All posts by alondra alderete

Even Fathers Can Be Monsters

A soft thud against my glass window would often be the cause of my most intense and horrifying nightmares. I feared abduction. I feared a man would enter through my window, during the night, when I was at my most vulnerable state and take me away- never to be seen again. My ten year old self couldn’t comprehend why I would be riddled with these thoughts late at night. I didn’t believe in the typical large, intimidating monsters, so what kept me up at night?

I wouldn’t understand until I became older. My fear stemmed from watching too much television, or rather listening too much to the never ending news reporting. Growing up, I remember the news station always being on. Even if no one was sitting on the couch watching TV, spanish conversations on domestic abuse, car accidents, and recents deaths could be heard in the background of our everyday life. My parents prided themselves in always being up to date with the latest news. However, upon doing so, unbeknownst to them, I began absorbing it’s negativity. It would later manifest itself in my dreams as nightmares of abduction.

At night, I remained curled up in bed, with my blankets pulled up to cover most of my face. I laid terrified and wishing for the light of the sun to come piercing through the darkness. I feared the monsters lurking in the shadows of the streets. I feared man.

At ten years old, I was beginning to understand the horrors of mankind. My young mind began to perceive right from wrong. Yet, I couldn’t fully comprehend how people could treat other people in such disturbing ways. How there could be people devoid of emotions and feelings. Those were the monsters that haunted my dreams.

One news story that instilled fear within me was the story of Elisabeth Fritzl. I was fairly young, around eights years old, when I first heard of her tragic young adulthood. Elisabeth Fritzl was born in April 1966. She was reported missing in 1984, at the age of 18. In April 2008, Elisabeth contacted police officials stating that she had been held captive by her father, Josef Fritzl, for 24 years. During her 24 year captivity, Elisabeth was repeatedly raped and tortured in the makeshift celler her father kept her. She bore seven children, all of whom were fathered by her abominable father. Despite being held in the basement of her own home, her mother failed to see what was lying underneath her. Josef would descend downstairs late at night, with the excuse of working on blueprints for the machines he created. According to Elisabeth, he would pay nightly visits, making her watch pornographic films and raping her afterwards. She had been eighteen years old when she disappeared, but he’d began abusing her since the age of eleven.

The story of Elisabeth Fritzl is a story of deceit, betrayal, and true horror. Her father is the embodiment of a monster. When I first heard the story of Elisabeth Fritzl, I only understood that he had been kidnapped by her father and locked in his basement. I was oblivious to the horrors that occurred within the confinements of the basement. I now realize that I only knew the surface of the story. I was far too young to understand the extent of her suffering. It wasn’t until I was fifteen that I stumbled upon a video of “10 Terrible Stories of Abduction” by YouTuber Rob Dyke, that I came to learn the true definition of monsters.

Josef Fritzl was a monster. He took advantage of his own flesh and blood, his daughter Elizabeth. He abused her. He raped her. He hid her. He was a despicable man, full of malice, corruption, and simply heinous actions. Thus, when news broke out of the things he’d done to his daughter, he was immediately incarcerated. However, who is to say that there aren’t any more people out in the world just like Josef Fritzl? He was a monster disguised as a worried father when his daughter went “missing.” He was cruel and never showed remorse.

Monsters are people. They are people who don’t value the lives of others. They are those who rob children of their innocence, knowing fully well that they are defenseless creatures. Monsters are those who have no feelings. They take what they want without thinking of the consequences their wicked actions. These people disguise themselves, always putting up a facade. If there is one thing, I’ve learned from watching the news, it’s that we must be careful of who we trust. We never know with who it is we are shaking hands. We never know what darkness lies within an individual. In the case of Elisabeth Fritzl, the monster lied within her family. The monster was her own very father.

Roses

A rose is just a flower until you give it meaning. Then, it comes to life.

We had been on the phone for over an hour now. I was beginning to think he liked me. I, however, didn’t know how I felt about him. Eventually, we began talking about relationships.

“I was hurt badly,” he recalled, “I know what happens when you give too much of yourself to another person.” I understood perfectly what he meant. I, too, had a similar experience with a boy. He continued, “Think of yourself as a rose, each person you allow your heart to love, you are giving them a petal of your rose. So, every time you open up to someone, allowing them to know you better in an intimate way, you lose a petal. Now, when the perfect person comes your way, your husband, what will you have left of yourself to give him? Will you have enough petals? Or will you have already given everything away? Even though I am a boy, I am a rose too. For these reasons I am careful with who I open up with. I want to have enough petals to give to my future wife.”

I couldn’t help but agree. So, I said goodnight and hung up.

Creative People Everywhere STEAM 2018

The Macaulay Events never fail to entertain me. I always leave the Macaulay building with the sense of wanting to return once again. However, it isn’t the Macaulay building itself that I miss but the people themselves. Every person offered a warm welcome, prepared to assist whenever possible.

I arrived late so on my train ride to the Macaulay building I was worried about being dressed too casual. So when I arrived, I ran my fingers through my hair hoping to look somewhat presentable. As soon as I walked through the doors of the building, I instantly felt relieved. Everyone was dressed so casually. Of course, there were some outliers, like a boy wearing a suit. However, my favorite part of the STEAM event was its casualness. I had been expecting a very professional gathering, however, instead, I found an easy going environment. Even the ITFS were dressed casual and easy to talk to. Everyone got along with one another. What also stuck out to me was the friendliness and respect students and staff had towards one another. Each person I spoke with was pleasant and receptive to learning new information. Definitely going there with expectations to learn something new makes attending these events the more fun.

While I wasn’t able to visit as many projects as I had hoped, I was able to tell the effort that many students placed into doing their projects. I thought mine was creative until I saw one with vines and leaves. It was wonderful to see the creativity of Macaulay students. In the Makerspace, I was privileged to see how the creativity of those around me unfolded. Macaulay students who I had never met before were creating masterpieces of their own. At times, I couldn’t help myself but approach them. There was one girl, for instance, who was handcrafting her own keychains. The amount of detail she placed into her drawing was inspiring. In the space of a small circle, she was able to create a beautiful flower drawing that I actually contemplated asking her if I could have it for myself. I appreciated this Makerspace because it allowed me the opportunity to learn more about my peers. Based on what they choose for their bookmarks, I learned their interests, their hobbies, their likes, and dislikes. It offered a space for interaction with other Macaulay students that I usually don’t see. I will definitely remember this wonderful experience.  😛

The Life of a Martyr

I, who trembled, a martyr weary of poles and zones,

The moaning of whose sobs created my gentle roll,

Eternal spinner of her dark flowers with yellow suckers

I miss Europe which remained, like a woman on her knees…

I have seen an island tossing on my sides the quarrels

Whose delirious droppings of noisy birds with yellow eyes

–Is it in these, when through my fragile ropes

Million golden men sank backward to sleep!

But, in truth, I was lost in the foliage of caves,

Every moon is a storm into the birdless air

Acrid love has drunk carcass that have been rescued

O let me kneel and the Hsnseatic sailboats sail;

If I want water topped with violet fog,

Cold puddles pierced the reddening sky like a wall,

A delicious jam for good poets

A boat as fragile as sunlight,

No longer can I be spotted with small electric moons,

Follow in the wake, escorted by black seahorses,

Nor cross through with blows of cudgels

Nor swim under the burning funnels

Flaming Fire