Category — About Faces

It is easy to overlook the things we take for granted, to take advantage of, to accept without question. Often, as human beings, we do not realize what we take for granted unless it is taken away from us. For me, I realized that I took my family for granted because I only realized how precious they were when my family was torn apart. [Read more →]

“What is the difference between solitude and loneliness?” I asked my friend Hayley, catching her off guard. “Umm, you choose solitude?” She answered in the form of a question. It was spring and the two forms of singularity had been on my mind since my four-hour bus ride from New York City back home to DC. To me, loneliness implied pain, and solitude; peace. I wasn’t sure of a concrete conclusion yet, however, and I wanted another’s input. Her answer threw me for a loop, as I’m sure my question had done to her. [Read more →]

“Hello. My name is Yuliya,” I introduce myself to you. You quickly glance in the direction that this simple greeting came from and see a strange composition of green eyes, an average nose, full lips, high cheekbones, and pale skin. You see my face and immediately associate my name and who I am with this face. However, I warn you to proceed with extreme caution for things are not always what they seem. My face, the mask I present to the world, tells nothing about who I truly am. In fact, it is a master trickster, leading people to conclusions that are most often false. [Read more →]

Just Me

There’s not much more you can say about me than you can about the average teenager attending college and living with his family on the outskirts of New York bordering New Jersey.  I was born in a small Pakistani city, where I stayed until I was about two.  We moved to the country’s capital afterwards, stayed there for three years, only to settle back in my birth city.  It was then that we immigrated to the United States, a transition that, as a student, proved fairly easy.  Having studied in a school based on Canadian standards back in Pakistan, grasping the English language didn’t prove difficult.  Also, those same schools were rigorous and had given me enough of a standing that education did not prove to be a challenge for nearly four years.  It was then that I found algebra, the most difficult and exciting subject for me, even today.  At the end of the day, all other classes took second seat to math, which still doesn’t come easy to me. [Read more →]

My name is Christian Iezzi and at age 14 a rather traumatic experience helped me look at my life in a new way. While on vacation with my family in Florida I had an incident in which a slip on a boat caused a debilitating injury to my right leg; my kneecap popped out of its socket. My first reaction upon seeing that my leg was now badly mangled was panic, as I wondered if I would ever be able to walk again. My second reaction was how just seconds ago I was physically able to lead a perfectly normal life. This experience certainly changed me and how felt about life. Before this happened I felt physically impervious to anything and I took everything for granted. [Read more →]

“You’ve reached Deanna’s answering machine. I’m not here right now so please leave a message.” I hung up. She was over an hour late, and as a particularly impatient person, this was absolutely unacceptable. Half out of restlessness, and half out of anger, I left our designated meeting spot and made my way to Central Park. I tried my best to avoid the crowd: the dough-faced tourist, the fervent jogger, even the city squirrel (for they are a fine breed!) Lumbering down the road, treading on twigs and branches, I spotted a shadowy underpass, cool and damp from the archway above it, and made my way over.

I had been there for only a few seconds before someone had pilfered my wallet from my back pocket and emptied its contents on to the pavement. “What just happened?” he said, as he picked up two five-dollar notes from the ground. He came closer, “What just happened?” His stare was locked, and for thirty seconds we looked at each other; just two people in the same space, breathing simultaneously. Bewildered and confused, I did not answer. He took a step back, then another. Step after step, he slinked away while I edged closer to my freedom. Finally, he ran off.

For minutes, I stood as stoic as the trees surrounding me, and, having deemed it safe, I lowered my branches to pick up the wallet. Defiled and empty, it looked foreign in my hands and, as I stood in contemplation, I did not know how to react. I was neither sad nor happy; I was clear. That moment, after my robbery, I felt the exhilaration of living for the first time. I did not stand separated from life. Instead, I dove straight into the stream of being and existed only in the indispensable present that surrounded me. By remarkable means I had escaped a precarious situation, unlike anything I had encountered in the past. I asked myself, “Did he have a knife? A gun? Did he have a love of credit cards or keys? Would he memorize my address and could it happen again?” I didn’t care. The future and the past had fallen away.
Surviving even the most trivial encounter had reminded me of my humanity. I had crossed the threshold of danger and survived. These moments in which we seem to die, but are reborn can never be forgotten because they are what gives us hope. As I stood preoccupied with the metaphysical, I heard a ring. “Hey, sorry I’m late,” she said. “You won’t believe what happened to me on the train!”

