Senior Chapel Talks

During morning meetings throughout the year, each senior will talk about his or her experience at VVS.  Several of these talks are published on this site. To read one, just click on links on the left. Speeches for the Class of 2010 are also available.

 

Senior Chapel Talks for the Class of 2011

Mary Joy Sun | Gema Fidalgo Gutierrez | Precious Chima | Sammie Emmerson | Lainie Benedict | Jasmine Varela | Daisy Chen | For more, click here.

 

MaryJoy Sun ' 11           

Once my friend asked me: " Do you know why the earth turns?" I shook my head. She laughed: " it turns so that I would not get stuck in a bad-luckspot forever."

Actually, she was right. Nobody wants to have anything to do with bad luck. That's probably the reason why we only wish each other good luck. Have you ever heard anybody wish another person bad luck?            

Despite the fact that we try so hard to avoid bad luck, it is still inevitable. Here are some examples of bad luck that I have already experienced.

To become a human being, in the first place, is definitely bad luck. Our ancestors created this thing called society and made up repressing tools called laws. Sadly, we were born to be oppressed and restricted, loaded up with responsibilities, too. However, I used to debate whether it is better to be a human or to be a bug. Being a little bug means to be hated by majority of females, especially beautiful teenage girls. Compared to being screamed at and getting squashed all the time, I would rather just be a human, follow a few rules and lead a relatively secure life. Humans are the only animals that have the concept of future. Although thinking about tomorrow and planning ahead might make us panic or overwhelmed, I still regard this thinking ahead ability as a gift. I would rather worry about whether the world will end in 2012 or getting tangled in TOK class, than having to search for food, starving and running for life all the time. Therefore, in a sense it's better to be a human being. I feel my existence more valuable and significant. Well, maybe it's not such bad luck after all.

There are certain things we can do nothing about; one of them is a wall falling on you. May 12th, 2008 is a day I will never forget. When that huge 8.0 earthquake hit my hometown, I experienced the frailty of human lives. I was lucky enough to survive and later on volunteered in the hospital where my parents were both working. No wards or surgery rooms were available, because the buildings might collapse any second during the aftershocks. People died in the tent outside under the burning sun every single day. Our whole town did not have water, electricity or cell phone signals for 3 days. As time went by, the town started to stink, that was because countless dead people could not be identified or buried right away. I carried patients on the stretchers, occasionally gasped under my breathing mask, looked at the gray dusty sky and helplessly waited for the next wave of aftershocks. Nevertheless, it was also during those dark moments that I felt the power of united wills. The survived restaurants had people cook in half-collapsed kitchens and deliver food to the hospital every day. People from all over China and around the world came to support us. There was even a French medical team helping out. All of a sudden I felt so close to other individuals and so close to the vivid energy of life. I learnt to be calm and brave during difficult situations. I also learnt to be loving and helpful for others, because we are all humans, we have the same color of blood, and we are never alone. I always believed this bad luck brought me strong will power and faith in life.

Last but not least, the IB we are all facing or going to face is another example of bad luck. I hope everybody agrees with me. Juniors, don't giggle yet, this is just the first month. Wait till you reach the point when you hold a piece of cake in one hand, and a coke in the other, trying to load yourself up with sugar and caffeine at 3am, and then realizing there is going to be a biology test and history book review due tomorrow. Then you know what I'm talking about. Anyways, I personally think this is still a valuable experience, because we are challenged both physically and academically by the competitive sports and IB program. We acquire so much knowledge and learn how to arrange time wisely. We gain confidence while we become more mature. We are going to be the master of our lives at age 16 or 17 rather than 35. It is good to be prepared and ahead of our contemporaries. You will feel it after you go to college.

The inevitable bad luck in our lives is not there to fail us. It is there to make us better, because the things that don't beat us make us stronger, just like my cycling coach said.

Some people are born smart, just like some are born beautiful, but nobody is perfect. That's why we all get bad luck, so we can make mistakes, and learn from them. Bad luck is a actually a treasure of life.

So, please do me a huge favor now. Put your right hand up in the air, point to the person next to you, smile, and say: " wish you bad luck today".

