Category Archives: Asian American

Memories of a Guava Tree

Memories of a Guava Tree

By Dawson Yee, age 13, grade 7, California.

My grandmother’s hands reach for my face
Feeling to be sure I am the child she remembers
Her mind has only enough space
for past Decembers.

My mother, father, and aunt turn in surprise
Her knotted hands grip my shoulders in recognition
With a teasing crinkle in her eyes
she calls my name, an intermission

Three years ago, she gave me a white guava seedling
With hardy red stems and elliptical leaves
She explained what it was needing
Learned from years of shielding it from disease.

Afterwards, she ushered me into the guest room, where she unearthed treasure:
An embroidered Japanese trinket box, a logic puzzle, an old plush toy
Her smiling eyes watched my curiosity with pleasure
As she entered the absurdly colorful world of a little boy.

But now we sit together watching nature shows
And she is like a sailor disappearing into a storm.
I can see her boat sinking but I’m not sure she knows
she’s lost her tiller and our roles will transform.

A logger chopping a tree flashes on the screen
She worries for the animals inside, knowing they are doomed.
I reach over her frail figure and push the remote to intervene
I tell her that our guava has finally bloomed.

—Dawson Yee, age 13, grade 7, California. Dawson writes:

“I see creative writing as a puzzle of wisdom. I’m 13 years old and in 7th grade but take high school English and philosophy at a local independent school. 

“I’ve also adored challenging myself to understand the symbolism behind not only prose such as in magical realism, but also the figurative language in poetry. When I recently analyzed “Boy and Egg” by Palestinian-American poet Naomi Shihab Nye, I found that searching for evidence of Nye’s purposeful line breaks and sound devices to convince a reader she was contrasting the innocence of a childhood immersed in nature versus the chaotic world to be beyond satisfying as a puzzle to solve. 

“I use my heritage as a third-generation Asian American to inform my writing, as it is an important part of how I view the world. I also write with an eye to health, both physical and mental, as I personally have several life-threatening allergies as well as Mass Cell Activation Syndrome, which shape my view of the world. My maternal grandmother, who recently passed away from Alzheimer’s disease, provided the basis for my poem “Memories of a Guava Tree.” In addition, I am influenced by my parents’ experiences as second-generation Americans growing up in predominantly non-Asian rural and inner-city U.S. communities and by my grandparents’ stories of the immigrant experience and their childhoods wrenched by memories of war and poverty. 

“I’m also an Event Coordinator for an online, international Asian American youth writers’ collective, Asian Youth Writers Alliance (asianyouthwritersalliance.com). In the writing groups that I’ve found surrounding these events and projects, where my classmates and fellow writers are insightful and tactful, I feel I have the space to put the puzzle of wisdom together. I would love to connect with a multicultural and global community of young writers who share the same values as these online initiatives. In finding literary magazines like Skipping Stones to share my writing, I realize more and more that I’m truly searching for the exact kind of wisdom and togetherness it provides.”

How I Got My Idea

How I Got My Idea!

By Priya Elizabeth Kapur DeWinter, Grade 5, Massachusetts.

What’s your favorite food? Mine is ice cream. Have you ever wondered if ice cream could be a dress? Well, I wondered that, and it started many thoughts in my mind about designing clothes.

On the day I came up with the idea, I was sitting in Kindergarten wondering as I looked out the window. I saw a big apple tree and in that apple tree was a family of birds. “How beautiful,” I thought. I just love nature so I pulled out a piece of paper and started to draw a dress.

It had a black skirt with a red top. Across it was a green sash that reminded me of nature and the apple tree. It was a beautiful dress, it reminded me of my mom, and the beautiful things she wears. Only, she would prefer purple! The dress was beautiful and I showed it to my mom. She took a picture of it. As I got older, I looked at that picture and really started to focus on it.

