Ode to the Sea – due 9.27

I loved going to my mother’s office.  There was something about getting up before dawn on a day where I didn’t have school and the anticipation of the train ride that made me love it so much.  Seeing the larger than life buildings and masses of people, and smelling the oh-so-wonderful subway station smell we all know too well, was all part of my mother’s world that was foreign to me when I was a child.

My favorite part about these city trips with my mother was always looking out the window at the other huge buildings, the tiny taxis that resembled my brother’s toy cars, and the Statue of Liberty. She works on the 36th floor of a building on Wall Street, so to my 8-year old self, it was as though I was looking down from the highest building.  It was astounding to think that my mother saw this every day.  I asked her about it, but she replied saying that she never noticed it that often.  I didn’t understand how she didn’t, it was just so amazing to me at that age.

The Statue of Liberty was something I knew about from school.  I knew that it used to be copper, but turned green.  I knew that the tablet the woman held had the date July 4, 1776 inscribed.  I knew that it was a gift from France. I knew that it was a symbol of freedom and opportunity for many immigrants back in our nation’s history.  I knew from television that it was a famous attraction, like the Empire State Building.

I visit my mother every week at work, and I don’t remember the last time I ran to the window and clung to the windowsill to peek at the Statue of Liberty. I live steps from the Empire State building, but I don’t know when the last time I really looked at it or gave it much thought.  I’ve never visited either, and I don’t want to.  However, thinking back on all those times staring at the Statue, and hearing the history of it in school, I can’t help but imagine myself staring at the Statue from the deck of a boat, after weeks of traveling from my home, about to enter a foreign country instead of a window, holding a hot chocolate from Dunkin’ Donuts.

Thinking about all those people, who sacrificed so much, I feel incredibly fortunate. Even my grandparents, who came to America much later, sacrificed a lot when they moved to America, just so my parents, my siblings and I and our potential children would have a better life. If they could do something as bold as move to a country with little English and money, I know I can do that too. I can make them proud of me, and their obstacles worth it.

The Statue reminds me of all the hardships those immigrants endured, but also the diversity of the population, and how everyone I meet has a different ethnic background, and story.  There are few places in the world where so many cultures from all over the world are seen, and I am so lucky to live in one of them.

Many of the immigrants faced discrimination and rejection, but remained hopeful for the future.  That Statue was their beacon of hope, and over time its symbolism has dwindled, but its history remains the same and holds the legacy of thousands. The Statue of Liberty doesn’t mean the same as it did, it has become a mere tourist attraction, but it still holds a special place in my heart.

 

 

When you live and grow up in a city like New York, you learn things pretty quickly. You learn that even when the sign is red, people still cross the street, plan ahead when taking the MTA anywhere, and that snow gets very old, very fast. As a kid and even now, snow has always been one of those things that fascinated me because of how pure it seemed to look. Winter looked the complete opposite of summer, where everything was green, the trees were bushy and full of life, and everyone walked around in barely anything. During winter, everything was a nice fluff of white, the trees were bare and everyone was wrapped so tightly in coats that they’d have trouble putting their arms down. When I was younger and it snowed, I was the most ecstatic person in the world. I immediately wanted to go out and play, make snowmen and jump around, but when I looked at my family members’ faces, they were anything but impressed.

As I got older, my love for snow didn’t fade, but it turned into something else entirely, something more mature. I didn’t want to go out in the snow anymore and run and play, but I wanted to sit and watch as it fell across the streets, the sidewalk, the trees and even on people. One thing I always liked about the snow was that it made everything a clean slate. Cars would drive over streets enough to make tire tracks in the snow, but by the morning, it was reset like no car had ever touched the street. Another thing that I always liked about the snow in a city like New York was how everything seemed to quiet at night. Little to no cars were driving around, no one was walking around outside, and it was almost like the world was at a standstill, and the only thing that was moving was the snow softly hitting the ground.

