Hi, everyone! Happy August. I hope you enjoy this essay I wrote about hiking and leadership. Stay safe and please reach out if you need emotional support. I am here for you. <3 I am twelve and hiking the White Mountains. Sweat slips down my forehead and my polyester shirt is heavy against my skin. My backpack straps burn my waist and my shoes thud against the stone ground. Yet, I am alright. Although I am last in line among the ten campers in our group, two of my counselors have stayed beside me. With their belief in me, positive spirits, and knowledge, I know I will be okay.
That hiking trip, although physically and emotionally exhausting, was one of the best summer camp activities I was privileged to experience. The week before the trip, the counselors had taken us on numerous day hikes and facilitated multiple team-building exercises. We visited Wachusett and the Fells. We played games that forced us to work together to solve mysteries. By the time we left for the White Mountains, we were all prepared. Using my counselors as examples, I understood that the best leaders are those who trust and inspire their followers and guide them with knowledge. Trust is a huge part of leadership. If during the hike, my counselors told me I was not going to make it to the next resting point or that because of my small height, they were already predicting I would slow them down, they would have lost my respect for them and hindered the group dynamics. Fortunately, my leaders learned to trust and believe in me and, throughout our trip, they assured me that I would complete the expedition. The fact we had a week before our journey to bond emphasizes the importance of leaders putting aside time to build trust with their followers. During that week, my counselors discovered my love of reading, so when we arrived at the White Mountains, they told stories about red balls, William Tell, and Zorro in order to comfort me during our trek. I felt cared for by them and in turn, I trusted my counselors. When I became an art camp counselor at fifteen-years-old, I used the lessons I attained on that hiking trip about trust to guide me. At my first lunch recess, I gazed at the kids running around everywhere. My heartbeat quickened and I fiddled with my red lanyard. The campers were moving too fast. Fearful, I did not even allow some of the kids to skip. This, naturally, upset them. Eventually, as I connected with the children and recognized their intelligence, I realized that I could find a balance between trusting the campers to jog safely and maintaining they are not running. That way, the children felt trusted and more willing to bond and talk with me, but I still could watch out for their security. Leaders must also motivate their followers if any tasks are to be completed. In my senior year, as a co-founder of my high school’s Asian American Club, I was constantly testing what activities inspired participation. I learned very early on that most people in the club found group discussions to be disengaging, but events like potlucks and card game tournaments to be entertaining. By taking the time to discover what aroused motivation, planning activities became much easier and members became more likely to participate. Additionally, through my experience as a club leader, I observed how confidence is necessary to inspire followers. During the first Asian American Club meeting, I remember standing off to the side of the room filled with students with my hands shaking and my voice trembling. It was a Friday afternoon following a long week of school and I was worried that everything I had planned would crumble. Sure enough, with my very visible nerves, I had a difficult time motivating members to participate in the group discussion. Yet, a few weeks later, after I had time to feel more comfortable in my role, I was able to stand in the front of the classroom and with a clear voice, lead a successful trivia game. The club’s member engagement only blossomed from that moment. We went from no one wanting to participate to everyone laughing and babbling each meeting. In reaction to my confidence and my time figuring out my members’ interests, the club’s motivation became strong. If not for my counselors’ knowledge, I would never have gotten off the White Mountains. I watched them lead the way for us gaggle of preadolescents. As we slipped down wet rocks, they provided us with tips to safely descend. When rain lashed against our jackets and filled streams to the brim, the counselors knew the best ways to jump across the water unscathed. While the counselors, of course, carried and consulted a map, they also had years of personal experience on the trail to advance their knowledge. Their knowledge was the foundation for their other leadership qualities. Their wisdom spurred my willingness to trust them and my motivation to keep going even when the path seemed difficult. Without being informed, they would not have had the confidence to inspire us to continue. Even simple facts they knew like the scientific names of trees and salamanders gave me faith in their abilities. It is no surprise then that I think of my counselors when I need examples of strong leaders. In my own leadership positions, whether as a camp counselor or a club leader, I try to exert that same aura of trust, inspiration, and knowledge. Before entering a club meeting, I make sure I have a plan and a backup plan. To prepare for being a camp counselor, I confirm that I am well-versed in the camp’s protocols. After all, whose faith could I gain and who could I motivate if I know nothing? Thanks to my hiking counselors, I now understand that what all the best leaders need is a sprinkle of trust to bond with their followers, inspiration to encourage their supporters, and, finally, knowledge to guide everyone.
