I was born in Russia and moved to the United States when I was six months old. When I started school here I did not speak any English! Now it is my second native language. My parents and I speak Russian at home, and I can read and write in Russian too.

My grandmother, my mom and I decided to familiarize the girls in my class with Russian culture. We brought a few of the traditional foods and items to class. We brought pirogy, a kind of bread with different fruits inside, which my grandmother baked that morning as they are supposed to be served warm and sushki, unsweetened, small doughnuts that are dried and served with tea. We also brought some beautiful artifacts-dolls made of porcelain and cloth and wooden toys.

I wore a traditional authentic Russian girl's costume. I spoke some Russian and talked about the country. I answered questions about Russia that the girls had. Everybody was smiling and happy to learn about Russia. Such meetings and cultural exchanges bring people from all over the world closer together.

Nina Vorobieva, 9
Carrollton School,
Miami, Florida

"You won't be cutting your hair," my dad said. It was an honest reply to the question I just asked him.

"Why not? I can't make friends. I am teased, and sports are hard for me to take part in. Is this all worth it?" I asked.

"The answer is NO. I did not come to this country to see my kids give up their religion. What about all the other kids who have turbans?" Such ignorance! What on Earth was he talking about? If there were other kids around here with turbans, I would not be in such a bind. It was all too hard to digest; I was only 14 at the time.

"How do you want to see your kid grow up? A depressed child who never made friends or joined sports all for the stupid religion you are forcing me to take up!?" I was now over the edge. The conversation had taken a new level, and there was no coming out without a good yelling.

I was sick and tired of being laughed at and teased for my religion, the Sikh faith. Our religion focuses on a strict means of life, daily prayer and equality between men and women. The turban is a symbol of strength. In my world, religious beliefs are strong, and sacrifices to everyday life are made. I had hardly any friends. There was not much to look forward to in the days, weeks or years ahead. I tried to join organized sports. Whether it be hockey, lacrosse, football or any of the other sports kids played, I was turned down. Not that I was unable to try new things, but I was not allowed to play because I had a turban. There was nothing I could do. My family tried desperately to do something. They were willing to spend money to help me get to play. I was upset about this every day. I did not feel compelled to return even if I found a way to play because once I was turned down everyone knew, and the jokes spread like wildfire.

"Ha ha, you can't even play 'cause your helmet won't fit over your turban!" My parents had come to this country over 20 years ago. My father had 23 dollars, and with that, he got himself an education. My mother worked hard, and together they started a family. We now live in an upper-middle class neighborhood in a top school district. It's hard even to imagine what my parents went through because I was too young, and I have never seen that kind of hardship.

School had always been tough. I got teased and laughed at-the cruelty of children. I was different. I was the only Sikh child in a school of more than 3,000 students. My religion was not even clear to me. I did not understand it, as most kids don't understand things. My only hope was to remove my turban and get a haircut. It was not exactly a sin in my mind. I felt that if Jewish people can be Orthodox and wear the traditional garb, and at the same time, there can be Jews who follow the religion but do not wear traditional clothing, this should apply to me as well. My parents did not think so. It was a sin in their eyes, a rejection of the Sikh community and a family disgrace. In Asian culture you are an integral part of the growing community and must do as everyone else around you wants you to do. How much worse could it get for me?

I visited India for the first time last winter, and there I saw the many massive golden temples and the millions of Sikhs who were proud and strong. I began reading books about the history of Sikhs and learned that the turban was not a sacrifice but a symbol of strength and power. Things became clearer to me, and I made the choice not to give up my religion. Now I understand what it means, and that sometimes giving in to others may be the wrong thing to do. I followed my parents' ideals, and I am a happier person. I no longer lust to be the most popular person or to be in the most rigorous of sports.

People mature and change with time, and high school proved to me that people don't care only about what you look like. I made many friends and joined the track team. Even if they do judge me, I know who I am and what my heritage is, and that has made the difference.

