As a collection, "Popsicles" is the description of the tangy, growing-up phase that awkwardly illustrates the contemporary teen. I approached the collection through the lens of how I view my childhood from the place I currently stand. "Popsicles" encapsulates the process of growing up as not becoming more than who we initially were, but instead as chiseling out who we are today from all that we consume around us, letting the rest melt away. This melting, this growing, and this change all morph into the bittersweet elegy that is “Fruit Juice Tears” which is the thesis statement for this work. From there, it made sense to write "Backyardia” as a tale of endless nostalgia told from the voice of my younger self. The final piece, “Shotgun” serves to juxtapose the previous work. It is written from my present self to my older sister. The work proposes a simple question. What happened to us? This question guided my process of creating the collection. Speaking from the heart, "Popsicles" is a giant, messy hug from ourselves where we stand to the children we once were. It is meant to be read aloud like a children's picture book and recited aloud and free, like Pop music on the radio.

Chicka is a children’s story about a baby bird who is scared to try new things - especially flying. She isn’t afraid of heights, but she is afraid of failing and being judged by her siblings, who easily fly, chirp, and help out around the nest. Chicka finally realizes that her siblings didn’t do any of these tasks with ease. In fact, before they became good at those things, they failed… a lot. The only difference was, they loved the challenge of trying over and over again. The story ends with Chicka finally trying to fly… and failing… and trying again. Growing up, I have always been driven to succeed. But sometimes that drive has kept me from taking on challenges because I didn’t want to fail or look stupid. Chicka’s story is my story. Not only does my mom call me “Chicka,” but the story was inspired by my experience learning to drive. I was never scared of driving, but rather I feared the judgment from my peers if I failed the written test on my first attempt. I put off taking the test for nearly two years. When I finally took it… I failed. But I also learned something very valuable. It wasn’t a big deal. In that moment, I finally understood how failure is an important part of the journey to success. I wrote Chicka’s story because I want little kids to understand this important life lesson that failing is essential for growth.

I wrote this piece in celebration of my struggle with personal hygiene and the mundane, but trying, battle of teaching myself “uncomfortable” skills. As much as sex ed classes can verbally instruct kids on how to have safe sex or science teachers can describe the process of menstruation, there’s no amount of talking that can take the place of physical experience, demonstration, imitation. I didn’t actually know what deodorant was until freshman year. Vaguely, I saw girls pull out bottles and tubes in the locker room, but nobody was excited to be seen with a stick of deodorant to their armpits. Combined with my mom’s complete lack of deodorant, I had to go on that journey to understanding alone. It was embarrassing at times as I’m sure every teenager has experienced, whether it be with deodorant, periods, shaving (I’ve still not learned how to use a razor). And it’s never our fault, but it can’t be our parents' faults either. It simply has to be up to us to learn from ourselves and each other, to reach that independence no matter how new it might be. My purpose with this piece was to take some of the shame away from that process, to instead make it something of pride, to tell everyone with their heads low over their first deodorant purchase that there’s nothing to be afraid of. Only an immense amount of strength and accomplishment awaits you on the other side.

I wrote this poem at 2am after nine hours of studying, staring at a screen endlessly and wishing more than anything that I could float away. I was exhausted and burnt out, missing the ocean so deeply that I decided to write it a love poem before going to sleep. I modeled "The Same Sea" in the physical shape of a wave, mirroring how the sea has seen me and every other person on earth in every stage of their lives. It is more ancient than anything on Earth, a constant cycle of old waters. I believe that water has memory along with peace and power, but it does not reveal its many secrets at a surface level glance. I concealed a second poem within the larger one in the form of bold words to convey the nature of the ocean: the true essence of its being and history is always below the surface.

"Sky Sisters" is a fictional short story about the sun, the moon, and the North Star; however, there's a twist: they are all sisters. Our view of these beings are very black-and-white in that half of us believe that it is science that makes the sun and the moon cycle across the sky everyday, while the other half believes that it is magic and the work of the gods. Instead of focusing on one of these halves, I decided to create an entirely different theory and gave these celestial beings names and sentience, allowing them to make their own backstory. While making my story, I wanted to keep most of the details realistic and somewhat factual, so I did some research beforehand about supernovas and the ages of the sun, the moon, and the North Star. To put it simply, this story is essentially the tragic backstory that answers the question of why the sun and the moon travel across the sky everyday. I had so much fun creating it, so I hope you enjoy reading it too!

