Category: Uncategorized

Tensions have been high during this year’s production of the Nutcracker. We are setting a four to five minute dance, the Waltz of the Flowers, two weeks before the show, and it has a lot of group work and formations. In all my years of ballet, I have never been in a production that has scrambled this much. Recently, I was considering quitting the production and my numerous roles, due to the ill-mannered audacity of a professional dancer, who I am going to call R.

It was Sunday afternoon, and I was at a rehearsal from 1:00- 3:00 pm for a specific scene in the Nutcracker- the battle scene. The director then wished to move onto setting Waltz of the Flowers, which was unplanned. As the director dismissed the younger students in the battle scene, I picked up my phone with the intention of asking when the rehearsal would be done. In the past we have gone to 4:00 and even 5:00 trying to set group dances. While the director was trying to think about the dance, R, sitting right next to him, barked at me to put my phone down. I calmly explained myself, but before the director could answer, R said that the director was telling me. The director had released the younger dancers 45 minutes before they were supposed to go. Now, there is no telling what he would do because he ended up NOT telling us when we were going to leave.

 

Imagine that, a professional dancer, who is not my teacher, not my director, does not even know my name thinks he can order me around. I was so shocked that all I could do was stare, and put my phone down in defeat. But that was not the end.

 

While learning Waltz of the Flowers, there were sections in which the girls were partnered by male dancers. One of the taller girls was being partnered by R, and during a lift he dropped her. The poor girl could have gotten injured, but instead of apologizing, R just blames his fault on it being “slippery.”

In the past, R has dropped girls, gotten numerous complaints against him, and has performed terribly in past productions. The previous day, he had slept for hours through our rehearsal of scenes that he is actually assigned to be in. The other girls and I agreed that he is the most unprofessional, inconsiderate dancer we have ever seen and that it is very clearly unsafe for our girls to do any partner work requiring lifts with him.

So we discussed it with my mother and the owner of the studio. We stated our situation and came to the conclusion that the director would have to change the choreography, but still keep R in the production, to maintain his “pride” as a friend of the director. I made it very clear that I was to partner with R at any point in the production and the director would not change the choreography, I would quit.

That night, I stayed up late, unable to fall asleep. Fury filled my mind, and I tried to imagine ways that I could have dealt with the situation differently. But in the end, I did not have the strength or fortitude to have acted differently. The world is full of people like R, and I have to learn how to either face them or work around them. I suppose that it all starts with just expressing openly how I feel, being honest. But if not for me, maybe I could make a difference for the others that are stepped upon, and the other girls whose safety and mental well being are compromised. I was then able to drift asleep.

Here are some of my thoughts about different brands and styles of pointe shoes!

Necessary for pointe shoes:

• Has to have correct length, no more than pinch
• Complement feet shape
• Accomodate individual toe shape
• Breaks in the correct spot
• Proper support
• Good feel

 

Bloch Eurostretch- 

• I liked the fit of the shoe and the feel of the material as it can easily stretch to accommodate being on and off pointe.
• I also jet glued the inner part of the pointe shoe at the ball of the feet, but the shoe still broke very low.
• It was extremely easy to get up on the box, to the point of not being as supported during pirouettes and any movement that applies torque. I am used to Russian pointe shoes, which are definitely harder and require more energy to get up to pointe.
• I used a technique called darning to ensure that the platform is more stable when on pointe and preventing loose threads from ripping off, which also helps keep me in balance.
• I felt very grounded on pointe, which is a different feeling than I am accustomed to.

 

Overall: I would recommend this type of shoe for beginners on pointe and not those who are more advanced and have more strength to get on pointe. Personally, I felt like I was pushing far too over the box. This shoe had more of an aesthetic appeal to me with my arch in the initial stages of wearing it, but ultimately lacked support for my feet.

