March 22

15.

By Genesis Juarez

As long as the memories keep flowing, the doors appearing are never ending. A long hallway full of dreams finally appears within them. 6408 days, since the last time I counted, worth of memories. I am in the middle of it all. So, I stop to look and gaze at the countless scribbles of color on the walls of my halls. Photographs hang in the hallway. Portraits of people and other small details to connect with memories. Frames flashing filing with pictures from my phone camera. Why so many? Why does my mind conjure more than it can handle? When I know that all I am is a speck of insignificant matter, floating in a galaxy, light years away. Yet, gravity pulls me in my sleep to force me to walk back to the foot of my memories, doors labeled. My 2nd and My 3rd and my 7th and My 9th birthdays. A door opening up to the first time I ever read a book, or the first time I met some of my earliest teachers, and everything leading up to now. Until I reached the door that was labeled, “15th Birthday!”.
I grabbed the door knob and turned it, the door flying open and pulling me in, allowing me to step into my memory.
It starts with me sitting on the floor of my bedroom, I sit and watch the clock turn 12:00 AM. I’m officially 15 and I’m too excited to go to sleep. Still I apprehensively crawl into bed and tuck myself into my sheets. Even if I know that I’ll fling them off, because why did I have to be born in August? The AC blasted on 64, so the cool chill fills my room and has me curling even more into the blanket. I’ll allow it, because I know I’ll thank myself in the morning for sleeping in the cold. So my eyes flutter shut and for the many times I’ve fallen asleep, I dream of nothing.
When I wake up it’s early. I can tell because of the coolness in my room, not just from the AC, but t. Those chilly dewey mornings we’re so used to. I sluggishly get out of bed and get ready, because I have a plan. Actually, we have a plan, my family and I. We need to get on over to Philadelphia to catch the bus that’ll take us to New York.
I check the weather and make sure the day’s nice and warm, which it always is in the summer. As my family and I pile into the car and drive to Philadelphia and as we stand outside where the buses are supposed to be. We realize we have to pay for parking. The most annoying thing about traveling, paying for stuff. So as we’re running across the city and trying to figure out where that big traveling bus managed to park, we take in the scenery. At least I do, the brisk air blowing as we walk down the streets of Philly. The sun is shining, nice and bright to illuminate our path to find the bus. Once we do, it’s like a saving grace, until we get on and realize it’s the wrong bus and we have to move onto another one. At least this one had air conditioning, I think I’d die being in a bus full of people and with nor AC. That’s a nightmare, to me at least.
The bus ride is long and I somehow manage to sleep during it, yet when I wake up, I see it. The tunnels leading into the city and how huge the skyscrapers are.
It had been years since I’d last come here to look around like a tourist. Now, I am older, not so much wiser, but definitely older. A womanly older. In my culture, turning 15 is the most significant moment of a young woman’s life, so that’s why this trip was taken so seriously. Instead of a huge lavish party, that many girls turning 15 prefer, I instead wanted a small trip with my family. (Even if I did end up having a Sweet 16 the next year, so I got the best of both worlds).
The trip was full of sightseeing and walking, lots of walking. The skyscrapers looked as if they could lean down and just eat me. The sky was so blue and the flowers were already blooming. Purple, delicate little flowers, one that I picked and kept in my backpack and still have to this day. The flowers probably dried and if I pick it up, it’ll break and disintegrate. I snapped pictures of everything and anything I could see. The weird looking building of hexagonal shapes, that made no sense architecturally, but nonetheless I snapped away.
We walked all across the city, We went from the heart of the city and found ourselves in Times Square. It looks so much better on New Year’s Eve with the huge ball drop and more anticlimactic in person. The bustling, brash, and bursting sounds from all the noise in the city. It falls faint on my ears as it turns into background noise. The honks from yellow taxis, shouts of pedestrians, and the screeching of cars coming to a halt. The hundreds of people in the streets, trying to scam any tourists in sight. My family and I included, but I was smarter than that and led us away from them. We took pictures and filmed until the storage in our phone ran out. It wasn’t the most special thing we could’ve seen, but the celebration made it even more special.
As we exhausted our feet we finally realized that we should get some lunch, just to kill time. Tacos for lunch, at least that’s what I can remember. The entrance to the restaurant was normal, yet we were led underground to sit and eat our food. It felt exclusive, special, and I thought it was because of my birthday. And the restaurant was right in Times Square, the heart of the city, how more adaptable could we get? Time seemed to fly by as we sat around and ate and chatted. The smell of scrumptious food that we devoured because of how hungry we were. Our bodies needed fuel to keep on trekking to the water to get on the boats to see Lady Liberty.