 

Gema Fidalgo Gutierrez

Red rocks, red rocks, red rocks, that’s all I could see from the back of the car. My dad and my sister, Laura were in the front of the car, while I was in the back all curled up like a snail. My heart started racing, when I first saw the sign right before a dirt road that indicated clearly Verde Valley School. I was here; I said to myself, there is no way back. Sad? Happy? I didn’t really know what my feelings were, I just wanted to scream and run!

Gemita!!!! Ya estamos aqui!!!!! Te gusta!!?? My sister said, meaning “Gema we are here! Do you like it?”  My dad looked at me, I didn’t really know what I was supposed to answer so I said, “Es un poco sucio no?”, meaning, “isn’t it a little bit dirty?”

A few minutes later two girls named Hannah and Katie Morrow got into the car! Obviously they started looking at me, attempting to start a legitimate conversation. To me, it seemed like they really didn’t get the overall message that I was unable to comprehend what ever they were saying. Every word they altered sounded more like “BLA BLA BLA.”  It went into one of my ears and straight out the other in a split second. After that, I realized that this was going to be an intense experience that would live in infamy. The world that I lived in had rotated about 540 degrees because it was like living in a completely different environment. Just the thought of changing from a comfortable and protective home into a new strange place, and on top of that, with my awful skills at English, I was very incapable of formulating any sentences. I find this extremely hilarious now, but when I was in integrated science, the word “quiz” to me, sounded like a game and indeed, the first time that I had a “quiz” I thought it was a game! Adapting to the environment was not necessarily the easiest thing but by the time I was a junior, things had changed drastically. During my freshmen year, my only hope was the fact that I was going to learn. And that is all I have been doing every since then, learning.

One of the most insightful learning experiences that I ever had while here was during TOK class in my junior year. I started developing more understanding about my opinions, which I hadn’t really known how to begin. Formulating questions related to religion, ethics and the idea that we humans have left our planet really distraught, had the most significant impact on my beliefs. The combination of the knowledge and the skepticism I obtained from classes gave me an eye opener about the nature of human behavior.

As humans, we seek to control our environment, because we are evidently on top of the food chain and it is critical for us to consolidate power. We fear when things don’t go the way we planned. We have fear when we do not know what is going to happen. That is the reason we seek to control our environment as much as possible. We tend to control in diverse ways in order to obtain the most beneficial effects.

Our world is becoming more and more modernized each day, which affects the amount of natural resources we use. Capitalism is the system under which we all live right now, set up in such a way that higher powers are able to control our lives. Food, health, education all require money. Therefore money is the key to most things in life in our modern day society -  people can’t do whatever they want if they don’t have any money.  Under capitalism, a minority of people are in control of the money and resources of the planet. What does this say about our free will? We like to think we live in a free country, but in reality, we do not. We live in a world full of control. Free will is nothing but an imaginary product that is sold into the minds of the majority of human beings.  Through capitalism, humans have given themselves the right to manipulate the earth.

We control our food resources by growing them. But since the population has grown exponentially, food processes have changed to the extent that we are mistreating animals, just for our own needs. We humans put animals in cages and supply them with food that is not even part of their diet, to obtain easier, faster and cheaper food.  We always want more for ourselves, and we adopt a careless attitude towards the needs of the rest of world and its living organisms. Animals have the same right to live their lives as we do, even though humans had created the illusion of humankind being the central and the essential species of this world.

Now, I invite all you of to reflect on yourselves. To think, how much freedom is in the world? How much are we able to control in our daily life? And, What can you do about it? I would say that is not a big percentage. And if you are in the IB even less! BUT, the only thing you are absolutely in control of is your mind. Your ideas and thoughts are only in your brain, and you are the only one to control them. Start today. In your classes observe and learn around you, and create YOUR OWN thoughts.

I have to say thank you, to all my teachers, parents and friends. Those who gave me not only knowledge, but the motivation and the trust to think for myself. I realize I’m not that little girl curled up like a snail in the back of the car any more. This community has gave me the opportunity to express and to learn who I am as I person today. Thanks to all the VVS COMMUNITY and do understand that I truly appreciate all the efforts and contributions that you have given me.
 