Now that I’m older and going into 5th grade, I talk about my drawings. I never got to really do anything with my design after kindergarten. But, the summer before 5th grade, I finally got the opportunity to make the dress. My mom found me a sewing teacher for the summer and we started making MY dress. It was a little bit harder than I thought, but I realized nothing is impossible.

“Nothing is impossible,” I thought when I was little. Drawing is drawing but I never realized it could come to life! Drawing is easy for me but seeing the final outcome is not. You have to put thought into it and believe in yourself. I realized that no one is too young or old to start something new. And, not just for sewing, anything new, you can do! I started sewing classes and the first step was to practice. It took some learning before I could start sewing my own design. I loved learning new things and was so excited to sew the dress!

You’ve learned what I wanted to do from a young age. Now, you should go and find what you want to do. The world is full of stuff and different things to learn everyday. My dress was one dream that I never knew could become real. I really never thought this would actually happen and I loved learning how to sew and my new dress!

 

“My name is Priya Elizabeth Kapur DeWinter. I share my full name because it tells you about my family. My mother is 100% Indian—which is where the Kapur comes from—and my father is half Irish and half Belgian. DeWinter is a Belgian name. 

“My maternal grandparents are from India. I’ve never been and hope to go one day. I speak Hindi and English. I’m an older sister. I hope I can be an author or fashion designer when I’m older. I got inspired one day to ask my mom if I could sew the dress that I designed when I was 5 so I did and made it happen, which is what my story is about along with pictures of my original design as well as the dress.”

Ohana

Ohana

By Likhita Makam, age 15, Telangana, India

We fight and apologies we forget.
We get lost and we get upset.
We fall apart into a million pieces,
But being together smooths out all the creases.

Because in the end we’re a family
although we don’t get along dandily
Far from picture perfect Pinterest poses
We make it to the diner just before it closes
We spend weekends at home in quarrels
Perfect family? For that we’d have zero laurels
But we stick together, no matter what
for each other we’d take a jab in the gut, somewhat
What matters the most is we never part
We’re always close, we never depart

Because we’re a family
And family means nobody gets left behind
No matter our irregularities
No matter our similarities

—Likhita Makam, age 15, Indian American high school student, living in India. She has been published in youth newspapers and literary magazines. She is an avid reader and is up for a poetry discussion at all times.

Manu and Noah: Strikingly Different, Surprisingly Similar

Manu and Noah: Strikingly Different, Surprisingly Similar

By Sahil Prasad, grade 8, Maryland.

King Manu, the first man according to Hinduism, and Noah, the survivor of the great flood, are two legendary men, who hail from entirely different religions of the world. Yet, these great individuals, surprisingly, shared multiple similarities that would be interesting to dwell upon during these times when religion is the source of divisiveness.

The Great Flood Survivors

First, both Manu and Noah were chosen by their respective Gods to survive a great flood. Their stories are startlingly similar. It is incredible that the two civilizations that these stories originated from were never in direct contact with each other until many centuries later!

The Matsya or Fish Avatar of Lord Vishnu. Artwork is from the public domain and Wikipedia.

Manu was a sage who dedicated his life to faithfully serving and worshiping Hindu gods. The Lord Vishnu, the preserver in the Hindu trinity, chose Manu to be the survivor of a flood that would cleanse the world. The story goes that Vishnu decided to take the form of a tiny fish, the first of Vishnu’s ten avatars, and said to Manu, “Protect me from my predators and I will reward you.” Manu decided to keep the Vishnu-fish in a pot, which it quickly outgrew, and then in a lake, which also proved to be too small for the fish. Eventually, Manu moved the fish to the ocean. This is where Vishnu assumed his true form and informed Manu about a great flood that was about to occur. To ensure that his faithful follower survived, Vishnu instructed Manu to build an ark or a giant boat with all the animals, seeds, and other essential materials to survive the flood and start a new life. Manu decided to invite the seven holy sages or the Saptarishis to live with him in the new world. Manu and the seven holy sages guided the ark through the giant flood with the help of Vishnu–who led the ship with his horn in his giant fish form–to a peak where they rested until the world was cleansed. Finally, Vishnu came true to his promise and bestowed upon Manu the scriptural knowledge and power. The scriptural knowledge was passed down by Manu’s descendants and still continues to be studied today in the form of the Vedas.

