Bliss for Baratti

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For my Idea Farming Project, I worked with Peter Sears, Anton Nguyen, Vivian McDivit, Brandon Loo, and Zackary Hernandez to achieve a goal of making Mr. Baratti happy. The first step was to list any needs that we could think of. We did this while reading Night. swbh9jfs2oc5uskzqcg.jpg

After we finished our list/reading, we chose one of the needs and used it as the base for the “Cow Pie Kitchen” assignment.  Anton, Vivian, and I chose “courage”, and we thought of as many bad ideas as we could for how to be courageous. Some of my favorites were “fight the biggest dude on campus”, “talk back to Mr. Orme”, and “be Devan and Harry in Mr. T’s class”. Also, we decided to make our “connecting image” a lion in reference to The Wizard of Oz and the Cowardly Lion. 43CA0CAB-6294-43B3-AE71-5A368DC622F4

Even though we created bad ideas for the need of courage, we ended up deciding to go with the need of happiness. Thus, “Bliss for Baratti” was created. As a group, we decided to keep our letters lowercased in our “share out” slide to maintain the theme. We wanted to make our theme playful and a bit childish because that reminds us of happiness.

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The “Bliss for Baratti” idea did not come easily. At the very beginning, our group wanted to recreate a scene/make a parody of The Breakfast Club. We had all seen and enjoyed the movie, and it would fulfill needs of happiness, entertainment, and unity. However, we soon discovered that our schedules didn’t line up in order to have enough time to film and prepare, so we had to think of something else. I believe Peter came up with the idea to create an appreciation video for Mr. Baratti, and the rest of the group quickly jumped on board.

Once the plan was all set, the one problem we face was getting students from Mr. Baratti’s first period to send in videos. Although we had asked Mr. Williams to announce our request to first period, we didn’t receive any submissions. We messaged the AP Euro Facebook, and no one replied to that either! Since all six of us are in Mr. Baratti’s second period, we were able to film clips during class, but we didn’t get that opportunity with first period. In the end, we were still able to pull together enough videos to make Mr. Baratti a nice video to end off the year. 🙂

Mr. Baratti’s Appreciation Video

I believe that the video turned out great, but if we could go back in time, I probably would announce our request to the AP Euro students earlier so that they had more time to send in submissions.

Detering, his horses, and his cherry blossoms.

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He was just a farmer who wanted to go back to his quiet life with his wife and animals, and in  someway, I can relate a lot to this. No, I wasn’t conscripted into the German army, and no, I don’t have a wife or a farm, but I do share similar values with Detering.

On page 62, he says, “God! For God’s sake! Shoot them.” in regards to the horses being wounded on the battlefield. He continues to scream and shout for these horses, and it’s clear that he is deeply affected from the cries of the horses. Reading this passage reminded me of a Buzzfeed video I watched about people killing their food before eating it. I cried. While watching the video of people killing chickens, I couldn’t help but imagine my own pet chicken, Daisy, in that position. I would say that my love for Daisy was comparable to Detering’s love of horses.

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Daisy

Another time I related to Detering was when he ran away after picking branches of cherry blossom. Detering was obviously homesick throughout the entire novel, and seeing the cherry blossoms in full bloom pushed him over the edge since he knew that the white blossom trees at his farm back home were also in full bloom. I can relate to Detering in this situation because I know what it feels like to miss the comfort of your own home, being surrounded by the people you care about most.

Once I saw how passionate Detering was about the suffering horses, I felt an immediate connection to the character. As I continued to read, I could see bits of my own personality being reflected through Detering’s words and actions.

 

Taking a Break

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When I first heard Mr. Theriault talk about “Global School Play Day”, I didn’t think much of it. It sounded like a cool idea, but nothing more than that. Once the actual planning started to take place, I was getting more and more intrigued. I had decided to bring in a waffle maker and pandan waffle batter. I was inspired by a student in one of Mr. T’s previous classes who made pancakes during class. I thought this was a perfect idea because I have so much fun cooking/baking, and making these waffles is fairly easy with almost no mess. The waffles were especially great because I could be happy while making others happy. I mean, what’s better than a freshly made, warm pandan waffle on a cold day?

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I completely agree with Annie Vu, a classmate and friend who received one of my waffles, when she said, “[GSPD] was a good stress reliever too, and it feels easier to talk with people.” By randomly handing out waffles, I was able to get to know my classmates better and grow my friendships. During GSPD, I was running back and forth trying to play as many games as possible. Running around doing whatever I wanted brought me back to the days of elementary school and recess. I loved recess so much.