Precious Chima

It’s funny when a few friends of mine around here joke and make fun of the village. Vince being one of my very good friends, since sophomore year, always found it incredibly pleasurable to relate everything I said to either “the bush” or “the village”.  Well, I mean I find those jokes hilarious but every now and then I reflect back on my past life, which actually began in the village. Born and raised in the villages of Nigeria, I belonged to a tribe of about 300 people where living was substantially different. Having a 19 year old mother meant that I had to go to the farm everyday with my grandmother while my parents attended school. Some of you might find it strange that my mother was only 19 when I was born but, actually, I have an older brother who is 2 years older than I am. I remember waking up everyday at around 5 in the morning, eating and getting ready to go to the farm.

Living in a household of more than 15 people meant that those who didn’t work in the farm didn’t eat. And even as a toddler, the villagers found it compulsory that I attended the farm because, that way I learned quicker and eventually became independent. In Nigerian culture, it is very crucial that you have a boy in the family. Believe it or not, this can result in a big family feud and did in my case. My grandmother had 10 kids and, surprisingly, they were all girls. After many years, it seemed like there was no hope for a boy so that meant her husband had to marry another wife. My step-grandmother had about 7 kids and was hated by all our family members to the point that even till this very day, my heart won’t let me cry even about the loss of my step-grandmothers children, or their children. I know it is sad to imagine in a western society but, it is actually quite common in Nigeria. I started speaking two tribal languages at a young age, one being my tribes and the other being a language of another tribe. This was due to the fact that, a few years before I was born there was a war between most tribes. There are approximately 60 tribes and languages in Nigeria but knowing about 3 around your region was crucial because it increased the chances of your survival. This was mainly because, during the war, a random person could speak to you in a different language and if you were unable to comprehend what they were saying, it would be clear that you didn’t belong to their tribe. This meant that they would have to kill you. Oil was found at my grandfather’s place, and for awhile, we had a decent income but when my grandfather passed away, the villagers had absolutely no control over it. Most of my uncles didn’t go to school because their grandfather was rich but when he died; they started to see the dark side of life.

My father being the 14th kid out of 14 in his family he never saw his father because his father passed away while his mother was pregnant. He worked very hard to educate himself. From being a house boy to petroleum engineer now, my dad has seen almost every aspect of life. He is still one of my motivations for hope because, the things he has been through before I was born and even after still fascinates me. I remember our family being robbed when my father bought his first car in a small flat that we lived in. By this time, my parents had decided that I begin learning English in order to maximize my potential for success. Today, I’m just really grateful for having the opportunity to speak English and also study abroad. Education as we know is extremely powerful and crucial especially in the 21st century where job opportunities are slim and competition is high. Today, October 1st is Nigeria’s Independence Day but most people are probably suffering instead of celebrating.

When I was 10 years old, my dad got a job offer to work in Saudi Arabia. When I heard about it, I was stunned because I didn’t even know that country existed. When I went there, I had to fit in with the foreign kids because; my childhood was very different than theirs. Its funny, but it was the first time I remember seeing a white person, and also the first time I got pair of sneakers. I continued my late childhood in Saudi, with my English studies and while I was there, I started to appreciate western music. As some of you might know, I have a passion for song writing and sometimes, I just think and think of ‘what if I didn’t have the opportunity to learn English or even leave the village?’, I mean it’s clear that my life’s story would have had a different outcome. I am almost 18 now and have not stepped my foot on the motherland since I left in 2003. It is kind of sad and it will be very interesting when I return during Christmas break to visit for the first time in 7 years.

Finally, I came to VVS in my sophomore year. VVS has taught me many things in the past 3 years, including academically and socially. Being able to socialize with teachers at a different level and have a close relationship with them. Over 3 years I have improved exponentially on my lyrical compositions in music just because of the knowledge that I acquire here on a daily basis at VVS. Competition is tough these days, everywhere including the music industry but personally, I believe that there is time for everything. It might take 1, 2, or even more than 10 years, as long as you set your mind to it, you will achieve it someday. My father used to tell me “As long as you’re determined, you can grab at the stars, could even be the first man to inhabit Mars”. I mean that sounds a little bit over the top but, metaphorically, he wanted to say that impossible is nothing. I think everyone of you should make your dreams into reality. That’s the reason I dream big and will keep dreaming big. As William Clement Stone once said, “Aim for the moon, and if you miss, you may hit a star”.