As we finished up our meal and managed to walk a couple blocks. I ended up calling it quits and begged to take a cab. It was my birthday after all, and we had already walked for so long. What would spending a couple bucks on a taxi cab hurt? We took the cab and crammed ourselves into it and made our way to the docks. We bought our tickets and waited for the boat to come to take us to Ellis Island.
The heat was starting to win in the fight with me. Time seemed to still as I was finally able to catch my breath after walking all morning. The red from my face, almost as if I were a tomato. The only thing I could hear was my breathing trying to normalize. I sat on a bench as I did so, yet the back of my thighs burned from the heat. The hot bench felt like it was burning into my skin. If I stood up I could just picture the burn marks on my legs. I started to feel like an idiot for wearing all black. The slight ache in my feet from all the walking, to the layers of sweat drenched behind my long hair. It all seemed to be so overwhelming. The heat, the sweat, and the blisters that were already forming on my feet. But, I was so glad I brought a hair tie, or two, and tied up the mane of hair that was practically sticking to my neck. I put on the little bucket hat we had bought while walking around the city, to shield me from the sun, as we sat and waited for the boat.
Once the boat arrived and we took our seats. That’s when the rocking began. I personally don’t have seasickness, but some of the people I was with, did. It was awful almost seeing them shake with fear and their faces greening from the rock of the boat. The subtle shake that boat got from the waves. I never understood seasickness, but I could feel the slow rock of the boat and if you looked overboard. You’d feel sick too. The terrifying height of the boat from the water and how dusky it was. If you fell in, what would be in the water to greet you?
I shook those thoughts from my mind as I felt the sudden stop of the boat. It approached the dock and everyone started to trickle out. As I stepped out the atmosphere shifted, the cool sea breeze of being on Ellis Island. I walked around with my family and we stumbled upon a small store. We all stopped and got ice cream and lemonade to cool off. The air helped, the way it brushed against me and made my hair flow in the wind. The sweetness of the lemonade and the slight tang from the physical lemons in the cup. Yet, the sweetness trumped it all, once I started to eat my chocolate ice cream cone. It felt like an ice cube on my tongue, cooling off the warmth of my insides.
My family and I walked around as we finished our lemonade and ice creams. Until we realized in all that relaxing, we had a boat to catch. We all made sure to race back before we’d be stranded on an island for the rest of the day. The sun shining down on us wouldn’t have been too good. As we managed to get back on the boat, the rocking sensation came back. It felt as if I were to take one wrong step, I’d fall off the boat entirely! The shaky ship sailed back to shore and we made it back in one piece.
Once we were back on land we took a taxi back to the center of town and continued to walk around. At this point my legs were basically killing me. We all made the trudge back to where the buses would meet us. The sun was setting and the skies began to darken on the walk back. We stopped at a little vendor’s cart and got water to quench our thirst. The cold water hitting my tongue was like finding a single drop in a dessert. I savored that water and finished the entire thing, before going back to get another. As we made it back to where the buses dropped us off, we found a little bench to rest on. I laid down and rested my head on someone’s lap, my shoes kicked off from all the walking I did, but I didn’t care.
As soon as we noticed the buses pull up, I sprinted with what little might I had to get to the good seats. Sitting down was such a relief, I can’t even remember the bus ride. I’m sure I fell asleep and then when I woke up, we were back in Philadelphia. The car ride back home was uneventful, until we stopped at Giant and rushed inside to get a cake before they closed.
Once we were finally home and settled in. We sat around the dining room table and unboxed the cake. It was my favorite and I couldn’t wait to sink my teeth into the first slice. We sang happy birthday in both English and Spanish and then I got to cut the cake. Huge slices distributed to everyone around the table. Once I took a bite, I was in heaven. The chocolatey sweetness of the cake. How soft it felt to bite into.
The perfect way to end the perfect dream of a day. Even if it wasn’t as lavish as a huge poofy dress and a room full of people celebrating, this day was the next best thing.
As I made my way upstairs, I made sure to take a shower. My hair was wet after taking a rejuvenating shower, and comfy pajamas to settle into bed with. Alongside the AC on being on full blast. Yet, I could still feel the ache in my feet as I crawled back into bed. I knew this would be a memory I would never forget. I drifted off to sleep and went back to the long hallway with doors that opened to my memories.
If only I could’ve cherished this birthday even more, if I had known what was to come. Never will I forget my 15th Birthday.