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I used to think as a non-Black person that my only role was to read/listen to Black voices and like/retweet posts by Black people. I now realize that I was wrong and that by not using my own voice, I was letting fear win. I will always support/listen to Black voices because their voices matter the most in conversations about their communities, but I must also speak up, especially when police are murdering Black people like George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Atatiana Jefferson, and too many more. Black lives matter all the time.
Don't praise me for posting this message. Instead, support/listen to Black voices and speak up when needed. Here's a very non-exhaustive list of things that I and other non-Black people can do to support the Black community on a regular basis: ~Recognize our own shortcomings in being antiracist and avoid asking/expecting Black people to provide free emotional labor. Instead, on our own or with the help of non-Black friends, research and figure out ways to do better. It's never too late to prove we can do better. (I personally need to read more non-fiction books by Black people and remember to speak up when I see racism, even if it's not overt racism). ~Support organizations led by/heavily involving Black people that work toward justice like Black Lives Matter and TGIJP. ~Read non-fiction books by Black people about racism including, but not limited to Stamped and The New Jim Crow. Additionally, read books by Black people in other genres that further humanize Black people and their experiences. The Black community is very diverse and intersects with lots of other communities. Everyone has their own beliefs and stories to tell. ~Recognize that if we're more upset about Black people being angry and less focused on what they're angry about, we need to re-examine our own perceptions. Supporting/listening to Black people should be the default. ~Don't just support Black people when they're sad/angry, but also support them when they're happy. ~Call out racism and anti-Blackness, even if it's not blatant racism. Little things can sometimes add up to a lot of negative stereotypes and harm. ~If someone calls out something we said/did, remember that impact often matters more than intent, that we're human and humans make mistakes, and that it's never too late to prove we can do better. PS. While this post is focused on supporting the Black community, a lot of what I said can be adapted to center on supporting Queer/Trans people, Native people, undocumented immigrants, womxn, and other marginalized populations. Hi, everyone! I hope you are all safe and healthy. If you need emotional support, please reach out to me. I care about you and I am here for you. In the meantime, please enjoy this exclusive essay I wrote that I will only be publishing on this website. As an elementary schooler, I was never a huge fan of Star Wars. Movies were a family thing and with my feelings toward my family often being rather complicated, I preferred to find shelter with more personal enjoyments-- mostly books like Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, and Warriors-- that I could hold in my hand. The strongest memory I have of watching Star Wars in my elementary school years is of viewing The Empire Strikes Back with my aunt during a snow day and I was more focused on the fact my aunt napped through the whole movie than on the film itself. Fortunately for today, in eighth grade, my opinion of the franchise was shaken after I experienced one of the newer films, The Force Awakens, in theaters. Now, as I am at home with my mind overloaded with worries for my extended family members losing jobs, for my friends struggling with complex home situations, and for my country scrambling to find an adequate solution to handle a deadly virus, I can find validation, unity, and hope in a galaxy far, far away. One thing I love about being a Star Wars fan: you are never alone. Even though the story takes place in another universe and is rife with fantasy, so many issues the franchise tackles are visible on Earth. Although, of course, on Earth, these challenges are much more serious because they are real. One parallel is how the original trilogy centers on imperialism with the main antagonists allying with the Empire. On Earth, we do not have to fight a galactic authoritarian government, but we do have a long history of colonialism. Additionally, similar to how Star Wars’s sequel trilogy concentrates on the difficulty of escaping past horrors, we humans on Earth are still combating the negative effects of European and East Asian imperialism. Just a quick listen to the podcast Illuminative can paint a powerful picture of