Shawn Gulati, 16,
New City, New York

Do you remember your very first day of school? Maybe your mom or dad stayed home from work so they could drive you to school, or maybe they waved good-bye as you rode away in the school bus. You probably wore new clothes for the first day of school, and perhaps, you were just a bit scared. Did you know the first day of school is not the same for every child everywhere? Children living in different countries share different traditions or different ways of doing things.

For children living in Germany the first day of kindergarten is filled with sweets and surprises! It is a day of celebration for the whole family. Like American children, German children start the first day dressed in their best clothes. After that, their day is very different.

In Germany parents go to the school with their children on the first day. That way the child is not alone. The parents stay at the school the whole day.

When they arrive each child receives a zuckertute. A zuckertute is a cone-shaped goodie package filled with toys and sweets. The top is covered with flowers. It is usually large and sometimes stands as tall as the child! The zuckertute is brought to school by the parents before the school day begins. It is tradition for children to have their picture taken holding their zuckertute. Class pictures are also taken on the first day of school. The first day is spent exploring the classroom and getting to know one another. When the day is over, children and parents go home for a family party. The party usually takes place at home, but sometimes it is held at a restaurant.

Brothers, sisters, grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles are invited to the party. In small towns neighbors even come to congratulate the child. Everyone brings gifts for the guest of honor.

This is how it was 60 years ago when my mother was a young girl in Germany, and these traditions are still observed today. It is a sweet celebration for everyone, especially for the children!

Monika Vaccaro,
Hackettstown, New Jersey

The eerie northern lights are luminous on the battlement and wreckage of bodies. They are predators that feast on blood from the enemy soldiers. The poisonous formula is put on arrows that fly at venomous speed. The prisoners scream at the gleaming chains and battle-axes. Why dost thou not eat zooplankton like whales from below that are full of peace and are satisfied and do not drink blood? Why do they want violence, which leads to suffering? Justin Cospito, 9 Tacoma, Washington

They, who fly whose wings brush the clouds whose eyes see the vastness of heaven and the strange, small, insignificance of the Earth, so far below. What do these small, soaring beasts dream of? I, who dream of flying, would like to know. Amanda Sengstacken, 17 New City, New York

To learn about the natural world, would you rather sit in front of a computer and see images of nature that aren't real or walk through nature and smell, feel and touch the real thing?

When you go to learn about minnows, you walk through the forest to go to a pond. You hear the birds chirping and the squirrels chasing each other. You see the silver line on rocks left by snails and slugs, and you even feel the bite of mosquitos. When you get to the pond, you hear the frogs croaking and breathe the smell of flowers and fresh air. You see hundreds of minnows swimming in the pond.

When you sit in front of a computer, you do not hear the animals or smell the flowers or breathe the fresh air. You sit for hours and do not get any exercise, and you do not touch or feel anything at all.

I would much rather hear and smell and touch to learn about nature than sit and see images on a screen.

When you go to a computer and click onto "fish," you miss the unexpected surprises you find on your journey to the pond.

Abbey Forbes, 10, Port Deposit, Maryland. "I'm homeschooled. My dad
teaches me the spiritual way of looking at nature. My mom teaches me the
scientific facts of nature. I merge the two of them together, and that
makes me who I am and how I look at things."

My fingers dance across the keys, As rapid as my thoughts. I feel my eyes begin to glaze, As my spirit slowly rots. The luminescent, glowing screen, On which my eyes are fixed, Sends words and pictures to my brain, With ads and banners mixed. They say to "click for awesome links." The pixels flash so bright. "Click here to order brand new shoes! They'll be there by tonight." Then amidst the whirl of flashing ads, I say suddenly, "I'm through." And then stand up and walk away, And start feeling strangely new. For leaving pixels flashing bright, I step outside the door, And with the flood of sun and birdsong, Comes something vastly more.