Sammie Emerson
 

Today, I am going to share with you a Christmas story that is very close to me. You may have heard it before, and some of you may even know it by heart. It is called “A Child’s Christmas in Wales”.
“One Christmas was so much like another, in those years around the sea-town corner now and out of all sound except the distant speaking of the voices I sometimes hear a moment before sleep, that I can never remember whether it snowed for six days and six nights when I was twelve or whether it snowed for twelve days and twelve nights when I was six…”

I’m just kidding. But I do have a Christmas story. It was unseasonably warm. It never, ever snows in Phoenix after all, unless it’s hail and the middle of summer. We’d had my dog Randi for almost seven years, and she’d seen better days. She had been very sick and had just gotten out of the doggy hospital with my vet uncle upon my return for Christmas break and I was happy to see her. She even stood up and took a few steps to greet me.
She was recovering. She ate and was regaining her ability to stand up on her own, although she was still pretty weak. When we got her, she had been one strong dog. She was like a box made out of muscles. She never left my side for a month after we got her, even to go outside. I was honored to know she was that loyal to me at first sight, and we grew close over those seven years. They could even be called seven years of good luck, perhaps that I had built up after kissing that sea cucumber in eighth grade. But the years had caught up with her, even though she wasn’t aware of the change, and she slowed down a little bit and slowed down a little bit more.

The next few days were spent sitting with her outside and inside as she regained her strength. I was absolutely certain she would be fine; all the odds were for it. I cleaned up her accidents and made sure she had water on hand as she suddenly couldn’t get up any more.
And then she just stopped. It was the twenty-third. She closed her eyes to take a nap on the cool tile warmed by the ventilation and the Christmas spirit, and the high hopes of her recovery. And then she never ever opened them again.
I sorely wished I’d spent more time with her. We found out later it was cancer. I knew then I would have to spend as much time as I could with my other two dogs, Jake and Eve. Jake was the same age as Randi, but we’d had him since I was five. The two had grown old together. Jake’s arthritis kept him from being active, but he searched the house for three whole days for his mate.

Christmas passed with news of my mother’s boss’ dog dying of flipped intestines, a very rare injury that is related to a flipped stomach. I grimaced at the description, as it was a very painful way to go and the dog had been a very good one from what I’d heard. Too many dogs dying, I said.

I went back to school for a while. In my dreams I would travel back in time and my memories would get mixed up. I felt so bad about my friend’s death that I’d have dreams where she’d never died at all. My memories drifted to an old hospital setting, but a new, whitewashed building with colorful shapes decorating the walls. Jump back just over seven years.
The doctors had to prove to me that they were smiling behind their surgical masks with a picture book. I think it was considerate of them to leave out the people with creepy smiles. Or maybe I just couldn’t tell when I was ten. I was a pretty bad judge of character then.

They offered to wheel me into the surgery room fast or slow. I wanted to feel the cool, sterile wind in my hair once before I went under so I said, “fast!” while my mother cried, “slow!” I’m actually glad I went fast. I had time to enjoy the speed, but not to think about what was going to happen.

I have little recollection of going under. It was like being forced to fall asleep by something cool in my veins. I could tell it wasn’t blood, but it made falling asleep enjoyable. Apparently then, I was technically dead- I had to be put on life support until they could bring me out of it, because they had to cut me open all the way into my heart. It was a gentle blackness until I had to start breathing again. I noticed waking up was always harder than going to sleep.

Jump forward seven and a half years. I was on my way to Malawi. I’d had a premonition that Jake would need me this summer and I had tried to spend as much time with him as I could, even though I was never home. Eve was still young and I didn’t have to worry about her so much, though I missed her sorely.

Upon my return, I was relieved to find Jake as chipper as ever. I hung out with him for a while, and he liked his routine. He was really a very happy dog, he never ever complained. He was a big baby, but he would suffer in silence and comfort himself by jumping on my face if I happened to be lying on the couch.

One day it was rainy, but not too stormy. Jake went outside to enjoy the rain a bit and got horribly wet. He was part chow chow and had a huge mane of thick fur all over his back and shoulders. Dad let him inside and left for work. Then later that night, Jake’s stomach tumor blocked off his circulation and Mom and I had to heft him into the car trunk and get him to the hospital. I waited in the whitewashed walls again, this time in the lobby. The doctor gave us a very serious look and told us Jake’s stomach had flipped and twisted around and there was nothing they could do. He had been in a lot of pain, though of course Jake had never let it really show. They let us see him one last time. I made sure to hold on as long as I could.

