Category: Junior Literary

CW: Depression and Suicide

Last month I wrote a post about an episode of Doctor Who that changed my outlook on life and moved me like no other. (Which you can read here.) In it, I mentioned that the monster in the episode was its weakest point and glossed over it, but after re-watching the episode again, I noticed that the monster was actually a pretty obvious metaphor for depression and mental illness, and I feel really stupid for completely overlooking it. The Krafayis is the main antagonist of the episode, which is a lone, blind alien that was left behind by its kind on earth after it got lost. The Krafayan race is extremely cruel and violent, and it is revealed later on that the alien was actually blind. The thing about the Krafayis is that only Vincent can see it, and he’s treated like a madman because of this. I think you can see where I’m going.

Unlike other disabilities, mental illness can very well go unseen by others, and it can seem like a lonely and extremely difficult fight by those suffering. The Krafaysis represents Vincent’s fight with depression and suicidal thoughts and how people can assume that those who have these disorders are just either faking for attention or simply insane, especially during the time period the episode takes place in. Even when The Doctor and Amy come to help, they still can’t see the monster, even if they have good intentions. This represents that even friends and those who help support mentally ill people can try their best, but no matter how hard they try, they still won’t be able to fully understand what goes on in their head. I guess me not realizing the symbolism of the Krafaysis just shows how clever the metaphor really was. Even the audience has the ability to overlook the signs of mental illness. 

This episode will always stay in my memory as one of the most impactful episodes of Doctor Who for the rest of my life. It holds a special place in my heart, and this detail I missed just makes me love it even more. I miss these stories in the show, and I hope the writers for the new seasons will be able to bring back the charm the older episodes of the show had. And if you’re fighting your own Krafayis, I promise there will be those there to help you, even if you think they may never understand.

for a girl who grew up watching nascar with her older brother, it really shouldn’t have been a surprise when my 2nd grade teacher told us the story of “the tortoise and the hare.” it outlined what seemed to be a fair race, not favoring one contestant over the other, but later proved to be a story about individuality and motivation. at least, that’s as deep as a 7 year old’s philosophy could pull. 

we read the book, and we split our notebook paper in half to take notes on the elements of the story we read. i raced through the assignment, then went on about my day as usual. my friends studied for their friday test, while i sat back doodling on notebook cover. i had already done well on every other test in her class, so why should the next one be any different?

i breezed through the test, and in true ironic fashion, aced it like i’d aced every test before it.

this cycle continued on through the entirety of middle school and freshman year, the pattern of not studying because i didn’t need to, then passing the test anyways. i never developed a clear study routine, or even study schedule. for the better half of elementary school, i skipped regular classes to attend the gifted kid class, where we played chess and solved real-world problems.

i had been told my entire life that i was a “gifted kid,” that i had a knack for test-taking and work completion, that my parents read books with me as a child, that my brain naturally retained information easier, that my adaptability skills were impeccable. 

education was a race, and my fellow gifted kids and i were well aware of our natural speed compared to our peers. we were running this race like it was nothing.

in 10th grade, my depression struck. my motivation to wake up in the morning began to dwindle, and everything felt like a chore. i had no friends, i had no one to turn to in my family, and i had no sense of security. i started to feel like the hare when he took his break toward the middle of the race – except i wasn’t resting, i was just working on autopilot.

so as we were ahead, the other hares and i were slowly being caught up to by the tortoises. of course, once they surpassed us, we had no one to blame but ourselves; we knew we had an advantage, we used it, and it came crashing down. that’s our fault.

what wasn’t our fault, however, was that we were plucked from god’s green earth, dropped into a track, and said, “you have an advantage, you do not; race against each other.”

the system that standardizes our goals are truly at fault, because it provides a false accountability model for educators and learners alike. students with learning disorders or disabilities (diagnosed or not) and students who excel far past the average are held to the same standard. the result? hares who burn themselves out halfway through the race, and tortoises who barely pass the finish line. 

2021 is finally here. Last year left us with many battle wounds and injuries, but somehow luckily we survived. Now that the next chapter of so many of our lives is here, it is up to us to make the most of it. Pandemic and all.

Here are three key ways to maximize your life in 2021!

• Start A Journal

My journey with journaling began when I started my literary classes at MSA. (Thanks Mrs. Sibley) Before MSA, I never really felt comfortable journaling, the thought of someone opening a book of mine holding what could possibly be my deepest and darkest secrets terrified me. Now, of course, journaling has become second nature for me. The benefits of journaling definitely outweigh the irrational fear of the exposure of my secrets. Journaling helps me to remember specific things about my life that I would usually easily forget about. I literally can barely remember what I eat for breakfast, but if I journal about it, I am sure to remember. I also tend to use journaling as  a venting outlet. Things that I’m not too comfortable to share with anyone else, I share with my “trusty composition book”. (That’s what I used to call my middle school journal our teacher made us keep!) Definitely invest in a journal this year to document the realest moments of your life.