the struggles Native people in America possess right now during the COVID-19 crisis due to the ramifications of colonialism. On a personal level, Star Wars can be quite validating. The Star Wars prequel trilogy is all about the harmful impacts of emotions as seen by Anakin Skywalker’s fall to the dark side. Chronologically, in the following trilogies, viewers watch Anakin’s son Luke and grandson Ben encounter similar hurdles. On my mother’s side of the family, we, too, have a pattern of mismanaging emotions. We jokingly label the matter as the “Yee anger,” but it’s a serious issue that has led to emotional, verbal, and, at times, physical abuse in my extended family. Star Wars has always reminded me that the troubles I face with my family are universal and that I am not alone. As a sensitive person myself, I feel acknowledged by how, in Return of the Jedi, Luke illustrates by trying to save his father that emotions can be healthy as long as you use them to selflessly help others. Besides solely relating to life, Star Wars can also unite and inspire people. Although, as a child, I disliked the community feel of the franchise, I have now grown to respect the way the movies brought my family together. In my middle school years, watching films became a highlight of my weekends. Movie nights were a time when my family could be with one another, all focused on the same thing, in peace. Recently, during the lockdown, my family was privileged to a free two-week trial of Disney+ and for three nights, we were able to quietly watch The Mandalorian together. My family are not the only people connected by Star Wars. Just visit Star Wars Wikipedia, a.k.a Wookieepedia, and see how the site has over 155,000 articles and updates daily. Wookieepedia is a glimpse at a vast and motivated fandom. With my family’s Disney+ trial having ended, I have relied on YouTube to provide me with summaries of the most recent Star Wars: The Clone Wars episodes. Even during this global pandemic, channels like Star Wars Explained, ScreenCrush, and StarForceOne, among others, are steadily producing videos. To further showcase the inspiring nature of the franchise, on the activist side of things, one young supporter of the Green New Deal wrote on their protest poster, “We grew up on Star Wars, Harry Potter, and Marvel. Of course we’re fighting back.” One thing Star Wars is able to offer, especially now with the spread of the coronavirus, is hope. I am so anxious. Every single day brings more and more bad news. The longstanding inequalities in the US are sharper. Scapegoating is prevalent everywhere from the United States to India to China. With so much negativity in the world, it is difficult to feel optimistic. Yet, just reading Star Wars books like Last Shot, Master & Apprentice, and Black Spire can comfort and encourage me. In Last Shot, Lando Calrissian and Han Solo try to prevent an evil alien from controlling all droids. Master & Apprentice centers on two Jedi struggling with the intricacies of politics and slavery. Black Spire follows a Resistance agent setting up a base on a remote outpost. The common thread between these three stories is that the characters persevere and do good despite how powerless they may feel. Even though I find myself in despair at times, I remind myself that there are things I can do to aid others. I can help my parents deliver extra grocery bags to the local food pantry. I can knit scarves for my friends and family. I can simply listen and read the accounts of those who are suffering and need a platform the most right now. It’s funny how a franchise I disregarded as a child became such a motivator for me as a teenager to assist others. But, as one episode of The Clone Wars states, “Never give up hope, no matter how dark things seem.”
Hi, everyone! I hope you are doing well. I hope all your mixing dreams over this year have aided you. This year has been pretty good for me storywise. I have solidified what mediums I use as well as created a Patreon account, which at the moment you can subscribe to for free. Now, onto my essay "Stickers on Scars." See you in April! I grew up with eczema on my arms. Orangey cuts stung my skin and red bumps crowded one another. At night, I wore socks on my hands and decked lotions on my arms to stop myself from scratching. At school, well-meaning friends barked at me to leave my pick-marks alone. My parents watched, disappointed, as every morning, I came to breakfast with more blemishes. It wasn’t until later that my view was trembled. I was working at a summer camp when a child noticed the abnormalities on my skin. Instead of simply asking what caused those scars, the child placed sparkling stickers on each of my injuries. Then he said, “Now they’re stars.”