Fun fact: According to B. B. Lal, the former director of the India Archaeology Institute, the flood of Manu approximately occurred as far back as the second millennium BCE.

Now coming to Noah; unlike Manu, the human race already existed in Noah’s world. The old human race was only concerned with money and killing, so God was disappointed with them. He decided to give the humans another chance by having Noah, the only devotee and true believer left on the planet, to be the guardian of a better human race. Noah, like Manu, also built an ark under God’s instructions, which were, “Build an ark of gopherwood, with rooms inside, three decks, and a door. Cover it inside and out with pitch.” (Genesis 6:13-22) Noah’s ark wandered the Earth (with Noah’s family and the various species that he had been instructed to bring with him) for 40 days and 40 nights in continuous rain. Noah traversed the ocean for another 150 days until God directed the boat to Mount Ararat (in present day Turkey) where it halted. Eventually, Noah sent out a dove to find land for them to settle and it came back a week later with an olive branch, which meant that land was out there. Just like to Manu, God made a promise to Noah that he would never flood the Earth ever again.

Harbingers of the Human Race

Manu and Noah were also attributed with ensuring the survival of the human race. After the great flood, Manu made a sacrifice to Brahma, the Creator in the Hindu trinity. He placed sour milk and butter in shallow water and this resulted in a maiden emerging from it, soon to become his wife. Eventually, the human race would start to grow at an exponential rate. Manu then instituted a quintessential set of laws (Laws of Manu) based on the Hindu scriptures that his ten sons and one daughter and subsequently, their descendants had to follow. One of these laws was to divide the population based on their gunas or skill sets. For example, people who were versed in the scriptures would be known as Brahmins. Eventually, humanity split into the solar clan founded by Manu’s sons and the lunar clan founded by Manu’s daughter. According to Hindu scriptures, Manu will be reincarnated when our current universe will be cleansed by Vishnu—in about 186.72 million years according to the Hindu scriptures—and he will be the leader and lawgiver of a more superior race.

In the case of Noah, after the devastating flood, he continued to live with his family and repopulate the Earth. Noah lived until the age of 950 and just like Manu, God helped his family grow rapidly. Just like the descendants of Manu split into the Solar and Lunar Clans, Noah’s descendants also split and settled the world, but they followed a different and more contentious trajectory than Manu’s descendants. Here’s how it played out.

Noah’s great grandson, Nimrod, began to build a colossal structure called the Tower of Babel, which slowly approached the height of the heavens. Citizens thought that Nimrod was building a temple, but it was revealed that reaching the heavens was his motivation all along to prove that he was an equal to God. As a result of Nimrod’s selfish actions, God decided to halt the construction of the Tower by making the workers speak different languages so they wouldn’t understand each other. As a last step, God took his punishment further and decreed that people of the city had to settle all around the world. This is how the world came to be inhabited according to the story of Noah and his family.

So there it is: the story of Manu and Noah. Given the striking similarities between them, some experts argue that they could be one and the same, a theory certainly worth pondering.

—Sahil Prasad, grade 8, Maryland.

 

Sketching and Painting a Horse

Sketching and Painting a Horse

By Janelle Tang, High School Senior, England, United Kingdom.

Horse Sketch: This was originally the planning sketch for a painted piece following a photo shoot (capturing the vitality and movement of horses). But while sketching it from a picture, I realised that there was much more to the muscles and twitches in the musculature of the horse than I had initially thought. Hoping to learn more about the facial structure and how the animal uses each muscle, I started sketching it out in more detail, finding tiny veins in the photograph that I had looked past originally. Eventually, the pencil sketch turned into a detailed pencil drawing of the horse. This not only allowed me to finesse my pencil skills, but also it led to a more detailed understanding of a horse’s musculature, which was later applied to another painting.