Russian Rubin, v-cut flex medium shank-

• There was excess fabric at the heel of the pointe shoe when I went on pointe, despite my attempts to sew ribbons lower, into the heel.
• I appreciate the support and feel of a full shank, but it did not flatter my arch, despite breaking higher and closer to my arch.
• The platform is larger, which allows me more area to balance on. The box is also tapered, which fits my foot shape and my narrow feet.
• This type of pointe shoe feels fairly rigid on either side of my foot.

Overall: This type of shoe is for those that have gained more strength on pointe, and it may be somewhat difficult for beginners to make sure they stay over the box. I loved the support from the shank of this shoe, but it did not enhance the look and shape of my feet. This shoe is quite hard on the inner and outer parts of my feet, causing blisters and pinches in my pinky toes.

 

Merlet Diva ¾ shank-

• This shoe had the proper length and was not constricting at all.
• Unlike the other two types of pointe shoes, the Diva has a three-quarter shank, meaning the shank only goes up to the middle of the arch or heel. Therefore, the shoe can bend more, thus improving the look of my feet.
• Like the Russian Rubin, this shoe has a longer vamp to accommodate my longer toes as well as a larger platform to balance on.
• The Diva is quite easy to break in, especially near the ball of the foot. Despite not having a full shank, it does provide enough support for my feet.
• The feel of the shoe is very fluid and flexible, yet able to support all ballet movements. 
• Additional features:
• This shoe has suede tips (on the platform), which prevents ripping of fabric and slipping. 
• On the inner part of the box, there is extra padding to reduce the noise that the shoe makes when landing from a jump.
• The shank is made out of plastic, which is supposed to last longer than those made from layers of cardboard and paper glued together, like the Russian Rubins.

Overall: I absolutely adored this shoe as it was the perfect fit and complemented my foot shape fairly well. I particularly like the effect of the three-quarter shank in being flexible, yet able to support the strength of my feet. The additional features in this shoe made it one of my favorites to dance with, especially with the suede tips. Even though this shoe did improve the look of my arch, it shaped my feet in a more elongated way, versus bending to show off the arch.

“Bye, Marvin!” she cried out, gently patting my hood. 

 

The blaring beep of the morning bell, signals a new day, eliciting a sigh as she trudges onward toward the building. I wave goodbye with my white and black checkered mirrors, wishing her a gentle farewell that she will never see.

 

It’s a waiting game until her sixth period- around 12:28 or so. Occasionally, a few other cars pass by, busily revving their way to where they are supposed to be. But I am here in my parking spot,

watching

 

as 

 

the 

 

clouds 

 

drift 

 

away. 

 

Sometimes I see a squirrel scurrying about the parking lot, weaving its way in and out of the lines and across the street. It settles near the acorn tree at a corner of the tennis courts, where students can cross the street to the fields behind the school. A bushy tail curls its way up the tree and out of sight.

Other times, I think about her. When she first began driving me. Her hands clasped tightly around the wheel, panicking because thirty miles an hour was far too fast. At that time, she had a heavy foot, impatient to accelerate as the person behind her was “judging” her for not keeping up with the speed of traffic. Traffic always goes faster than the speed limit. 

 

In any case, with much practice, she has finally gotten much better since the beginning. Now, she feels more relaxed driving on her own- no mother to reprimand her for not stopping a thousand meters before the car infront of her. From place to place, no matter how short the distance, an assortment of music reverberates off the seats, accompanied by her decent, albeit improved, singing voice. Apparently, she has taken voice lessons since sophomore year, and it shows to some degree. 

 

Her ultimate passion is ballet though. Frequently during the week, we go to her ballet studio together, churning away down Ogden, late as always. Her purple bag on the passenger seat is heavier than it needs to be, filled with exercise equipment that she does not really use except at home. Her ankle weights total five pounds, and her theraband and flexistretcher torture device inflate her bag. It has gotten to the point where she cannot even fit her ballet shoe bag into the purple bag. Her little eccentricities get me wheeling in laughter. 