I wish that those stickers had fixed everything. That I immediately stopped injuring my skin and instead peered at my body with acceptance. While the picking did not cease, the child’s words clung to my thoughts. How could a bruise become a star? After all, the stickers the child had placed were gone by the time I came home. Left abandoned on concrete. Still, I yearned for an answer. I feel like the day hiding the stars. On mornings that I wake up with white and red speckling my arms, I adorn long-sleeve shirts. I know my cuts still linger and I itch them through the cotton every now and then. In the evenings, when the stars glitter far over my head, again, I see my wounds as I change into pajamas. These marks are not beautiful. They are not stars that leave during the day and return at night. They are scars, burdened with pain impossible to banish. But maybe, I wonder as the boy’s words trickle into my mind, it’s my perception that needs the most assistance. Maybe it is my body that is the star hidden under my eczema. I am the one who needs to simply let it shine. Hello, everyone! I hope your last few months have stirred something good. I have been stickering new pieces of writing all over the place on Wattpad and Patreon. Anyways, onto the essay "Collaging!" Note: Written from the perspective of Autta Aho, a fictional character from Buchtton.
There's something calming about collaging. The tearing of little pieces of paper that would otherwise be forgotten always brings me a sense of belonging. I piece together pictures of brown wool with the yellow glow of the sun. I can combine the silver-speckled night sky with a rosy morning. The sleek texture of a magazine article, the graininess of a newspaper, they all come together to become something more than their original parts. I can find paper all over the place. Fresh, unwrinkled computer paper or the wonderful curviness of old receipts. I can use homework assignments from long nights I can barely remember and birthday cards from years past. When I collage, I can create something disorderly and beautiful and that brings me peace. Hi, everyone! Things have been going pretty well. I have started recording a lot of my pieces, which you can check out on my youtube. On the other hand, I am going to take a break from doing reviews. I don't have a plan for when I return to my review website, but I will no longer be updating that site. Thank you for all the support you've given me and I hope you enjoy all the new content I'll be providing! Onto the essay. There is light beneath us. I take the bus home on Tuesday nights and, oh, the journey is glorious. There is something beautiful about twenty-so people huddled in one vehicle, their individual dreams and worries whirling and slipping into one another’s consciousness. There is a unity underlined with discord that can only be described as light.
I think we sometimes forget that the people around us exist. They’re not just statues decorating our lives. No, they’re people with their own histories and beliefs. We have so many lives we live. Sometimes we’re simply the person sitting in the back of the bus. Other times we’re the person who gives up their chair for the girl who wants to be with her parent. We are still nobodies in both situations, yet we are there and glowing. I forget how big the world is. I get so caught up in my life and everyone I know that I disregard the countless people that make up the backdrop. I underestimate my appreciation for the boy and his father that pass me every morning. I overlook the people driving cars on my way to school. For all I know, this may be the last time I see these people. Most of all, I neglect those I don’t see. They may be a town or a continent away, but they are still living and, oh, they glimmer. I am the one who needs to pay attention and remember the light beneath us. Before I begin, I just want to let you know that I'm no longer updating my four other blogs. I have found they aren't getting that much views and it may be easier just to keep this one. Anyways, onto the story! "Secrets in A Cave" Dear Mother,