• Rid Yourself of Toxicity

Being toxic seemed to be a weird trend of last year. You would think with everything going on, that would be the last thing people would want to do, but nope we were sadly mistaken. This year anyone who is not benefiting you, helping you grow, or just don’t seem genuine, listen…I NEED YOU TO DROP THEM LIKE A HOT BOWL OF GRITS YOU GRABBED WITH YOUR BARE HANDS!! We will not take less than what we are worth this year. We will not lower the bar nor shall we settle. Rid of the negative energy and move onto better things, sweetie. You got this, I see you!

• Become The Best Version of You

Last year may have led to lots of self discovery while being quarantined. You may have learned you have more pet peeves than you firstly believed or you may have finally taken up a hobby you had been procrastinating. I feel as if everyone discovered something new about themselves last year. I mean how could you not? You are talented and unique. The world needs to get more of whatever it is you have to offer it. You may not be able to become perfect but at least you can become complete. 

WE DID IT JOE, WE SURVIVED THE YEAR THAT SHALL NOT BE NAMED!! Give yourself a round of applause for completing a year that wasn’t so kind to most. Congratulations on surviving and conquering. We may not have gotten the celebration we deserved, but we got an opportunity to do better. Please don’t take making it to 2021 for granted, take this year to better yourself, please. I believe in you. You got this friend!!!

Reporting Live from the Trauma of Yesteryear,

A REAL HOT GIRL (AH)

TW: medical problems

So, you’d think after dealing with a deadly virus that my troubles would be over?  Nope!  As the universe decided to make this year just that much worse, I’ve been having severe abdominal pain for days.  So bad I didn’t want to eat much and couldn’t sleep.  So at first I was just thinking I ate something bad and should be better in a day or two.  Yeah, that didn’t happen.  Honestly my parents were unconcerned and told me to take some laxatives.   But of course that didn’t work because that would be too easy.  My mom finally got me an appointment with a doctor who thought I probably had appendicitis, which was something I was considering too.  I got the order to do bloodwork at the hospital and a CT scan with contrast.  Before I left they tested my urine to make sure it wasn’t just a stray bladder infection, and yeah that wasn’t it either.

So after struggling to get to the hospital as the normal entrance is not marked so I had to take the emergency entrance, I somehow managed to get myself there but bad luck seemed to follow me.  I had misplaced my sunglasses, the car wasn’t in the lines so I had to get back in the car and fix it, all in excruciating pain, then on my way into the hospital the ground sank beneath my white shoe coating it in mud.  When I finally found my mom at the hospital they were having trouble with the order because it was on paper and not digital.  When I finally got back to have my blood drawn the lady couldn’t find my vein in my elbow crease and asked if she could use my wrist, well I didn’t know that would be so much more painful so I said yes.  Also they had just gotten new needles and didn’t know how to work them so I was basically an unpaid geaniepig.  Not only did it hurt for her to try to find the vein, while they were drawing my blood I got pretty light headed.  Luckily they were nice and put a damp paper towel on my forehead and gave me some juice.  The fact I got lightheaded may sound wimpy but I am scared of needles and taking all that blood from a small vein was not the most pleasant experience.

While I was drinking my juice this older man comes in holding two big cups of some liquid.  He gives them to me and tells me to drink one now and one at six, it was contrast.  It taste like water he said (it did not taste like water).  It was so revolting it made me incredibly nauseous, with already having severe stomach pain, this didn’t help and I was honestly trying not to throw it back up.  I guess bodies don’t like drinking chemicals, who knew.  I had my mom bring my school stuff, but I was in to much pain to even think about doing it. When the guy finally comes back I was so ready to get this over with, I had been at the hospital for over 2 hours, and it seemed everyone else had pretty much all gone home.   He took me back to the room and had to insert a plastic IV, problem was he couldn’t get my freaking arm vein, so this fool goes threw my hand!  That crap hurt so bad.  I got in the machine and the first part went well, then he started putting the contrast in through the IV in my hand, the pain was practically unbearable it burned so bad; it legit felt like my hand was on fire.  I started crying and honestly screamed a little but the dude didn’t really seem to care how much he was hurting me and just continued like he enjoyed torturing me.  Then had the nerve to ask me after the scan when I was shaking and crying if I was ok.  Like no dude I came here to get better and am leaving with severely more pain than I started with. 