Horse Painting:

This painting was created after a photo shoot to capture horses’ vitality and movement and my curiosity to explore digital tools like Photoshop. I layered multiple pictures of horses, saddles and reigns together, and juggled with the formats, colouring and opacity of each image, and used different filters on each to highlight multiple areas on each image. This allowed me to focus on fine details I was interested in each image, treating each of them differently and associating colours and tone with each image, while still capturing the likeness of the horse. The medium of oil paint allowed me to create details in the image, changing the opacity as well through thinning the paint down in different areas, finally creating a cohesive painting that blends and flows throughout using optical mixing.

About the Artist:

Janelle Tang is a rising senior at Wycombe Abbey School in England. With a passion for art that ignited during her early years, Janelle has been painting since she was a young girl. As she grew, her curiosity led her to explore the captivating worlds of ceramics and textiles. With an adventurous spirit, Janelle delved into the realms of oil painting and hand-building pottery, and her artistic horizons expanded exponentially. 

Janelle’s artistic interests encompass a deep fascination with the Romanticism period of art, as well as the captivating allure of Oriental styles, such as Ukiyo-e prints. Diving into these subjects, she has written essays and conducted extensive research, delving into the techniques and styles of these art forms. This process has not only enriched her knowledge but has also ignited an even greater passion for the world of art.

As the Head of History of Art Society at her school, Janelle strives to inspire her peers and create a thriving artistic community. Her artistic journey has been one of growth, exploration, and unwavering dedication to the arts. With her unquenchable thirst for knowledge and her desire to generate unique ideas and solutions, Janelle hopes to leave an indelible mark on the canvas of artistic expression and beyond.

The Secret

The Secret

By Hongwei Bao, United Kingdom.

“Your secret is safe with me,” was Ming’s promise when I told him that I liked boys instead of girls.

Ming was my best friend at school. Wearing the same type of school uniform, Ming looked older and bigger, but we were the same age. We grew up together in the same neighbourhood and our parents knew each other well. Ming was always the first one to hear stories from me. I trusted him on everything and anything. One afternoon after school, we met at the balance bars on the school playground as usual. It was just the two of us. I mustered up courage and told him about my secret.

Ming seemed slightly surprised, but he soon smiled and agreed to keep it a secret for me, as he had done other times. We were best friends after all. After a few push-ups, we headed for our own homes.

The next morning, in the school corridor, just as I was about to wave at him and say hi, I noticed something was different. As soon as he saw me, he dropped his head and continued to walk on, avoiding eye contact with me. In the classroom, I couldn’t help casting frequent glimpses at his side—he wasn’t looking at me. In fact, he remained quiet all day. When the school bell rang, he picked up his schoolbag and left the classroom in a rush. Was it because of my secret? What did he do to my secret?

I ate very little that evening. Mum frowned when she saw the food I’d left in the bowl. Dad threw me a disapproving look and asked me how my day was. “It was OK,” I replied, “lots of homework to do.” I stood up, ready to leave the table.

“Wait!” Dad raised his hand and gestured me to sit down. His eyes looked serious.

After a few seconds of silence, he spoke: “We know it. Ming told his parents, and his dad told me about it.”

I could hear my own heartbeat.

”I’ve asked them to keep it a secret. They’ll make sure Ming doesn’t talk about it either,” Dad added.

A relief, followed by a profound sense of sadness.

“You should learn a lesson from this. Don’t talk about things you don’t understand.”

Horrified by these words, I nodded sheepishly.

“Ming will remain your friend, but he will need more time to understand this,” he consoled me.

I dropped my head, tears in my eyes.