I chose this picture because this photo represents everything I see when I see snow. Many people see snow as a cold inconvenience or a reason that they have to break out their shovel to dig out their car. I see snow the way this artist portrays it in the picture; a serene, calm wonderland of white that makes you feel at peace, but interested at the same time because you don’t know what’s out there when everything is covered in white. Snow is the one thing I can look at and think absolutely nothing about because all I have to do is look and admire. To me, this picture represents a new start, a clean state, or a new beginning, whether it be in work, in school or in life. It represents the fact that regardless of what has happened in the past, everyone can and deserves to have a clean slate to work on. They shouldn’t forget that the past is there under all the snow, but they can make something new out of what is given to them. To me, snow is a fresh start, something that everyone needs every once in a while… plus it’s also kind of fun to play with.

The Statue of Liberty is perhaps the most iconic monument in New York City.  It is the beacon that welcomes people from far and wide to the city that never sleeps and here I was, looking directly at it.  It was as if my future was laying before me in the form of high rise buildings, honking horns and the smell of halal food and opportunity.

Ever since I was a young girl, I have wanted nothing more than to live the rest of my life in this city.  In the beginning of my senior year, the time came around for me to make the big college decision and I could not even think about attending a school in any other place besides New York.  Finally, the dream was beginning to come true.

A few short months later and it was move in day at the New Yorker Hotel residence. My father drove myself, my sister and my mom from our little Long Island town, into the crazy hustle and bustle of the city.  Before the chaos of attempting to fit all of my things into a tiny dorm began, my family and I made a quick stop to look out across New York Harbor and look at the same statue that welcomed my immigrant grandparents to the city; the city that was now welcoming me.  It was a surreal moment for all of us, to think that I was about to start the defining moments of the rest of my life.  It was also terrifying, slightly, because I was going to be on my own for the first time in my life and I was going to have to do everything for myself.  I also had a new school, classes, and work to worry about on top of all of the other responsibilities. Yet, the statue somehow calmed me. Of course, everything was still unknown and I was about to have to do everything on my own, but the statue, the harbor and the city skyline somehow made me feel like everything was going to be okay.  It reminded me of the fact that my grandparents came here truly on their own, not even able to speak English, and they made it.  They were probably terrified too, but they saw the statue, and their future, ahead of them and they figured it all out.  The statue reminded me that if they could, then I could.

From there, we headed to the hotel to set up my room, and it was one of the best days of my life.  My parents and my sister headed back home, and I began the rest of my life.  Although scary, it was exciting and I felt like I could do anything I dreamed of, and that I could achieve anything I set my mind to.  I keep a photo of the statue by my bed, and it will always remind me of my grandparents and that I am in control; it promises me that I can anything that I want to.

  This painting definitely speaks out to me and represents something from my life. No, that does not mean that I have been jail to before. The way that I see it, this painting has another meaning to it. I believe it signifies that even during the darkest times of our lives, there is hope for the future. Dark times are really tough, especially the ones that come back to haunt you.

My darkest time occurred over the summer, in which I was fresh out of high school and getting ready for college. My dad and I got a call on a Monday afternoon. My great aunt informed us that my grandfather, whom I loved very much, passed away. The thing about it was that we knew it was going to happened because my grandfather was sick for a while. At that moment, however, I realized that I was never going to able to see him again. I saw him last year, during my vacation to the Dominican Republic, where my family is from. I was so excited to see him at that time, but as of now, I do not know how I am going to live life without him.

Ever since my grandfather passed, I have felt so bad for my mom because she did everything that she could to keep him alive. Additionally, my mom is sick herself. She has some weird disease that is called scleroderma. From what I know, it occurs when your skin hardens until it forces your organs to stop working. The worse thing about it is that it has no treatment whatsoever, and that is what haunts me. At this time, I feel afraid because I cannot afford to lose my mom, whether it is now or next year. My mom has done so much for me, such as being there when I got my high school diploma. I cannot imagine how life would be without her because she is one of the most powerful women that I have ever looked up to. On top of that, today is her fifty-first birthday, which is why I decided to write this post today. Even though this disease is so chronic, there is still hope that she will get to live for a long time. After all, that is something that she has always wanted, as well as seeing my generation and the one after grow.

In summary, this painting is very iconic, and it sends a clear message. Everybody has dark times in life, and it is very challenging to live through them. They can come back and give you nightmares, as well as distract you from what you are doing at the present moment. However, there is a light in the darkness, and we call this light hope. Hope will bring us out from those tough times, and it will bring us happiness. Unfortunately, I will lose both of my parents sometime in the future, but for now, I must keep a positive attitude and just hope for the best.