What were you thinking when you abandoned me? Did you know your decision would separate us by oceans? Did you know I would miss you? In my moments of weakness, I think you didn’t know any of that. I think you were scared and if anything, you wanted to help your family. Maybe you thought the best way to do that was to abandon me. I hate not knowing. I hate these secrets in a cave. I hate that memories are too short and fantasies are too strong. Sometimes, I even hate you. I’m constantly told by people that I’m lucky and special. Even my older brother Jolly who was also adopted from China scolds me for my anger. Are we adoptees not allowed to feel anything but gratefulness? Don’t get me wrong, I am so fortunate and privileged to have Kiko and Jonah Stoneman as my parents. Thanks to my mother, I am connected to my Asian heritage although she is Japanese and I, Chinese. I love my parents and their British accents. I love this mush of a family we’ve created, but Mother, where are you in all this? I’m lost. I’m stranded in an underground cavern, condemned to a relentless pursuit of truth. Secrets are my prey, but they are quick to duck out of sight. I’m alone and I hope that you care. Mother, what were you thinking? Love, Wendy Stoneman Hello, everyone. As you've probably noticed, it's not March, meaning I lied. I'm going to change my big update schedule to every three months: April, August, and December, or AAD. This goes for the Zyanya Ridge website as well. I'll try to fit at least one review between each of those months as well. I don't have that much to say and I don't want to bore you with rambling, so I'm going to keep the rest of this post short. I have lots of stories and art projects to be published soon. I've also realized that I am genderfluid, asexual, and aromantic. Finally, I'm still struggling with mental illnesses. Life has been a mixture of a windy storm and a calm snowfall, but I have hope for the future. Well, see you in August! Have a good next few months!
Overall, I think a lot of people can agree that 2017 hasn't been the best year. Insensitivity, selfishness, and an unwillingness to meet change has sped through the atmosphere and plummeted into people's minds. I, myself, have battled with all three of those descriptors and will probably have to continue to do so next year. It is an ongoing fight, but one I must take in order to lighten the future. This year personally has not been an especially good year. I've dealt with depression, suicidal thoughts, and generalized anxiety. I sometimes wonder if a lot of it is a result of spending more time on the internet. I received a Chromebook for my birthday last year and ever since, my consumption of social media has increased. Still, I don't regret it. I've learned much since the change that has positively affected me as a person. I've made a hard, but important decision to no longer promote myself as a musician. After taking a course in music theory, I've realized I have not music talent what so ever. Sure I can learn if I really put myself up to the task, but with work, family, friends, my other creative activities also being significant parts of my life, increasing my music talent is low on my to-do list. Despite having a mostly negative year, I still think there can be hope for 2018. For myself, since I've found professional assistance for improving my mental state, I've become better. For my creative works, I've become more determined to improve while continuing to be entertained. For the world, there have been incredible people doing awesome work to make others' lives better and as long as people keep promoting their voices and listening to them, I believe we can make society better.
Hello, everyone. So I'm changing the way I'm running these blogs. I'm going to do the same thing Hunter and I do for our zyanyaridge site. I'm going to have four big posts per year for each blog. The information included in these "big updates" includes reports on my stories, little tips, and, maybe once in a while, a short story. This will vary depending on the topic of the blog, but the point is that I'm no longer having topic posts. Why? Well, I've realized my blog had become a dumping ground for my troubles and I'm putting unnecessary burdens on my readers. Most people visiting my blog come here from my social media and they're looking for updates on my stories and artwork. Now, they can go to my "Writer Updates" and find all the notifications they need about my books. Want to see how my songwriting is doing? Go to "Musician Updates". I'm not going to delete all my previous posts, but it will be rare to see any more like them. I might do little updates if something big is happening or I have a new story that I really want people to view. I may even do shout-outs once in a while, but keep tabs on RidgeReviews for recognitions. I'll be posting on September's, December's, March's, and June's. If you have any questions about the new plan, please post below. Thanks!
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AuthorI'm Darcy Ridge, creating stories that all revolve around family and identity in a myriad of ways. In the past, I have shared multiple stories and published a novella online. You can find me on Wattpad and many other social media websites. They/them [Image Description: black background with the words "Social Justice and Mental Health Resources" in white in the center /end ID]
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