The doctors decided to put him down quickly. As Mom and I drove off empty-handed I leaned back in the car seat and traced my own old steps with Jake. He would be wheeled into a bright room, the cold, sterile air drying his still-damp fur. He would be fitted with an IV and cold would rush in, but it wouldn’t be unpleasant. He’d maybe feel dizzy for a moment before letting his eyes close. He would take a nap in the warm summer, cooled by the air conditioning and our love for him. And then, unlike me but just as our old friend, he would never open his eyes again.

One thing about Jake and Randi was that they knew how to live, even at retirement age. They chased rabbits even though their legs didn’t want to carry them. They barked at cars they struggled to hear for the heck of it. And they always, always sat near me when I was down and let me scratch their ears.

Jump ahead two months and I’m unpacking for school. One thing about this school is that it’s let me live, even if it’s been hard to survive. I can go and work in places like Germany and Malawi, even though my legs don’t want to carry me. I can take IB tests I’m struggling to learn the answers to. And I can always, always listen to my friends when they’re down and let them talk to someone.

I will always regret letting an opportunity pass, and I will always have something to say about when I did have an adventure. I’ve found this to be a constant among people. It’s rarely a bad idea to take a chance and really have an experience, because the chance will only be there for so long before it’s just gone. And it will never be back. I’m lucky to be given a second chance at life to learn this lesson when others were not, and hopefully it won’t take you open heart surgery and two friends who already know this to wake up and realize that there are roses on the side of the road of life to be smelled. And if you do stop to notice them sometime, they smell pretty good. Like roses.

Lainie Benedict '10

Gratitude
Think of 10 things that you’re grateful for right now. I’ll wait.

One of the simplest, yet most profound lessons I’ve learned lately is the importance of practicing gratitude. It is a cure for anger, fear, or other unpleasant feelings we afflict ourselves with. Next time you have a bio quiz you haven’t studied for, be grateful for the chance to learn biology at all. If you find yourself really frustrated with someone, be grateful for the opportunity to practice being patient. If you’re up at 4 am writing a math IA be thankful for the next time you’ll sleep. Be thankful for the sunshine, for the opportunities to learn, for the roof over your head, your bed to sleep in. The more you fill your head with thankfulness, the less space there is for negativity and unhelpful emotions. You have the power to free your mind of anger, resentment, and negativity. As someone who I admire says, simply ask yourself to be free of the stories you tell yourself; the stories about others being unjustified in their behavior, about the way you think you are, about the importance of dressing well, about what people think about you, about what you think can’t do, about what you’ll be when you grow up. None of it is as absolute as it feels.

This practice is a way to look into the face of an atrocious day, and look for the good things. I have a challenge for you. Play, something I like to call, the Happy Game. It goes like this: instead of complaining with your friends about the long days you have, about how people are frustrating, about your aches and your pains, that you take turns naming something you’re glad for. Just begin: it doesn’t have to be something profound or inspiring, you just have to start. In fact, I think it’s important to start with simple things because they’re the most appreciable and the most taken for granted. You may ask: whom are you being grateful to?

In my opinion, you don’t have to believe in the Almighty, Allah, Scientology, or even Sedona’s Vortexes. You don’t have to have a shrine to Buddha, or have a deep connection to nature. For me, practicing thankfulness is just a way to cultivate a more positive outlook.
Gratitude was hard for me to come by, as I’m sure it was or will be for you.

By joining the Millennium Development Goals group, I’ve learned of pressing issues, like AIDS and globalization. I especially learned a lot in my trips to Malawi. The most profound element of global issues I was exposed to was the imminence of a need for healthcare. When I saw the health clinic overflowing with sick children and expectant mothers, I felt it was my obligation to help them. The only person working the clinic was one Registered Nurse, who was clearly overburdened. I couldn’t imagine the responsibility she must feel. The worst part is that this was the only clinic available for miles! I was so shocked to learn that many people are unable to get basic healthcare, like antibiotics, when in America people can have surgery to accommodate their vanity, such as liposuction or rhinoplasty.