The next morning, in the school corridor and in the classroom, I tried to avoid Ming. The day felt long, and the air was steaming hot. I couldn’t concentrate on the lessons. The words in the textbook jumped around and didn’t make much sense. I wished the Earth would crack open, and I could disappear into the hole. I felt ashamed for what I had done, and for who I was.

Near the end of a day, a small, folded paper ball landed on my desk. I picked it up and unwrapped slowly. Ming’s handwriting jumped into my eyes:

“Can we talk?”

There, on the playground, near the balance bars, Ming told me that he was confused the other day and didn’t know what to do. So he told his parents about it. They simply told him to shut up and keep quiet. But he couldn’t help thinking about it, and about me. He told me that he liked boys too.

—Hongwei Bao (he/him) grew up in China and now lives in Nottingham, UK. He uses short stories, poems, reviews and essays to explore queer desire, Asian identity, diasporic positionality, and transcultural intimacy. 

 

United States v. Wong Kim Ark

United States v. Wong Kim Ark

By Fanny Wong, New York

In October 1895, Wong Kim Ark was lucky he didn’t get sick and die on his ten-week journey on the steamship Coptic from China to San Francisco. The third-class hold was crowded and poorly ventilated. He was eager to return to his small apartment on Sacramento Street in the city he loved. He missed everything about his city—San Francisco, even its fog.

At age 22, Wong had already visited China several times. So when he arrived at the dock, he was shocked to find out that he would not be allowed to land. How could the Collector of Customs, Mr. John Wise, not allow him to land? True, this man was known to be against Chinese immigration. But Wong’s identification paper was in good order. He even had three white residents vouch he was born in the city and was a good resident.

Wise had detained Wong on the grounds that he was not an U.S. citizen. And, Wong became a prisoner on the ship.

Wong Kim Ark, courtesy of the National Archives

Wong was born in San Francisco in 1873 to parents of Chinese descent. Around 1881, the parents had returned to China after a 20-year stay in San Francisco. However, Wong had chosen to stay in the United States, and now he found himself in a dire situation after another trip to China.

Fortunately, an aid association, The Chinese Consolidated Benevolent Association, was ready to help him. Its lawyers argued that his rights as a citizen were being violated. The Fourteenth Amendment of the U.S. Constitution, ratified in 1868, stated, “All persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and the State wherein they reside…”

The U.S. Solicitor General, Mr. Holmes Conrad, disagreed and appealed the case all the way to the Supreme Court. He argued that Wong’s parents were subjects of the emperor of China and by extension Wong was also the subject of the emperor.

When the case was argued in 1897, the Supreme Court justices were, Stephen Field, John Harland, Horace Gray, Melville Fuller, David Brewer, Henry Brown and Rufus Peckham. The justices debated whether American citizenship should be based on the principle of “right of blood” (jus sanguinis) or “right of the soil” (jus soli). The Supreme Court did not agree with the Solicitor General and ruled in favor of Wong. Justice Horace Gray wrote the opinion on behalf of a 6-2 majority. The court established the concept of jus soli—the citizenship of children born in the United States to non-citizens.

The cloud over his citizenship had disappeared forever!

Wong’s landmark case set a very important precedent. It remains today the definitive interpretation of the 14th Amendment’s birthright provision. It affects all the children born to legal and illegal immigrant parents. It is reasonable to say that Wong never expected his case to have such long lasting and important consequence. Immigrants may not know his name, but they certainly know the rights of their children born in the United States.

—By Fanny Wong, Chinese American author and long-time contributor to Skipping Stones, New York.

Notes
1868: The 14th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution ratified.
1882: The Chinese Exclusion Act signed by President Arthur. It restricted entry and immigration of Chinese labor, both skilled and unskilled, into the United States.

A S.T.E.M. Woman from India

A S.T.E.M. Woman from India

By Saroj Pathak, originally from India, now lives in California.

My 50 years of professional life have been a series of challenges, failures, triumphs, and also a few shattered glass ceilings. I would like to share my experiences and describe some of the twists and turns, and the choices I made.