Apparently I breathed at “the wrong time” and so they couldn’t see the appendix but could see no other signs anything was wrong with it.  The only thing strange was a large mass blocking my colon, fun.  It wasn’t just like a little constipation though it was like actually causing it to dilate in size and stretch, which it doesn’t like too much.  The big question for me then was, I already took laxatives, and it didn’t work so, what now?  The answer: more laxatives, and that was pretty much my only option.   No matter how much I take, I still feel awful. I really don’t know what else to do.

PS: I am now back at school and am feeling a lot better.  I wish I could say I learned something from this experience, but the only thing I really learned is how to be forced to do work while feeling as though my internal organs were going to explode.  So I guess the takeaway is to push through the pain, it is temporary and you can get through it. 

     In December 2020, beloved musician Harry Styles was photographed for the cover of Vogue wearing a frothy, lace-trimmed dress.

     This sparked both admiration and outrage on social media; many celebrated his rejection of gender norms, but some expressed excessive concern with the piece of fabric that covered the body of someone they do not know. One of his most vocal critics was Candace Owens, a conservative commentator and writer, took to twitter to say, “There is no society that can survive without strong men. The East knows this. In the west, the steady feminization of our men at the same time that Marxism is being taught to our children is not a coincidence. It is an outright attack. Bring back manly men.” In a follow-up tweet, she expanded, “Since I’m trending I’d like to clarify what I meant when I said ‘bring back manly men.’ I meant: Bring back manly men. Terms like toxic masculinity,’ were created by toxic females. Real women don’t do fake feminism. Sorry I’m not sorry.” In response, Harry Styles took to Instagram a few weeks later to caption a photo of himself wearing a baby blue suit and eating a banana: “Bring back manly men.”

     With these statements, Owens perpetuated the common, misinformed, outdated ideology that wearing garments presently associated with women lowers a man’s value to society. Though she takes the opportunity to take a jab at “females” (an…interesting term to refer to women who do not agree with her, to say the least) and diminish the existence of toxic masculinity, it is she who is placing men inside the box of stereotypes and restrictive expression. It seems that many people have been defining Harry Styles’ choice of fashion based on their own preference and attractive towards men without acknowledging that his existence has no relation to that, but hey, what is the internet without people bringing everything back to themselves?

    The only thing that makes a man is his own self. If someone considers himself a man, then he is. Regardless of the way he chooses to present himself. Regardless of the clothes he wears. Regardless of the makeup he may choose to put on. Regardless of his profession. Regardless of his hobbies. Regardless of his stance on social issues. Regardless of his other identities. A man is a man, because he defines himself as such, and nobody, not even other men, has the right to strip him of that title.

     This time last year, I sat in my room, blaring music and staring at the notes app on my phone trying to come up with ideas for my literary portfolio. I had dreamed of coming to Mississippi School of the Arts since I was thirteen; now, applications were open, and everything became much more real. All of the stories I had fantasized about wowing my future teachers with suddenly vanished, leaving me worriedly staring at a blank page. I thought to myself, “What am I even doing? I could never write something good enough to propel me into a fine arts school.”

     Almost twelve months have flown by since I first began my application to MSA, and I could not be happier with where I am. Though it feels surreal, the next class of students are exactly where I was. This blog is advice for the hopefuls working on their applications, specifically literaries, but much of this can be applied to all discipline auditions. 

     First things first: STOP SIKING YOURSELF OUT. The biggest killer of applicants is students convincing themselves their art is not worthy. You are playing yourself! Have confidence in yourself and your abilities, and understand the value of your art. Nobody is looking for perfection from applicants, just potential. Let your creativity and skill shine, and don’t get bogged down in trying to make every little detail the work of gods. It is wonderful to have standards and expectations for yourself, but please, don’t hurt yourself trying to revise, revise, revise every little thing you have to do; you will inevitably experience burnout, and that is the last thing you want. I am begging you, do not cheat yourself out of this opportunity because your inner critic has convinced you that you will not get in. Just give it a shot, or you’ll kick yourself for the rest of your life about it. Don’t wonder what could have been–find out.

     Secondly, do not stress yourself out about the audition, especially the interview portion. I remember anxiously waiting for my name to be called for the interview with the faculty; I got so nervous I forgot what classes I was enrolled in. I promise, you are not going to be interrogated about the great works of your favorite artists, and you are not going to be expected to be anything but yourself. They know you’re nervous, they understand, and they are not going to think any less of you as a student, artist, or person if you stumble over your words, or blank on a question. The questions are just to get a gauge of your study/living habits, conflict resolution skills, and things of that nature to help them decide if MSA is a good fit for you.