 

Oh, she is heading out now! Quickly, she glides down the steps toward the lower parking lot, despite the heavy load on her back- yet another bulky, overstuffed bag. Scrambling for her key she unlocks me and starts my engine.

 

Are you ready to go? She puts on her music as usual, setting up her phone to play whatever Youtube has curated in her playlist. And off we go.

 

This time, she is silent as we drive home. Only the music drifts through the air, accompanied by the low hum of the air conditioning. Her mind is elsewhere. Sometimes, she seems despondent, a pensive look spreading across her unmasked face.

 

She arrives home, hurriedly eats lunch, and we head back to school.

Again, I find myself waiting.

I do not understand her adolescent gloom. 

 

If I was her, I would be eternally joyful, having the freedom to go wherever I desire without a key. I could be gallivanting around the world right now, observing artwork at the Louvre, witnessing the pyramids’ majesty in Egypt, tasting the handmade mochi of Granny Mochi in Japan. People would call my name on hotel bookings and restaurants. Reservation for Marvin. My newfound friends among different cultures would love to speak on the phone. Hello, Marvin! And I could show love and be loved. No more side view mirrors. Goodbye, Isabel!

 

She exits the doors of the school, down the same set of stairs, back to me. When she removes her mask, I see a grin plastered on her face. Whatever happens at school appears to be forever rebounding from good to bad. Or a capricious attitude gets the best of her. She unlocks the door, and tumbles inside, her burdensome backpack crashing in next to her.

Or, maybe she realized just how lucky she truly is. To be free, to be able to speak and sing and dance and wave and go anywhere she desires. 

 

But for now, she is also confined to a routine, just like me. I find it funny that we have the same dream: to travel the world, see new places, experience life. And I hope that someday we both will get that chance. Until then,

 

“Let’s go home, Marvin!” she exclaims. Will do.

*Dedicated to a lovely ash gray bunny named Sky*

Recently, I discovered that a friend of mine whose bunnies had a litter of babies was planning on donating one to the school. Eager to see the baby bunny, I volunteered to help her introduce the bunny to a new home. I vividly remember the day in my car before school when she asked me to name the bunny. Storm? Stormy? I glanced out the window, upward, toward the cloud-speckled blue atmosphere. Sky. My friend agreed.

After discussing some details with the Companion Animal Science teacher, we dedicated the rest of the time before school started to ensuring that the bunny felt well accommodated to her new home. The bunny had a new cage, straw grass bedding, and green leafy vegetables to munch. My friend was apprehensive about leaving weeks old Sky in the care of others, giving the bunny a lengthy, loving farewell.

 

Throughout the day, I heard students in every hallway spreading the news of the school’s newest animal addition. I promised to visit the bunny during eighth period and give my friend details about Sky’s acclimation to the school. I returned to the Companion Animal classroom, finding several students gathering around the baby bunny. It was mildly annoying trying to worm my phone around the students in order to take a picture; they obstructed the view with their hands, surrounding the cage. Despite the scene of a thousand monstrous hands descending towards her, Sky seemed to have a healthy appetite and was resting to the far right within her cage. I sent my pictures to my friend, who was pleased with Sky’s adapting to the school.

 

It was a week later that I had learned of dear Sky’s passing. It was quite a shock, considering how healthy the bunny had been before the weekend. My friend was devastated, having spent most of Monday mourning the loss of her beloved pet. In the hallway after our biology class, she explained how she wanted to take Sky home with her that last Friday. However, Sky ended up going home with the Companion Animal Science teacher. On Saturday, Sky was discovered to have stopped breathing and was soon pronounced deceased at a veterinarian’s office. 

 

How could such a young, happy, healthy baby bunny have passed away so suddenly?

Sky had so much life ahead of her. So many leafy greens to eat, training sessions to be had, adventures around the school. Nature had determined her fate so quickly.

 

Naturally, I had to research possible reasons for Sky’s unforeseen death. As an added bonus, I also learned that bunnies are a cuter, less scientific term for rabbits and that bunnies are always rabbits but rabbits are not always bunnies (“Difference Between Bunnies and Rabbits”).