Growing up as a lesbian in the religious Midwest, I faced the shame that my feelings had some inherent wrongness to them. I spent my adolescence fearing my developing identity. My unease dulled and erased many of the experiences I made then, which I’ve sought to recover in my writing. These works document my realization— years after the fact— that being in love is ordinary and human.

This summer was creatively interesting. Usually I don't write very much outside of my school arts program, but this year has been spent building up to writing a book and every experience I have has been filtered through a poetic lens. This collection has three poems. I wrote the first, "June," about how my summer felt compared to now, when I'm back in school. The third poem, "September" describes my experience with fall and how it's connected to wildfires, or at least the fear of wildfires. September is a busy month. June is not. I wrote the first act of "September" in 2022 and didn't finish it, and this year used it as a launchpad for the second act. The years I wrote them are in the names of the acts because they reflect different aspects of September across different times, and I felt it was important to show the gap between them. The second poem, "Gender Nonconforming," is a reflection on community and language failures of my existence outside of gender. It's bookended by "June" and "September" to place it in time.

The Trait I Get From My Grandmother showcases the generational trauma that can get passed down through generations. I wanted to share my grandmother´s experience of being forced to move away from the U.S during World War 2 because of her Japanese heritage. Now as someone living in the U.S I have recognized my privilege and have analyzed our two very different experiences. In the poem I note the similarities and how my family´s history has affected me. Water Under the Bridge is about my experience being a multi-ethnic person specifically a Chinese-Japanese person. It displays the inner conflict that can happen especially when one side of your family was part of the oppressors and the other side was part of the oppressed. The matter is complicated further when you have assimilated to a different country and don´t have good connections with either sides of your heritage.

My goal for this piece is to narrate the struggles my parents went through and how that correlates to my current life. My father is an immigrant from Mexico and my mother is a first generation Mexican-American. I wanted to paint a picture of my current life in the US as a girl living with two parents of Mexican descent. I aimed to highlight the differences in my life compared to the experiences of my parents and put a spin on the typical "American Dream" by describing my experience as a Mexican-American in this generation. This piece is a testament to my roots through the collision of two vastly different worlds coming together to create a beautiful blend of ideals, culture, and love.

To Inhabit Our Inheritance is a collection of three poems I wrote across time and space. These words drifted to me in minutes, hours, or days, and I crafted these pieces with the intent of translating my thoughts and experiences of living on this planet into personal art. Although two of the poems were written with an English class in mind, I aimed to develop authentic representations of a life very much attuned to nature and culture, with little revision. The collection begins with “coast creature,” a musing on the shoreline, both a border and a bridge. I wrote this on the Hawaiian island of Maui during the devastating wildfires in August, and the reality at the time may have prompted me to poetically preserve the island’s vibrancy. “Land of Vital Blood” is a poem I wrote for my current English class, and I wanted to express the broad and complex identity that is America. I refer to my own identity, being a person of color descended from immigrants. I composed “Our Garden Aflame” in my sophomore English class, getting the chance to perform it aloud since then. So much passion is embedded within, with hints of Napa Valley and its own history of wildfire. I like to imagine this piece illuminating the truths of climate change and the state of our society. Ultimately, with To Inhabit Our Inheritance, creativity called me to shape my perceptions of Earth and its human residents into words of candor, concern, and curiosity.

As I’ve gotten older and began to see the end of my high school years in the distance, I’ve found it impossible to ignore the concrete and abstract ideas of college and adulthood. It is a hard task to reconcile growing up with your responsibility and love for your family. I have three brothers, and I hope that even as our paths diverge, we remain close. This piece is speculative and attempts to address many of these themes and fears that have been occupying my mind.

I wrote this poem as a catharsis after asking out my first real crush in sophomore year and getting rejected. This poem is meant to chronicle our continuing relationship over the years and my love journey. It focuses especially on our shared passion: dancing, the activity where I discovered I had feelings for her. I admired her confidence and passion on stage and became inspired to become a better dancer myself. We started off as classmates, then friends over freshman year and eventually, I started liking her romantically. As I was one of the few guys in the dance program, we quickly bonded and found we had several things in common, such as humor, music, and especially dancing. As a ghazal-ish type piece, this poem details not only the rejection, but also the depth of my feelings for my crush. I wanted a canvas to express this novel experience for myself and poetry provided that outlet.