Hailey Heinz, 14, Eagle River, AK.
"I have lived in Alaska all of my life,
and it is a place so fraught with natural
beauty that poetry flows from it."

It's funny how the smell of chicken poop in the summer breeze is a pleasant memory, and the experience of putting my hand in a hot compost pile makes me feel good inside. It's hard to explain the heart of farming, the connection that is built between the human and the Earth, where both organism's well-being depends on the well-being of the other, or the feeling of being completely fulfilled after a proud day's work, yet exhausted from the labor. In our search for wisdom as a human species we struggle to find the tools and opportunities from which to gather knowledge.

Everything on this planet has a connection in some way; life cycles rely on each other. If the balance is tipped then the hourglass slowly runs out of time, gathering speed the farther it tips out of balance. We need to become the future and stop relying on the future to fix our mistakes. Organic farming is food grown without chemicals. There are so many toxic chemicals and fossil fuels put directly onto the food and workers on conventional farms that it seems like health alone will force us all to look to organics, not to mention how it affects the consumer.

Our connection to food has changed. The bond between the farmer and the community has changed. Honest hard workers spend their lives trying to learn, practice and teach the art of farming, while their nights are filled with worries about how to compete with the larger companies who are ruining the water sources and taking all the business, while gaining huge support from the communities. I know it's not because people want to eat chemicals, or even that everyone knows what they're putting into their bodies. But a lot of us who see the hazards of pesticides and herbicides can't afford to buy the organically grown produce. That's why farms like the Youth Farm, where youth are taught the value of organic farming and how to actually run the farm, are so important.

The Youth Farm is run by Food For Lane County, an organization focused on ending hunger in our community. The food is sold for about what you'd pay for non-organics in a grocery store. We are able to sell it so cheaply because the local organic farms and community members donate most of the seeds and starts on the farm. What is not sold is sent out to the homeless shelters and directly into the community in emergency food boxes. Volunteers get paid with produce and flowers. If you're hungry and willing to work for your food, then spend an hour weeding, get a bag of produce. There is a constant feeling of pride when the effect you see is so directly obvious.

Positive energy surrounds our farm, even though it's just a block from a mall. The valley's rich riverbed soil blossoms thick luscious greenery in the growing seasons. Huge plants with intricate concentrated communities line the fields. The Earth's secrets are as beautiful and simple as a child's coloring book, its pages torn into strips like the rows in our fields, brightly colored like crayons scattered upon a scribbled on desk top.

As I feel my soul soak into the soil with my sweat, I find my center of peace and love being put into each precise movement. My hands skim over the top of the muddy soil asking the weeds to understand why, while my peers and I question the meanings of life and the pressures we all feel. The soil is healing me as it sucks all the stress from my body, a meditative process that is different for us all. Release your walls built so high by society and plunge your hands to the dirt. Take a stand to make a difference one plant at a time.

The dew clinging to the spiders' webs hanging from the flowers' open fingers...their open hands full of water as they take in the morning's sun....each roaming insect doing the work of angels unseen, filling the air with a pulse of chaotic buzzing songs. So much to take in, just take it one thought at a time. Don't rush to be finished and skip over the details. They're the moments you will remember in the end.

Dove Miller, senior, Northwest Youth Corps Outdoor High School,
Eugene, Oregon. Dove is a crew leader on the Youth Farm.

The Black woman is a Human being with, power, Strength, intelligence, figure And anxiety. She is beautiful, And strong. Her mocha, caramel, Chocolate, ebony, colored brown skin Makes her look unique, Like no other. She's careful And delicate. Gentle as a Flower. She is a companion, A friend, a mother, a sister and An associate. The Black woman, There is no other, No one more beautiful inside Or out. She is beautiful like A flower. Her smile gives me Strength. When I am weak, She lends me her hand, Her words of wisdom help me. When I am discouraged, She is there for me. Thank God for the Black Woman. Nancy Joseph, 16, Brien McMahon H.S.