 

It is possible that the bunny had a fear-related heart attack, which may account for the suddeness of her passing. Like many other baby rabbits, Sky is a timid creature, who excites at noises that they do not regularly hear. The noise is perceived as a threat from a predator, an inborn trait that raises their heart rates, resulting in heart failure in most cases (“Why do Baby Rabbits Die Suddenly”). These noises could range from a dog barking to the sound of a firecracker. 

Parasites could be another viable option. Baby rabbits may become carriers for parasites, including the two most common strains of Coccidiosis and E. Cunculi, the former being an intestinal parasite that produces E. Coli bacteria (“10 Reasons Bunnies Die”). These parasites can rapidly spread to other parts of the body, which may lead to death. Rabbits may potentially show signs of parasites including lethargy, pale gums, and blood or mucus in the droppings (“10 Reasons Bunnies Die”). 

Other diseases could be brought on by genetic variation, allowing young rabbits to be susceptible to some intestinal or respiratory diseases. For example, the bacterium Staphylococcus aureus can easily be transmitted between siblings or from mother to baby through human hands, straw, etc. (“Causes of mortality in newborn rabbits”). Symptoms exhibited may involve sneezing or coughing, unusual breathing patterns, and discharge from the nose or eyes. One other bacterium is Pasteurella multocida, causing different respiratory issues and abscesses on different regions of the rabbit’s body (“Causes of mortality in newborn rabbits”).

Another common affliction for rabbits is rabbit stroke. Rabbits could exhibit signs of neck tilt, or other early symptoms of stroke such as seizures or tremors, facial weakness, nystagmus (side-to-side eye movements), and paralysis of a hind leg (“6 Reasons Your Baby Rabbits Keep Dying”). These symptoms could persist, with advanced stages allowing little chance for rabbits to survive. 

The last option I considered was GI Stasis, a widespread condition in rabbits that can turn quite serious. With this condition, a rabbit’s digestive system slows, preventing food particles from being processed easily and causing bacteria to accumulate in the gut (“10 Reasons Bunnies Die”). It is difficult to imagine that Sky could be in severe pain in her abdomen, feeling extremely bloated and uncomfortable. 

Although the bunny appeared to be healthy, Sky may have displayed symptoms that my friend and I did not stay long enough to view them. Given that Sky was not monitored at each moment of the day by students and the teacher, she could have developed any of these symptoms that simply went unnoticed. I did not see Sky the day before and the day of her untimely passing- there was so much to observe. So many unknowns.

I suppose I will never know. Regardless of whether I determine the cause of death or not, poor Sky has passed. And there’s nothing I can do now except remember her fondly for the little time that I knew her. For the little time that she experienced life on this Earth. I suppose that is the perspective I should take on Death itself. Instead of allowing that dark, shadowy cloud to reign over my mind, consuming me with an obsession with information, I should simply accept the truth. 

So rest in peace, dear Sky.

 

Sources

“Ask Any Difference.” Ask Any Difference, 4 Mar. 2021, https://askanydifference.com/difference-between-bunnies-and-rabbits/. 

Pittman, Laura, and Annemaria Duran. “10 Reasons Bunnies Die: Causes of Sudden Death in Rabbits.” Best Farm Animals, 20 Sept. 2021, https://bestfarmanimals.com/10-reasons-bunnies-die-causes-of-sudden-death-in-rabbits/#:~:text=%2010%20Reasons%20Bunnies%20Die%3A%20Causes%20of%20Sudden,condition%20in%20all%20rabbits%2C%20even%20baby…%20More%20. 

Resources, Farm. “6 Reasons Your Baby Rabbits Keep Dying.” Farm Animal Report, 15 July 2021, https://www.farmanimalreport.com/2020/05/04/6-reasons-your-baby-rabbits-keep-dying/. 