  “What happened to you? Were you in a fight? Why are your cheeks all blown up?” These were some of the questions asked by the teachers who saw the aftermath of my oral surgery to remove my wisdom teeth, when I was back at my desk Monday morning. I suffered with intense pain on both sides of my gums for months, and decided to have all four of my wisdom teeth removed on a Friday afternoon.
Instead of pushing the surgery off until the summer, or a later date, I decided to have it done during the school year. I could not deal with the pain anymore, and felt that if I would delay the procedure, it would only worsen. I went into Dr. Jacobson’s office on a spring day, after I came home from school. He gave me shot after shot in the four corners of my mouth. The injections made my stomach feel as though I was on the steep drop of a rollercoaster. My mother is afraid of anesthesia, so I was given nitrous oxide instead. At first I was on a high, but after a while the effect wore off. The doctor did not realize it, and sang a silly song to the assistant saying, “Oh, Rachel has no idea what’s going on…” [Read more →]

How can we be sure that we will succeed in the future? What is the right course of action? Nobody can see into the future, and no one has the perfect answer. However, most people have the general idea that they must put their children through school in order to be educated parts of our society. When my parents enrolled me into PS 200, they put me into a special program called the Globe Program. This was for bilingual Russian children, most of whom just recently immigrated to the United States. My parents’ decision to enroll me into this program has had a tremendous impact on my life.
Throughout our twelve years in elementary school, junior high school, and high school, we come across many teachers, the majority of whom we probably were either indifferent to or we disliked. However, there is usually that one teacher whom you actually appreciated, and one, who you realize several years later, made a big impact on your future.
I had the privilege of being taught by such a teacher for four years of my life at PS 200. My class stuck together for all six years at PS 200 as a part of the Globe Program for bilingual students. Mrs. Maceczek was a Russian teacher who prepared us for the rigors that awaited us in junior high school and even high school. Compared to the other students in the school, we were handling much more complex material and learning it at a faster pace. Also, as an addition to the city requirements, we learned Russian language and literature. Discipline was also heavily enforced. I remember times when I would not like going to school because I would get a lot of homework and we would get reprimanded for fooling around. At some points during the year, schoolwork was actually becoming difficult to stay on track with.
Besides being adept at math and English, Mrs. Maceczek believed in the importance of cultural education from a very young age. She often took us on trips to theatres and ballets. I remember watching Tchaikovsky’s “Nutcracker” ballet, listening to Beethoven’s “Symphony No.9”, and producing our own shows based on popular Broadway musicals.
Although a rigorous curriculum was certainly a focal point of the program, one of the most important aspects of Globe was that the class stuck together for all five years of elementary school. With the exception of one or two students who were either kicked out for poor performance or moved to a different borough, all of the students stayed together. To this day, I am a friend with some of the people from that graduation class. I met my best friend in the first grade of that school, and we later went on to Brooklyn Technical High School, and now we are both attending Baruch. There are other people whom I still keep in touch with. I feel like this program has helped me form and solidify tight friendships that I otherwise would not have been able to shape.
Now that I am a freshman at Baruch, I understand that those three years with Mrs. Maceczek in the Globe Program were what make school so much easier for me now. I see students around me suffering; trying to get all of their homework done, completing assignments, and trying not to fail exams. I believe that it was Mrs. Maceczek who instilled a sense of diligence, perseverance, and the desire to succeed in me and my fellow students, which will help me, achieve my goals in my adult life.

This is only a test.