I wrote this poem during school as I watched all my fellow classmates staring at their phones, waiting for the bell to ring. I’ve thought a lot about how impactful access to social media is to my generation, and nearing the end of the poem, I also started to think about how this issue has broadened to the rest of the world. I wrote the end thinking about my late nights in bed when I would lay under my covers with my phone in the “rotate lock” position. I used to doom scroll because it was one of the only things that helped me destress. I began with the term “sometimes,” to illustrate how easy it is to get comfortable with these routines. And those times when the screen “goes dark” and loads for half a second, I see myself in the reflection of the screen, and I’m confronted with myself. This poem is about losing my sense of self.

This art was based off the idea of a moral struggle that takes the form of a police officer arresting a man he knows is innocent. I chose this specifically because of how much hangs on the police to do the right thing. We trust police to carry weapons that could kill someone with the push of a trigger and a pair of handcuffs that take away the freedom of any human being they rest upon.

The intense fixation on grades not only limits the focus on academic success but also severely impacts students' psychological health and identity formation. This grade obsession, often starting in the early years of high school, transforms education into a stressful competition, overshadowing the joy and purpose of learning. Students begin to equate their self-worth with their academic performance, leading to increased anxiety, depression, and a distorted self-image. This unhealthy emphasis on grades forces students to prioritize their GPA over other aspects of their development. Extracurricular activities, which play a crucial role in building leadership, artistic, and athletic skills, are frequently sidelined. This singular focus on academic achievement leaves students ill-prepared for real-world challenges where diverse skills and adaptability are key. Moreover, the obsession with achieving the highest grades stifles creativity and critical thinking, as students become more concerned with memorizing information for tests rather than understanding and applying knowledge. Educational systems must, therefore, recalibrate their approach to assessment and success. It's essential to cultivate an environment where learning is valued for its own sake and diverse talents are recognized. This involves integrating various assessment methods that appreciate different learning styles and abilities, fostering a more equitable and inclusive educational landscape. Ultimately, broadening the definition of success in education to encompass a range of skills and qualities is essential in preparing students for both academic and real-life success, encouraging them to take pride in their achievements beyond the confines of a grade.

Biophilia is humanity's innate attraction to nature and the wild. However, as we in Western society have distanced ourselves from the wisdom of undeveloped wilderness, we have forfeited much of our connection to the wider world. Yet, just one moment between brothers is enough to revivify a dormant awareness and tender affection for the natural environment.

The poem I wrote is about human nature on and in the internet, through bees and the setting as an extended metaphor. The first stanza is about the immortalizing effect of a photograph, likened to a pinned bug(bee) in a collection, and how it can be seen and twisted and paraded about for anyone’s gain. One could also infer extortion from the paragraph, and obsession with gratification that could come from attention. The second stanza is more about the overwhelming and infinitely sized forums of mass social media platforms, where it’s hard to find “water,” as in genuine and kind places. There’s an almost cursed nostalgia for the water, the past, which may or may not have existed. I’m a huge fan of open interpretation, though. What I wrote doesn’t have to be set in stone, and that’s something that I love about poetry - the fluidity. Please infer anything.

I had a particularly awful week leading to finals week, and realised that there is something incredibly wrong, when I can't feel for a fellow student, but cry over a moth.

As I crafted the story of Soc Trang, my aim was to unravel the intricacies of a city where cultures converge, creating a vibrant tapestry that transcends time. Through vivid descriptions and immersive storytelling, I aimed to transport readers into the heart of Soc Trang, allowing them to experience its rich heritage, festivals, and the warmth of its people.By intertwining historical landmarks, cultural practices, and modern developments, I endeavored to capture the essence of a city that cherishes its traditions while embracing progress. My narrative seeks to celebrate the beauty of diversity, inviting readers to explore Soc Trang's unique charm and the stories embedded within its streets.Through this piece, I aspire to evoke a sense of wonder and appreciation for the cultural mosaic that defines Soc Trang, inviting readers to embark on a journey that transcends geographical boundaries and spans across generations.

Three poems are included, with the first poem "WHEN I AM DEAD" dedicated to my immigrant mother who always read me bedtime stories in her broken English growing up. I wanted to highlight the irony of how I have become a poet, whose world revolves around language and my only way of conveying my sincerity can not be understood by my own mother. I also wanted to highlight the seemingly never-ending barriers that come in between the mother and daughter relationships. "WITH THE LOVERS" speaks to the idea of wanting to be desired to be seen as a "proper woman" and going by all means to achieve that. The last poem, "YOU ARE GOOD CHILD" illustrates how young women and daughters of traditional households are expected to assume maternal roles, excel at everything, and work tirelessly for the benefit of the family without complaining. The poems dance around the topic of conformity in traditional households and the societal expectations on women.