March 22

The 13th

The 13th

February 13, the date I stood outside letting the cold sharp air hit my skin as I waited in line.  I can hear upbeat music playing and the chatter of people.  Laughs surround me, side conversations, and the occasional drunk goers.  The smell of fried food and popcorn hit my nose as I passed security.  My mouth watered at the thought of food in my empty stomach – my nerves kept me from eating all day.

We walk around the entire Wells Fargo Center looking for sections to find our seats.  Once we found it, we entered, and my jaw flew to the ground.  The sound of cheers, the darkness compared to outside, and the number of people in one place.  That sonder feeling hit me over and over again.  Was this happening?  Was I in the same room as THE Billie Eilish?  

After waiting for what felt like a century, the lights turned off.  The suspense of it all made me jump with excitement.  Gleaming white strobe lights flash before the room goes dark again.  The first song starts to play, making the entire stadium shake.  Billie Eilish appears and the entire night goes by in a blur as I enter another dimension filled with laughter, tears, rage, and thousands of blurry videos.

  Never in my life would I have thought hearing someone sing would make me cry.  It wasn’t like it was my first time listening to this song but her angelic voice wraps me like a hug that I desperately needed.  “Halley’s Comet”, the song that brought warm tears down my face and so much comfort.  If only she knew how much it meant to me.  

Walking out, I didn’t care how cold it was.  I didn’t care that my feet were sore from standing in shoes that were not broken in.  I didn’t care that my voice was raspy.  Or, the fact that I had school the next day.  I did care that I was able to check off  “Go To Concert” on my life bucket list.  I did care that a core memory was made on a single date that I would look back to, time and time again.  February 13th was the date I went to my first concert and on the same day, I lost my voice from screaming too long.  

March 22

The Year Of Covid

Covid the year of…. 

Driving Dad’s lawn mower around the backyard until it ran out of gas

Riding bikes from sunrise to sunset with my best friends 

Laying in the middle of the night watching the stars

Back when we went to the creek to swim with our meals packed in our backpacks 

Manhunt at 11 on a Monday night 

No stressors or responsibilities except trying to not log out of class early

Playing dress up at the age of 13 because there was nothing better to do

Rib sticking down the biggest hill in the neighborhood with bruises all over our legs and arms

The Neighborhood friend group that got close because we only had each other 

Screaming music on the trampoline and talking about the world ending

All different age gaps but just as immature as everyone else

Movies on the projector in the backyard on a starry night 

Matching your mask to your outfit when we finally got back into school

Sanitizing groceries after going to the grocery store in the driveway

Old people having to wear masks in their own cars

Learning tik tok dances from Charlie Dmelo hours on end

Sleeping in till 11 

Careless eating without gaining any weight

Shorts and T-shirts everywhere we go 

Online shopping for clothes

Sneaking out to the hay fields to take pictures

Sleepover streaks and pulling all-nighters nights on end

Buying a Jeep just to drive around 

Hikes with family for miles down a back road

Watching church on the tv

Streaks on Snapchat being the connection with school friends

Drive by birthdays with posters handing out the windows 

Beaten up bikes as only transportation 

Logging off Zoom class early to go outside

Special days doing school with friends

Outdoor dinners with grandparents on the back porch with masks 

March 22

Where Do We Go Now?

On a bright and exciting day in 2023 –the very day in fact, I saw my favorite artist in concert. 

Ella arrives at my house. We get ready together then head to Philadelphia for the concert. There was traffic getting into the city but we still made it in time. We wait in line eating pizza, killing time as we wait to get inside the theater. The line finally starts moving and we finally make it in. We run trying to get as close as possible to the front of the stage. We took pictures and talked while waiting for her to come on stage. Finally – there she was. Gracie Abrams. My favorite artist. 

I never thought she was actually real. She started singing and we were screaming, singing, dancing, and clapping. We sang so loud and danced so much ,we lost our voices the next day and could barely get out of bed. Being there knowing that I’ve been able to relate to Gracie Abrams ever since she released her first song made it feel like even more of a staggering experience. Her music, her voice, and her lyrics are very special to me and I was so happy I got to experience it all in person with one of the only people I look up to and have been through everything with – Ella. At that moment, I felt so safe. 

