Notes On ' Spring Break '

Spring Break is that time of year when you just let loose and have fun. You can do activities like camping and swimming.

For Spring Break 2018, I went with my boyfriend’s family to Grand Rapids, Michigan. My boyfriend’s name is Dalton and he is tall with dark hair. In his family, he has a little brother that is 10 years old (Kody), and his mom (Kelli) and dad (Bill). We went to Michigan, because Dalton’s dad had to go for work. Dalton’s dad’s name is Bill, and he works on huge machinery, like what they use at SDI.

The Cosmo episode we watched in lab right before Spring Break was called, “Hiding in the Light.” This episode focused on the wave theory of light, which was studied by mankind. Light has played a huge and very important role in scientific progress, having early experiments from over two thousand years ago, which involved the camera obscura by Chinese philosopher Mozi.

Mrs. Swenson stated this calendar is similar to every other year, just has adjusted dates for the upcoming school year. It has the same number of teacher and students days as last year. Mrs. Swenson stated that it is consistent with the Legislature currently, unless they change something we will be starting before Labor Day. It appears we are closed around the Thanksgiving holiday and having the beginning of that week off for conferences again. The winter break is from December 22nd and reopening January 2nd. Spring Break will be at the end of March next year. Mrs. Swenson asked for any questions.

It was a week after Mom and I visited my uncle when we received the call announcing his death. Uncle Lito, my oldest—and favourite—uncle from Dad’s side, had been battling against cancer for almost a year and he had been coping up so well that we all thought he would survive. His passing was a shock for all of us, especially to my father, who was working abroad at the time and was the closest amongst the siblings to Uncle Lito. I remember Dad lamenting over the phone, telling Mom that he wants to go back here to the Philippines to attend the funeral—to see Uncle one last time. However, due to some hitches with his contract and money, Dad could not return in time for Uncle’s burial.

“Time to go,” my mom said in excitement, it was the day we were leaving for our yearly family beach trip. “Yayyyy,” my eleven year old self said with excitement. Today was the day I would see my family whom I do not get to see often. As soon as we arrive to Myrtle Beach, I am greeted by all of my favorite cousins, and we begin to catch up with each other. Not two hours later, this beach trip will end with a phone call. “Catherine, pack up your stuff, we have to go home. Pawpaw is sick,” my mom said with a stoic look on her face. So, I quickly pack up my clothes and went to the car. My family is unprepared for the news we are about to receive.

Over Summer break, I broke my hip, I Couldn't walk nor get up from bed. While I was stuck in bed, I couldn't hang out with any of my friends. So I had my turtle in my room. He didn't do much, he just kinda looked at me and waited for me to feed him. It was hard to feed him because I couldn't get up. I had to reach over to the turtle feed, and throw his food into the tank.

Sisters, they can be the biggest pain in your butt, but other times they change the way we see the world. Spring break was finally here, our plane had landed two hours ago and we were headed to Walmart to pick up food for our vacation week. The whole family was together including my mom, dad, sister, and brother. I felt relaxed and took in a long deep breath knowing that I did not have to do anything for the next full week. As the family and I strolled into the store I could tell my sister was overly joyed. I remember the strong aura of flowers as I walked to the stores entrance. As I wandered into the store, I was soon hit by the artic blast of the air conditioner. My sister and I headed straight to the food section. We both went straight for the in season oranges, which had this impressive vibrant orange color.

Every time I hear about spring break, it reminds me of the day I got lost. I was seven years old, and it was a typical windy spring day. We decided to go to a park festival happening nearby. “Get Ready,” my mom screamed from downstairs. “I am coming,” I replied quickly. I was wearing a greyish shirt which suited with my thick black hair and blackish eyes. My golden yellow pants made a strange contrast with my shirt. My mom who has reddish hair was wearing a sea green top with a blue pant. My father has a black mustache and greyish beard. My siblings also have black hair and blackish eyes like me. We all got packed up, including my siblings and me. We sat in the car, and we were ready to go.

The strategy that I would like to adopt for my Alternative Spring Break experience is being aware of my privilege. It is without question that we all possess privileges that allow us to have certain advantages over others that we may not be aware of. That is why it is crucial to understand and reflect on how our social status provides us with certain benefits in a community. Once privilege is identified, it can be used to acknowledge that others may have endured different struggles, and it provides grounds to empathize with and educate yourself on advantage-based issues faced by members of society. I plan on implementing this strategy throughout my Alternative Spring Break experience by coming to terms with the privileges I possess and reflecting

Over spring break, I went on a MOVE service trip to Kentucky. I was lucky to be there with an awesome crew of kids, both Saint Michaels students whom I traveled with and students from other colleges with whom we worked. We split into groups and spent five days working on different houses in rural, Appalachian Kentucky. We got to meet many of the local people who lived in the area and talk to them about their lives. I did not expect this trip to really relate to what we were researching for Environmental Justice, but it absolutely did.

Around the end of July, I realized my summer break was coming to an end. I had a strange feeling of emptiness, a feeling that something was missing. I felt as if I did not thoroughly make the most out of my summer and the only way to satisfy this conflicting predicament, was to engage in an adventure. Being the very audacious person I am, I decided to take my family on a weekend trip to Biloxi Beach. This trip, although it was short lived, proved to be superlative and was one well worth the time.

It was a hot, sticky, end of July day; and I was in for a sandy time. I was in Ocean City, Maryland, with my grandmother, who I call Ganny; my grandfather who I call Poppop, and lastly my grandmother’s friend, Gayle. Poppop was yearned to go on this vacation. He was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease about a year before I was born, it was rough the last few years for my grandmother to help him, she told everyone it was like taking care of a grown baby. Despite her struggle with taking care of him, she always loved him and never left him side. Just the way he did not leave her side when she was diagnosed with Breast Cancer. The beach was so close I could taste the salty air, and Gayle owned a town house about a block from the sandy roads that was convenient. First stop Assateague Island. The sand was blowing away, as if it was burning, and my feet were melting it away. Walking sideways, we found a perfect spot, and set our chairs up.

When I was a child, my late father and I would spend every moment of the summer season on the sparkling white sand of the beach near our home. We would dance knee-deep in the icy surf, kicking up the surface so that the droplets glimmered like diamonds in the sunlight. We would lie on our backs and stare at the sky, until the swirling clouds began to take on fantastical shapes. We would grip imaginary weapons and spar, swinging tomahawks and thrusting swords like the most violent of fantasy pirates. These idyllic days went on and on; a never-ending cycle of azure skies, frozen forever within my mind. My earliest memories are filled with images of my father in these moments, laughing as he kicked up the warm sand and twirling a golden compass around his pinkie. And, now, as I stand on the same beach, feeling the same heat radiating under my feet, almost fifteen years later, I can’t help but think of him. I can’t help but think of him, and all of the pain he instilled into both himself and everyone around him during the final years of his life.

This morning, my cousins arrived at my house. Since then, the place has been bustling with noise, and there has been a lot of shoving and roughhousing. Currently, we are getting ready for dinner.