I grew up in Indore, Central India. We were six siblings growing up in a middle-class family. In the 1960s, my high school, St. Raphael H.S., did not offer math major to girls! I was exceptional in Math and wanted to pursue my passion. My father talked to Mrs. Jagdale, who was the head of a small public school nearby. Mrs. Jagdale, an early Women’s Rights pioneer, said, “If our girls want to take math, we have to start math classes.”

Now retired, Saroj Pathak Recently Visited the Historic Site of Mandu, near the city of Indore, Madhya Pradesh (Autumn 2023)

So my sister and I moved to Mrs. Jagdale’s school. In the nurturing environment of this small school, I ranked third in the state’s high school board examinations, an exceptional achievement!

From 1965 to 1969, I attended S.G.S.I.T.S., the only engineering college in Indore (M.P.). There were only five female students in the entire college. We had to fight for a small private bathroom and a tiny women’s room. I excelled in my chosen field of Electronics and Electrical Engineering and held the first rank in all branches of engineering throughout the four years. I was like a sponge; I absorbed everything offered. There was so much to learn from all my professors.

As graduation approached, I started looking for options for further studies. My parents were liberal but still would not send their daughter away for higher education out of state. And, I didn’t have the audacity to argue.

Dr. Dasgupta, the head of the college, recognizing my potential, and created an opportunity for me to pursue higher education in collaboration with the prestigious Indian Institute of Technology (I.I.T.) at Bombay (now, Mumbai), while working as a lecturer at G.S.I.T.S. in the Electronics Department. While satisfying my drive to excel, this enabled me to live at home. I taught for three years while completing my Master’s degree in Engineering in Control Systems from I.I.T. Although this experience was challenging, I wanted more.

I reached for a moonshot and applied for and was awarded a Rotary International Scholarship to study abroad. It was an easy decision to select University of California at Berkeley for further studies. I dared to dive head-on into the unknown, knowing only one person in America; a graduate student who had graduated from S.G.S.I.T.S. a few years ahead.

It was shocking for me to realize that I was the ONLY female student in the graduate school of electrical engineering, even at this prestigious university. The students and the professors were friendly and treated me with the utmost respect and kindness.

After graduating from U. C. Berkeley with a Master’s in Electrical Engineering and Computer Science, I worked as a semiconductor design and development engineer at American Microsystems in the Silicon Valley of California. When I came in for the job interview, the manager and engineers were shocked to see a female candidate. Women engineers were rare.

The Silicon Valley was full of type-A men, hungry for fame and wealth. It was a norm to “pull all-nighters.” All the engineers were transplants from somewhere else, and without family obligations; we worked hard and played harder. We created a family regardless of skin color or gender. We were on an endorphin high from the success of our innovations.

From 1975 to 1983, I worked with a small group of engineers at Intel Corporation; that’s where we invented and produced the first ‘non-volatile’ memory chips. These were the first chips that retained data (information) after unplugging the power supply. This was revolutionary! We published international papers, had numerous patents, and enjoyed the glory of success. I was a manager by this time and always felt respected and valued. My opinions counted, and I had the center seat at the table.

In 1983, I was offered a job at a Startup company to set up a non-volatile product line. My initial response was NO. I had an eight-month-old son and a three-year-old daughter. I was unwilling to work long hours. Since the company’s CEO wouldn’t take NO for an answer, we negotiated. I agreed to join the company, understanding that I could go home at 5 p.m. every day. The company provided flexibility, and I used my professional judgment to balance work and family needs.

Two years later, the room was packed with engineers from around the world when I presented a research paper on the First High-Speed Non-Volatile Memory at the International Solid-State Circuits Conference (ISSCC). My children sat in the front row. By then, I was confident and assertive enough to invite my children without asking.