Then she walked off the stage and we walked out of the venue, so slow. We made an excuse to wait in line for merch even though we knew they were sold out, trying to stay in that room as long as possible. We eventually got outside. We just stood there. In the middle of the street. Staring at the sign that says “Gracie Abrams”, hoping I will never lose the sense of calmness and joy she brings me. Not wanting to leave, I asked “Where do we go now?”

March 22

Under the Porch

My life is like

Flowers

To represent memories

Emotions

Life, death, envy, 

Forgiveness

 

Daffodils in the garden

Hardy, punctual, and graceful.

 

Forget-me-nots running along the creek beds in summer, 

Whirling, curling, like the smoke of a cigarette

 

Lilies in the pond

Dandelions in the long vein like cracks, forcing open the asphalt

Lilacs in the road

 

Tulips under the porch,

Under the porch is

Bruised knees, 

Its moss,

It’s the mud

 

Its life, its death

It’s a hawk, it’s a dove

It’s the promise of spring

 

Flowers wrapped up in twine

Under the porch.

Its cigarette butts

Its a beer can

It’s the steps in the hall

 

It’s a muddy, mess of flowers,

Wrapped up in twine,

Forgotten Under the porch. 

March 22

Unbeatable

If there are alley’s inside me there must also be hallways, I take a walk inside. I see all the things I dread, all the embarrassing moments, but I also see my favorite memories. I walk down reminiscing on my past as a glimpse of light starts to beam through the door at the end of the hallway. As I get closer it almost seems blinding, I start to run for the door, it is overpowering me with what is at the end and is filling me with joy, happiness, and anxiety about what’s on the other side. As I start to get into a full-on sprint I flash past tons and tons of memories of my vacations, my sports games, school events, you name it. However, I don’t stop to look because I know whatever it is on the other side of that door is something much bigger. I got excited and now the hallway just seems to get longer. My nerves bouncing off the walls, I proceed to leap and skip and jump as I am not far from the door. Pushing the cold metal of the door I step out and standing right before my eyes is my family. The family that I love with everything and the family that loves me. 

 

Family. It is such a comforting word. The word that can bring me back to hundreds of memories, but one in particular stands out. Christmas Eve. 

 

This day, the memories that I have created, the people I am with. Walking into my Grandmother’s house with warm air surrounding the entire room from the oven. The laughter and conversations with our nice clothes on from church. The smell of the seven fishes laying out on the table made me clench my stomach after fasting all day just for this meal. The sound of presents crinkling as the wrapping gets thrown to the ground. 

 

Nothing can beat the happiness the twelve of us hold when we are together on this day. Nothing can break the memory of this very special night. Nothing can erase this amazing day out of my mind. I look back to all the years of the same traditions that we repeat over and over again. The loud stomps of us dancing around my grandmother’s living room to the most irritating but most amazing Christmas song. Dominic the Donkey. No care in the world that it is 1:00 in the morning. The drive home is never quiet. The excitement that there are going to be presents when we wake up the next morning. Most people say that Christmas is their favorite holiday. Not me, Christmas Eve will always be my favorite and a memory I will cherish forever.

January 30

The human condition

I picked the focus Human connection because I do find it a very interesting subject to research and I know I can write about. I am studying it because it is such an important thing to understand especially if you are human, Id think you’d want to understand and know how people interact with each other as well as how they move throughout one’s own life

January 23

Independent Study + Portfolio – The Land is Inhospitable and So Are We

This cover image released by Dead Oceans shows “The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We” by Mitski. (Dead Oceans via AP)

I chose this album because of a particular song on the album called “The Deal” which I talk about in my slides. I’m interested in Mitski’s use of metaphors/similes and way of creating imagery so I hope to learn how to write impactful songs like her. I also wonder where her songs are inspired from and if they come from her real-life experiences.

January 17

The Mouse and The Motorcycle

I chose this book for my project because back in 5th grade I was told to read a book for a project and I picked the one in the front on a basket that holds the books. It smelt old and had a wrinkly paper feel on every page.  5th grade me liked the feel of the paper, so I think that’s why I read the whole book and never forgot about it.

 

https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1BUSd4ZratofZoYIa2msdyI3QaRxCm0Zg3b5lWDP_uM4/edit?usp=sharing