     I only auditioned for literary, so I cannot give much insight as to how the on-site auditions for other disciplines are going to go. For literary, we were given a prompt and given a certain amount of time to write about it. Though it may be presented to you in a way that makes you think you have to use a certain style of writing, you are actually not limited. You could write a creative nonfiction piece, a narrative poem, ANYTHING as long as it fits the prompt. This does not make or break your literary application, so if you leave that audition not feeling like it was your best work, do not beat yourself up about it. Try to relax as much as you can, and remember: if you were invited to audition, it means they see something in your work. You. Are. A. Talented. Writer. They would not let you get this far into the process if that was not true.

      If you have any questions, or you’re still feeling worried, reach out to someone at MSA. Our admissions recruiter, Brianna Moore, would love to tell you about our school; you can get in contact with her at admissions@msabrookhaven.org or by calling her office number  601-823-1309! This page will have much of the information you need to apply to MSA, but feel free to explore the rest of the website to get a better understanding of the school:  https://www.msabrookhaven.org/admission/apply-to-msa/ Also, you can always reach out to present students; you can find the majority of us who contribute to the school’s public blogs on social media by searching our names. Please, don’t feel embarrassed about messaging us! Even if we do not know you personally, we are happy to help in any way that we can. Class of 2023: Your applications are due by February 1st, 2021! Remember to have confidence in your work and recognize your value as an artist. Good luck, and I  hope to see you soon!

This blog probably won’t have much substance, like, at all, but some memories from my childhood have been on my mind for a while now and I wanted to talk about them. I’m sure everyone my age had at least one happy meal as a kid. The red box with yellow handles was like a treasure chest to hungry kids. The boxes used to look a lot less terrifying back then before McDonald’s turned the boxes into mascots; they were actually pretty cute. When you’d open the box and the warmth of the fresh food would hit your face, there would also always be a special gem, though – the toy.

When I was a kid, and a kid in Mississippi no less, McDonald’s always asked when you ordered your happy meal in the drive-through if you wanted a “boy’s toy” or a “girl’s toy,” and if you ordered in the restaurant, they’d simply give you the toy that was designated to the gender you appeared as. As a really young child, I had no issues with this. I remember wanting to collect all of the brushable hair My Little Ponies, and they’re probably still stashed away somewhere in my grandmother’s house. However, as I grew older, I always thought the “boys’ toys” were much cooler, and as a kid who was really into “boy” shows, being a girl at McDonald’s kinda sucked. I can remember tons of days of disappointment when I’d see a Pokémon, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, or Transformers toy, all franchises I was really into, but get a La La Loopsie or Justice toy because I was a girl. 

I remember I would ask to get happy meals in the drive-through specifically so they’d start asking which one I wanted, and I would tell my parents or grandparents that I wanted a “boy’s” toy.” If I was with my parents, they’d comply, but I would always slump down in my car seat out of embarrassment so the workers couldn’t see me. Some of my grandparents would always tell the workers the meal was for a girl no matter what I said, and while I’ll probably never know why they did that, I could bet it was based on a fear of me being “weird” or not fitting gender norms when I was older. Who knows? I just know I hated it.

I haven’t ordered a happy meal in a long time, but I remember the last time I did they simply asked what franchise I wanted a toy from. I hope that’s how they do it now, and if it is, I’m glad kids will be able to get the toy they want, regardless of gender. 

It is no secret 2020 will be a memorable year. It has been filled with new experiences and firsts for everyone. No one thought we would have a pandemic or that we would still be in one heading into the new year. But, we are. Though 2020 may not have been the best year, there have been some upsides to it.

The next time I write a blog, it will be 2021. My school year will be halfway through and I would have changed classes for the next semester. Now, is  not time to dwell on the horrors of 2020, but we should reflect on the goods of it.

Personally,2020 hasn’t been the worst year for me. Believe it or not, I’ve experienced worse. (Minus the global pandemic, of course) This year has been filled with personal growth and opportunity. I refuse to take what this year has taught me for granted. Though things may not have happened as normally as I might have wished, they happened. And that is something to be hella proud of.

You’re doing so much all in the midst of such an unfamiliar time. Though you may not have accomplished everything you had planned, or didn’t do exactly what you wanted, you’re doing so good. You’re literally doing the best you can given the circumstances.

Don’t let this year be listed as one of your worse because it’s unfamiliar and different. Let this year be remembered as one the wildest years that proved your overall strength and effort. You’re completing so much that most can only dream of during this time.

I’m proud of you.

I’m proud you get a chance to see another day in the new year. Most didn’t get that chance. I can’t wait to see how you brighten up 2021.

With open heart and new beginnings,

2020 Noelle