When a Vice President position opened up, I did not consider it because I knew it meant working very long hours, and I did not want to sacrifice time with my children. Later, when the children were older and busy with school activities, I accepted a position as Director of a multinational research and development group in a different company. Most often, I was the only woman in the room where the decisions were made. Yet I also attended most of the swim meets, music lessons, cross-country running events and other activities with my children.

After 45 years in business, I decided to follow my lifelong goal of helping the younger generation in STEM field. I am passionate about the accessibility of primary science education to all children. To that end, I have started a non-profit that teaches science fundamentals to children of all socioeconomic statuses. I mentor through Stanford Mentorship Connections and other non-profit organizations. I am also the president of a local Kiwanis club whose mission is the education and well-being of children.

Advice to My Younger Self:

* Enjoy the ride. The trailblazing path is littered with obstacles, but there is no greater joy than facing challenges and finding solutions.

* Discover your core values and be true to them. Define your goals on your terms. Do not let others decide who you should become. Sort through the clutter of cultural baggage and embrace that which gives you joy.

* Be like a river flowing constantly towards the ocean, soft and flexible, but always focused on the destination. Change directions, detour if necessary, or carve a new valley, but keep flowing towards your goal.

* Be confident. You are stronger than you feel, smarter than you think, and braver than you know. Use any fear as motivation to be successful. That fear will then turn into confidence.”

* Educate yourself and acquire indispensable skills.

* Take chances. Inventions are just a step away from failure. Become comfortable with failure and learn from it.

* Dare to shatter glass ceilings, even if that means cuts and bruises. The pain of cuts and bruises is the price you pay to help your daughters and granddaughters.

* Most importantly, find a mentor. Find several mentors. Surround yourself with your cheerleaders. Find inspiration from the life stories of the pioneers who paved the path before you. From mythological women to recent ones, our (Indian) history is full of women who advanced humanity through their ingenuity, courage, and persistence.

* Be a mentor. You are standing on the shoulders of giants. Later, you can offer your shoulders to those following you.

* Be ready to choose. Most successful people have made difficult choices to get there.

* Find a supportive spouse. Sheryl Sandberg, author of “Lean In” and ex-CTO of Facebook, said, “The single most crucial decision you will make in your life is whom you marry, for this will determine the rest of your life.” She was talking to graduates of Harvard Law School.

* “Start the conversation before committing to marriage, not after.” Did you know that the Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg credited her husband for her success?

In Conclusion, as a young adult in STEM fields, I would like you to be brave, explore, and take chances. Show up daily, sit at the table, and speak up in a firm, clear and compassionate voice. Act like the fate of humanity depends on you because it does.

—Saroj Pathak, originally from India, lives in California. She shared this advice with engineering students at her Alma mater in Indore, India, in November 2023.

Photo: Saroj in Indore, Nov. 2023.

Balance

Balance

“Girl Riding A Horse” by Aadya Agarwal, age 12, New Jersey.          

 

As the wind weaved through my black hair,
Flying in the golden sunshine,
A sudden gush of independence rushed at me.

On top of my slender caramel horse,
I measured north to south, east to west,
All painted with a rural landscape.

I was on top, on top of my mighty world,
I could have done anything!
Yet, riding along with my jovial spirits, I felt something.
A ball of fear knotting up in my stomach.

Freedom and Independence were new, they were fresh.
Alas, they did not come free!
In front of me, loomed a bridge,
A bridge between Protection and Freedom

While protection offers security,
It’s also a locked cage.
While freedom demands responsibility,
You are the person you choose to be.

And then there is a balance between the two.
As on my slender caramel horse,
I ride free, the gentle strap safely protecting me.

—Aadya Agarwal, age 12, New Jersey. She writes: “The inspiration for my poem came from a horseback riding adventure I went on while vacationing in India this past summer. The entire experience filled me with a range of emotions of independence, confidence, fear and anxiety and my attempt to balance it all in that moment. It was truly an experience that I will never forget and something that unraveled an important question about freedom and responsibility for me.”