Collected Item: “Old to New Shoes”
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Old to New Shoes
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Shoes
Tell us a story; share your experience. Describe what the object or story you've uploaded says about the pandemic, and/or why what you've submitted is important to you.
During quarantine, my leadership class had a little game of Secret Santa. My Secret Santa had given me a pair of pristine white shoes--a gift that I had desired, for all my previous footwear were hand-me-downs. They were untouched the whole time I stayed home, online on Zoom; however, when the opportunity to jump back into school arose, the chance to wear my shoes out came.
Hybrid learning had me walking, talking, physically moving, doing things that quarantine restricted me from doing. I was active in PE, I had labs in my physics class--life was more lively than Zoom. Coming out to physical school had a toll on me and my shoes, but it barely scrapped the surface. Hybrid, undoubtedly, was still nothing in comparison to a full day, completely in person school day.
When the next school year rolled about, my shoes and my mental health had a brutal beating. After enjoying a half school day, online in the comfort of my own bedroom, I was thrown into a full six hour school day, complete with after school extracurricular and the chance to tackle more than just two AP classes. My leadership class desired attention are every stinking moment, and my Academic Decathlon team needed constant investment to even consider making it to the state competition again. I had to catch up on specific clubs that I previously slacked off on, and I traveled miles and miles away from my hometown to give up my weekends volunteering.
While I had been investing all my time into my extracurriculars, my grades began to slip. I began to slip. As became Cs and compliments on my report cards turned into grade check warnings from scholarship programs. Not everyone was struggling as much as I was. Not everyone required these improvement check in and not everyone felt this panic rushing to their head. Constant strains cracked relationships I had and I couldn't help but feel this hopeless emotion. I felt so inferior.
My white shoes, now grey, muddled, no longer pristine, endured every step I took and traveled with me every day. These were the first shoes I owned, and this was the first year I had felt so lost.
With my personality, I did not enjoy showing weakness. Rather, I put up a bold front, smile wide, eyes glistening and my voice cracking with emotion. All while I had been suffocating under this pressure, on the outside, I was still working and completing my tasks in a fine manner. Like my shoes, they had structure and worked fine; the holes at the soles of my feet began ripping out but unbeknownst to others.
Break began. The bottom of my shoes were tattered at that point. Wearing these shoes everyday, in and out of my house, doing jobs that I was obliged to do, TORE them apart. It was only a matter of time before people had found out. After a day at school, I would peel off the sock from my foot, and witness a black spot where the hole of my shoes would align with. I, along with my shoe, felt complete misery.
Thought break, however, I had a change in mindset. I finally had the time to rest. I finally had the time to hydrate, to eat, to think. I manifested changes and thought about what I needed to do to change. Pacing, and even a new beginning was what I required.
Here in this picture is the new shoes I had bought, November 26, 2021. These shoes are my new beginning and I will walk into school the following school day with a new mindset. Maybe in these weeks, I will struggle and resist the temptation to ask for help. Thanksgiving Break did alter my perspective though and I will not lose to this pandemic.
Hybrid learning had me walking, talking, physically moving, doing things that quarantine restricted me from doing. I was active in PE, I had labs in my physics class--life was more lively than Zoom. Coming out to physical school had a toll on me and my shoes, but it barely scrapped the surface. Hybrid, undoubtedly, was still nothing in comparison to a full day, completely in person school day.
When the next school year rolled about, my shoes and my mental health had a brutal beating. After enjoying a half school day, online in the comfort of my own bedroom, I was thrown into a full six hour school day, complete with after school extracurricular and the chance to tackle more than just two AP classes. My leadership class desired attention are every stinking moment, and my Academic Decathlon team needed constant investment to even consider making it to the state competition again. I had to catch up on specific clubs that I previously slacked off on, and I traveled miles and miles away from my hometown to give up my weekends volunteering.
While I had been investing all my time into my extracurriculars, my grades began to slip. I began to slip. As became Cs and compliments on my report cards turned into grade check warnings from scholarship programs. Not everyone was struggling as much as I was. Not everyone required these improvement check in and not everyone felt this panic rushing to their head. Constant strains cracked relationships I had and I couldn't help but feel this hopeless emotion. I felt so inferior.
My white shoes, now grey, muddled, no longer pristine, endured every step I took and traveled with me every day. These were the first shoes I owned, and this was the first year I had felt so lost.
With my personality, I did not enjoy showing weakness. Rather, I put up a bold front, smile wide, eyes glistening and my voice cracking with emotion. All while I had been suffocating under this pressure, on the outside, I was still working and completing my tasks in a fine manner. Like my shoes, they had structure and worked fine; the holes at the soles of my feet began ripping out but unbeknownst to others.
Break began. The bottom of my shoes were tattered at that point. Wearing these shoes everyday, in and out of my house, doing jobs that I was obliged to do, TORE them apart. It was only a matter of time before people had found out. After a day at school, I would peel off the sock from my foot, and witness a black spot where the hole of my shoes would align with. I, along with my shoe, felt complete misery.
Thought break, however, I had a change in mindset. I finally had the time to rest. I finally had the time to hydrate, to eat, to think. I manifested changes and thought about what I needed to do to change. Pacing, and even a new beginning was what I required.
Here in this picture is the new shoes I had bought, November 26, 2021. These shoes are my new beginning and I will walk into school the following school day with a new mindset. Maybe in these weeks, I will struggle and resist the temptation to ask for help. Thanksgiving Break did alter my perspective though and I will not lose to this pandemic.
Use one-word hashtags (separated by commas) to describe your story. For example: Where did it originate? How does this object make you feel? How does this object relate to the pandemic?
#APUSH, #GardenGroveHighSchool, #shoes
Who originally created this object? (If you created this object, such as photo, then put "self" here.)
Lunar Nguyen
Give this story a date.
2021-11-26