of finding a better life in the United States. Like millions of others, they came for the American Dream. They’ve worked endlessly to ensure a better life for their children, a life that simply couldn’t be reached in Venezuela. They were the tired, huddled masses that yearned to breathe free.

While our attitude towards the immigrant has worsened, I hold hope that we can return to the sympathy we once had – the sympathy that has beckoned millions towards our nation. The villainization of the immigrant may just be the most un-American value there is. We were all once the tired, poor, wretched refuses of our teeming shore. And I know that we, as Americans, have it in our hearts to view these immigrants with empathy.

Saanvi Nayar ’22

My poster reads “AZN for BLM”, bold letters demanding to be seen, the artist who drew them too stubborn to hear otherwise. As I explain the meaning of tomorrow’s protest, my little cousin traces my letters on her own poster board, subsequently arranging six markers in a line – red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple. I mention how her rainbow color scheme correlates to Pride, and as only a Didi would, I explain all that word has come to emulate. 

She colors back and forth, meticulously placing the marker back to pick up the consecutive shade. And as I continue to explain, my brother sits down to say “Why don’t normal people have a month to themselves?”

She replies with an eye roll and asks me to continue. 

At the age of ten, she detects the trace of mindless privilege laced in that one question. A single, isolated question that has the potential to either be squandered as immaturity, or egged on as a manifestation of disturbing ignorance. A question that seemed to be mindless mockery in my twelve year old brother’s mind, yet proved otherwise – miseducation at its finest. 

I suppress my anger to look up “Martha P. Johnson”, the revered drag queen who pioneered Pride month through partly initiating the Stonewall riots. And, yet, as I begin to relay her activism and legacy, countless names of hate-crime victims fly through my fingertips to the search engine: Matthew Wayne Shepard (gay), Paris Cameron (transgender), Ellie Marie Washtock (nonbinary). 

My brother sits, ears open, yet heart seemingly closed. I type “Avinshu Patel”, and begin to recount his story: having committed suicide, his last words on a Facebook post begged that he was not to blame for being born gay.

My brother pauses, eyebrows furled, and says “I’ve never heard of a gay Indian person before.”

At the age of twelve, he begins to recognize his own mindless privilege in that one comment. A single, isolated comment that perpetuates privilege through culture – the LGBTQ+ community remains as one of the most taboo topics of discussion at Indian dinner tables. 

Section 377 of the Indian Penal Code stated “Whoever voluntarily has carnal intercourse against the order of nature..shall be punished with imprisonment”. It was unanimously ruled unconstitutional as of September 6, 2018, inaugurating the country to the fight for LGBTQ+ rights. Indian members of the community still do not have the right to marry or adopt; they continue to face hurdles including sexual assault, discrimination in the workplace, and more often than not, death. 

India’s impending legal battle was foreseen by not only citizens, but LGBTQ+ rights activists across the world; however, the true fight begins in our homes. We are not only conditioned to ignore the topic as a whole, but moreover brought up to stigmatize the embrace of sexuality. There is no discourse regarding the fluidity of sexual orientation or preference, much less any conversation involving the “s-e-x word”. Our culture is too often seen as conservatively traditionalist, and that is the rooted issue: LGBTQ+ justice must no longer be perceived as a ‘mature topic’, but rather, a fundamental right.

The conversation begins with us – our generation is responsible for recognizing June as Pride month at the dinner table, mentioning the latest LGBTQ+ hate crime headline on the way to practice. This stigmatized mindset is parallel to that of racism, sexism, and every other form of oppression, being internalized through generations. 

On the way home from my cousins, my brother sits and looks out the window. Turning to me to talk about his friend, he mentions, “His mom said she would disown him if he became gay.”

Stigmatizing sexuality to the extent of imposing fear does not uphold the notoriously idealized virtue of honor in Indian families, nor the prized moral of reputation. As a culture that takes pride in academic and financial success, we must preach pride in identity. Pride in the embrace of the LGBTQ+ community, whether that be in the form of an ally or member. Pride in the conceptual ideology that this embrace does not deter from a moral standing in society. 

“Why don’t normal people have a month to themselves?” Breaking the stigma demolishes the standard that normalcy equates being straight. 

“I’ve never heard of a gay Indian person before.” Introducing the conversation allows for the realization that the LGBTQ+ community encompasses every race, age, preference, and orientation.

Being the generation that approaches this cultural taboo head-on epitomizes the meaning of Pride. It is simply not enough to take pride in being an ally to the LGBTQ+ community; one must be able to take pride in the fact that their culture perpetuates the same.