The dichotomy between the environment of American culture and Malawian culture is so vast that I had no choice but to examine my own culture. For example, I can sit in a coffee shop writing this speech use the bathroom, wash my hands with “Luxury Foaming Hand Soap”, and dry my hands with “eco-friendly” paper towels, when villagers in Malawi don’t even have water that is potable. I feel grateful to have grown up in such a comfortable lifestyle, but at the same time I feel guilty for having so much more than the villagers I met.

As you might know, gratitude is more than simply being thankful; it is also the willingness to express such appreciation. Being thankful for someone or something is absolutely necessary to communicate because if you don’t, your enjoyment is only beneficial to you. Gratitude is only worthwhile if it is felt and then passed on. For example, that I feel privileged allows me to take my opportunities and thankfulness and pay it forward.

Jasmine Varela '10

I lived with my parents only until the age of 9, and since I was 9, I’ve lived with my grandmother.  Prior to moving in with my grandmother, there was a great deal of misfortune in my life.  Unfortunately it involved seeing my parents’ abuse drugs and alcohol.  Ever since I could remember, I had been accustomed to watching them drink until they could no longer keep their balance, or even hold simple conversations. At that age, I had assumed that it was a normal way of growing up.All parents drank.All children went through the same things that I had gone through with my brother.  I had even thought that jail was a place that all adults experienced at some point in their lives, even though it was perceived as a bad place. 

On July 3, 2003 my life changed, for the better. Because of all the physical and verbal fights, the child endangerment, and the drug abuse that I had experienced and watched, my brother and I were taken away from our parents by child protective services (CPS).   Because neither my father, nor my mother was in contact with any relatives, my brother and I lived with a family friend while our parents served their jail sentences.  After a week, our family friend could no longer care for my brother and me because he had his own family to support. If nobody had offered to care for us, my brother and I would have been put into the foster care system.  Miraculously, our grandmother, from our mother’s side, retired in order to care of us.   We had visited her a few times, but were never close with her.  Somehow, moving in with her seemed right.

Before moving in, my father was given permission to help us move our stuff into our new home.  I remember getting out of the old, beaten up, black Oldsmobile, and carrying a black trash bag filled with clothes and shoes, the only items that were ours. That was the last day I saw my dad for awhile.  When walking into the house, it had the freshly cleaned, laundry soap smell.  We had first walked into the kitchen that was adjoined by a laundry room. As we walked down the hallway and past my grandma’s room and a spare bedroom with junk in it, we came to our room with a few dressers in it as well as a full sized bed.  To my brother and I, that was everything we needed.  It was more than we ever had.  Everyday, my brother and I rotated our sleeping arrangements.  One day I would sleep in the bed, and the next day he would.  We were completely content with our arrangement. 

She was not the typical sweet, cake-baking grandmother who sugar-coated everything.  She was tough, and very outspoken, and was very straight-forward.  Before, with my parents, I did not have to go to school everyday if I was not up for it.  Things were completely different with my grandma.  School was mandatory everyday.  Because of her strong encouragement, I was able to be accepted into a program called A Better Chance, in middle school.  This program is a nationwide program that essentially helps students of the lower class get into private schools around the country. 

At VVS, I have changed from the person that I was when I first came until now.  Four years ago, I was unaware of my surroundings, and the world that I lived in.  Attending an international boarding school has helped me become aware of other cultures.  At this school, I’ve had many opportunities to interact not only with the international students that attend, but to also travel to other countries like Mexico, Malawi, and El Salvador, and fully immerse myself into these cultures, and become more appreciative of them.

I would say that I would have never had the chance to experience these opportunities without the support of my grandma.  Throughout the years, from when I first moved in, up until this point, our relationship has grown.  We would constantly fight about unimportant things.  Now we rarely argue, and I’ve come to understand most of the reasons behind her rules, and appreciate everything she does.  Without her, I wouldn’t have been able to have had such experiences, and the opportunity to broaden my view on life, and the world. 

Daisy Chen '10

When I was 16, probably older than some of you, I was the top student in my junior high. Everybody loved me. Believe it or not, I didn’t even know how babies came to this world. I thought if a boy kissed a girl she would get pregnant and the baby would jump out of the belly button. I’m serious. I was so innocent back then.