During class, there aren’t many opportunities to make new friends, and when there are the occasional group projects, we tend to stick to the group of friends that we have already established and are comfortable with. Not only did GSPD let me be stress-free for an entire class period, but it allowed me to expand my horizons and interact with people I usually don’t talk to.

All of us have a busy schedule. Whether it includes sports, academics, extracurriculars, or work, we never seem to have time to play anymore. Maybe that’s because we’ve simply grown out of that desire for play, but I still believe that being active and free every once in a while is important. Breaking out of that repetitive, redundant cycle: school, work, eat, sleep, is important. Once you get trapped in that cycle, life begins to blend together into one big blur without any real meaning.

That being said, a break is a break. GSPD was a perfect break. If GSPD happened every day, I feel like that would be too much. I think that having one period of play once every two weeks would be a decent amount of play. Since the English teachers show the BBN every other Friday, we could have a “Period of Play” every time there’s a BBN. I believe that would be a good balance between school and play since we’re in high school now, not elementary.

Some of my favorite quotes about play:

“Almost all creativity involves purposeful play” – Abraham Maslow

“Play is often talked about as if it were a relief from serious learning. But for children play is serious learning. Play is really the work of childhood.” – Fred Rogers

“Only children believe they’re capable of everything” – Paulo Coelho

a special somebody

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“Was it hard…? Being all by yourself?”

Sometimes, being by yourself is nice. Every once in a while, I’ll have a Spa Day Saturday when I’m at home by myself, and I light candles while I have a face mask on just listening to my favorite songs. During these days, I don’t have to talk to anybody, and sometimes I’ll be in complete silence for hours. It’s nice because I don’t have to worry about any awkward interactions, and I kind of recharge for the following week.

On the other hand, sometimes I think it’d be nice to have someone to do face masks with, to listen to our favorite songs together, and to just be with. While somethings are fun to do alone, things such as:

would be better with a special person.

The House on Mango Street

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Summers in Vietnam

I have been to Vietnam three times: when I was two, six, and eleven years old. Every  time I visit, I stay at my uncle’s, aunt’s, or grandpa’s house. My uncle and aunt are my mom’s siblings and my grandpa is my dad’s dad. My uncle’s house was never empty nor quiet. There were always people shuffling in and out. He owned a farm, so there were always chicks chirping, pigs snorting, or rambutan trees causing a ruckus in the wind. My aunt’s house was the same, except she lived next to the market, so there was always the smell of traditional Vietnamese dishes in the air. I remember running out into the street whenever I heard the tofu ladies calling out. The “tofu ladies” are similar to an ice cream truck, but they carry their delicious tofu dessert in baskets across their shoulders. Also, instead of having a song played on a speaker, they use their voice. My grandpa’s house is located in a different city, and he lived across the street from a church. We would spend every Sunday at his house, and when it was time to attend morning mass, we would simply cross the dirt road. All three of these houses bring back so many wonderful memories of summers spent in Vietnam.

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What’s in a name?

Diana. It’s so weird to see my name when it’s not at the top right corner of a piece of paper. The story behind my name is pretty simple. My dad picked out a name, and my mom liked it. Bam. Exciting, I know. My dad chose “Diana” because he wanted to name me after Princess Diana. He told me that I was named after her because he knew that once I was born, I would be treated like a princess. He wasn’t wrong! During elementary school, I really wanted to change my name to “Lisa”. I guess I just didn’t like my name back then. My name in Vietnamese is “Phúc”, which means luck. During Lunar New Year, I am the first to step into the house in order to bring good fortune to the family/house (according to the superstition). As of now, I love my name, and I could never imagine having any other name besides Diana.

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Snap.

1st period P.E. 7th grade. Here I am, running on the wet grass, crisp air hitting my face, and next thing I know, I’m a muddy mess on the ground. My friend had accidentally tripped me. I feel okay, but I have a few cuts and scrapes. My P.E. teacher sends me to the nurse where I get a single bandaid on my knee. I told the nurse that my elbow was hurting because it had taken most of the impact during the fall. She asked me if I could straighten my arm, so I tried my best. It didn’t straighten all the way, but I guess the nurse wasn’t worried about it. A day goes by and my elbow is still in pain. At this point, my mom is on the verge of freaking out, so she makes me go to the Emergency Room. I didn’t want to go at first because it wasn’t an emergency, but I wasn’t about to talk back to my mom. At the hospital, they told me that I had a very small fracture on my elbow. I was put in a splint for a couple of weeks, and after that my arm was pretty much back to normal. I still can’t believe that I fractured my elbow by running P.E.