Van Praaq, Esther. “Newborn Mortality – Medirabbit.” MediRabbit, MediRabbit, http://www.medirabbit.com/EN/Uro_gen_diseases/Repro/Newborn/Newborn_mortality_en.pdf. 

“Why Do Baby Rabbits Die Suddenly?” Neeness, Rabbitology, 19 Apr. 2021, https://neeness.com/why-do-baby-rabbits-die-suddenly/.

 

My Relationship with Reading and Writing

By Isabel Azarcon

 

I despise reading and writing. Well, maybe “despise” is the wrong word. Too strong. Dislike? Sounds flat and uninspired. See, this is one of the problems I face as a student in an English class. Everything has to mean something and I can neither understand that something nor write it into my essays.

 

I suppose the seeds of my discontent were sown in my childhood, when my father would often read to my brother and me. Like the sunset, reading time never failed to be. As a spotlight golden rays of waning sun illuminated my father and his chair, we gathered around the kitchen table to listen as he read tales such as Moby Dick or Robinson Crusoe. Every few minutes, my mind would wander elsewhere, wondering about the snacks in the pantry, the rice in its large, rectangular container. A sudden sharp question would pierce through the air, chasing away the clouds in my head- my father asking me to summarize what he had read. Of course, many times, I would be lost and he would snarl, “pay attention,” the disappointment resounding in his voice, the shame resounding in my head.

My father was the feared disciplinarian in my house. He ordered my brother and I to read thirty minutes of fiction and thirty minutes of nonfiction a day. He firmly denounced our fascination with TV programs and computer games, very much to my brother’s chagrin. I recall my ardent love of the Geronimo Stilton series, riddled with unusual fonts and vivid colors. To no surprise, when I would tell my father of the hour that I had read a Geronimo Stilton book, he would reprimand me for not reading a higher level book and not completing the thirty minutes of nonfiction book reading.

On another occasion, as a member of MENSA, I was forced by my father to memorize the poem, “No Man is an Island.” I completed the task with much satisfaction, yet I could not comprehend why that exercise was in any way significant. I mean, I extrapolated some basic meaning between the lines of the poem, but it was simply another means for academic enrichment that the household authoritarian wanted for me.

Possibly as some result of all of that academic enrichment, I had become somewhat of a decent writer by my adolescence. In fifth grade, I remember seeing my English teacher display some essay about a video on belonging for the class. Each student was handed out a copy of the same essay, which seemed strangely familiar. Once my copy was passed to me, the teacher gave me a warm smile, almost imperceptible to the other students around me. Joy emanated from my being, as to my sheer excitement, she had passed out my essay. 

Nothing could compare to that delicate, temporary feeling of pride. Fragile, like a porcelain doll. An illusion broken apart piece by piece.

 

Filled with the exhilarating rush of self-esteem, I suddenly found myself mired in the details of writing. Every paragraph, sentence, word had to be perfect- all fitting together according to my agenda. The gears and cogs of my mind would churn and churn, only to produce one single paragraph. And steam would pour out of my ears.

It was work. Just like the academic enrichment of my childhood. A means to get me to fit the cookie-cutter mold of a good student, of my parents’ expectations.

 

I soon discovered thousands of videos on Youtube and other platforms. The current from endless streams of content pulled me far from the burden that was reading and writing. During stressful times, I turned to a screen and a regular cast of characters whose sonorous voices felt so real to me. More real than a flat, white, word-speckled assigned reading packet with writing prompts ever seemed to me.

These videos and shows were like a drug, a euphoria-inducing addiction that has never ceased.

 

Still, I may choose to return to my once-held passion of reading- outside of school assignments, of course. I recognize that the desire to read and read well should be my choice, not some way to impress others. Reading is for my enjoyment, my satisfaction, and not anyone else’s. And writing is the same way. I hope to find enjoyment in crafting sentences too.

And someday my love for reading and writing shall be re-established. Resumed. Renewed? 

You get the picture.