My family moved so I transferred to a public school. I got to know a lot other kids called “hooligans”. I thought they were cool and I should live that way. Probably because junior high classes were so easy, especially in a public school, I was still the top student but not really. I started to lie to my parents, so I could hang out with my bad friends until very late; I made up excuses to ask for money; I skipped classes as much as possible; I lied to teachers to leave early, I dyed my hair, I brought cell phone to school, I started to have a boyfriend who was a hooligan as well, those were banned at Chinese junior high schools. Teachers hated me. My parents got countless calls from school about my discipline problems. They were tired of my excuses and argued with me all the time. Life was going downhill.

Because of my voice and good grades, I got accepted to one of the best high schools in Shanghai, which meant that I could slack while others worked so hard for high school entrance exam. I wasted my entire year hanging out with my hooligan friends. I thought this was the happiest time in my life, I didn’t need to worry about classes, high schools, tests, anything. The only annoying thing was my parents. I HATED them.

In the beginning of my high school, I still lived as a lost kid. But soon I found out this couldn’t work anymore. Everybody in my class was number one and they worked so hard to pass the entrance exam, but I didn’t. I thought I was smart but they seemed smarter. I couldn’t get good grades like I did before. Arguments continued between me and my parents. My mom once was so mad she didn’t even talk to me for an entire month. She got nervous breakdown, and had to take pills to fall asleep. My dad didn’t want to talk to me. Both of my parents are medical PhDs and their daughter was a trouble, I can imagine how disappointed they could have been. My rotten life went on in silence.

I ended my 10th grade by totally screwing up my finals. Teachers suggested me to redo the school year. I didn’t care what they said, I wanted to leave home. So I went to a summer camp in Canada. 

When I was in Vancouver, I was walking on the beautiful road and the sky was so blue. I felt like I was a normal girl again. Nobody knew my story. The only thing they knew was a girl with good voice, she could sing well and dance well, she was happy and bright. They didn’t know at the same time my parents got a call from school said I didn’t pass any class in the final, and that day was my mom’s birthday, I forgot about it all.

Life abroad was so much better. After I went back, I asked if I could study in US. I didn’t even care about which high school in which city. I wanted to escape. Escape to another country so I didn’t need to see my parents for a long time, escape to a place where they couldn’t bug me anymore.

I ended up here because of the rolling admission of VVS.  The day I left the airport I ate a bowl of my favorite wonton. I left without tears, without turning back to look at my parents one more time, I left even without feeling sad. However, my conscience came back to me after I got on the airplane. I called my friend and asked about my mom. My mom didn’t cry, she continued to be silent. I hang up the phone thinking I really broke her heart, but I didn’t feel sad.

 

Comparing to Shanghai, Sedona is a place out of my expectations. There’s no shopping malls, karaoke’s, restaurants, movie theatres right next to school. There are only some tiny buildings with red roofs and that’s it. I didn’t even read the view book VVS sent me, so it really surprised me when I arrived.

Life here is easy and simple: school, dorm, and maybe some weekend trips. I suddenly realize life without my parents is not like what I imagined. I learn to take care of myself well when I’m sick. I realize sleeping is much more important than all night computer games. Friends I make here are different from the “cool” people I knew before, they really care about me, they don’t drink or smoke, they work hard for their classes and dreams. Gradually, I become one of them. I miss my parents, miss the days I hold my mom’s hand to go shopping together, the days my mom called me “baby piggy”, the days my dad and I ate in my favorite sushi place, he hated raw fish, but he said he feels satisfied just by looking at me even though he often came home with empty stomach. I realize how deeply I hurt them when I escaped. I put my life back together piece by piece, slowly.

I don’t know who I should be thankful to, maybe all my friends here in VVS, maybe my parents, maybe the old immature Daisy. She escaped from home because she hated everything around her, but this escape gave me a chance to grow up. I once was so lost in life, and hurt the people really loved me. I’m thankful to fate, for letting me have my amazing parents, they are supportive, and understanding, even when I broke their hearts. I’m thankful for so many real friends in a foreign country, without you guys, I don’t know how can I get over all the pains and frustration to become the Daisy standing here. Thank you for staying with me when I needed you the most, thank you for cooking me so much good food, and taking care of me when I was sick. I love you guys. Finally, thank you God for giving me a good voice that saved me every time when I was lost in life. There is a song that I want to sing for myself. 

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me. 
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now I see.

Was Grace that taught my heart to fear.
And Grace, my fears relieved.
How precious did that Grace appear?
The hour I first believed