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The Truongs

There are a total of 4 Truongs. Me, my mom, my dad, and my older sister, An. I love my mom and dad to the ends of the earth, and even though my sister and I get into arguments every so often, I love her too. I don’t know where I would be if I didn’t have my sister, and without my parents, I wouldn’t be here at all! My parents worked their donkey off so that I would be able to live the comfortable life that they never got as a child. My mom and dad work long hours and always come home tired, but they never fail to let me know they love me. My sister is practically my second mom. Even though she is only four years older than I am, she guides me through life, helps me with homework, and takes care of me. My family has shaped me into the person that I am today, I could never imagine my life without them.

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When I Grow Up

When I grow up I want 2 kids. Doesn’t matter if they’re a boy or girl or twins. Just two kids. I want a big house, but not too big. I want to design my own home. I want two dogs, one cat, and one guinea pig. Breed doesn’t matter. I’ll probably end up rescuing or adopting. I want a caring husband and a job I love.

When I grow up, I will be doing what I love everyday. I will read bedtime stories to my kids. I will snuggle up next my fireplace with the love of my life. I will leave cute little notes in my kids’ lunch while I prepare their mini turkey sandwiches on the marble kitchen island. I will tell my pets to be good as I’m heading out the door to go to work.

When I grow up I want to be happy.

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I Only Had One White Blouse.

My mom had a rough early life. She is the youngest in a family of eight children, and they were dirt poor. She works hard to make sure I never have to live the life that she did. Whenever she talks about her childhood she always brings up two things. One: She biked three miles to get to school. No matter the weather, she had to bike along a bumpy dirt road to get to school. Two: She only had one white blouse. Since school dress code was a white blouse with a skirt, she had to wear that one white blouse everyday. She couldn’t afford to buy another one. She would show up to school in a sweaty blouse and muddy skirt (because of the bike ride) and wash it when she came home. She hung it up to dry and repeated this everyday. My mom would go to the greatest lengths in order to receive an education, and here I am taking what I have for granted, sometimes even complaining about it.

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A random pasta recipe.

There are no measurements because I just throw everything into a pot.

  • 1 Box of Pasta (you can use any type)
  • 1 Pint of Heavy Cream
  • Cream Cheese
  • Mozzarella Cheese
  • Shredded Chicken (Rotisserie Chicken is a good option)
  • Bacon
  • Mushrooms
  • Spinach
  • Salt
  • Pepper
  • Paprika

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Social Anxiety

I have never asked for my meal or drink to be changed. If they got my order wrong, I just suck it up and move on. I always have to prepare my order a hundred times in my head, and when it’s my time to talk to the cashier, it sounds a little something like this: “Hi, CanIGetA32OzPeachMeSweetTeaWithLycheeJellyPlease”. I talk so fast because I’m so nervous, which is probably why they get my order wrong all the time.

I don’t do well in crowded places. Actually, I tend to freak out in crowded places. I self diagnosed myself with social anxiety after I had an anxiety attack in a Bath and Body Works during Black Friday. This all happened last year, so I was 14 at the time. The Bath and Body Works was JAM PACKED. I was waiting in the loooooooong line while my sister bought soaps and body washes and lotion and perfume (my mom likes to give them out as gifts). My sister is done, so she stands next to me in line. My cousin is line, one line apart from us, buying stuff for her mom, and she says she wants to go look at the hand sanitizers. My sister tells me to go take her place in line, but that means that I would have to cut across a line of people because going around wasn’t an option. I try to make my way through, but I can’t. I just can’t. I try to say “excuse me” and “pardon me” and “sorry, just trying to get through” but all these words get stuck in my throat before they can exit my mouth. I’m standing in between two lines at a Bath and Body Works struggling to speak. My heart was racing, it was getting harder to breath, my hands were sweaty, and I felt like there was this giant boulder on my chest that was about to crush me. My sister shouts, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING? JUST GO”. I wouldn’t budge. I run back to her in our line, and she sees me crying. She asks what’s wrong and I still can’t say anything because it feels like I can’t breath. She ends up taking the place for my cousin, and I just stand in line. At a Bath and Body Works. Crying.

When I was around 9 years old, some family from out of state wanted to go visit Hollywood. Hollywood Blvd isn’t really that great, and it’s super crowded. My dad had told me to watch out for pickpockets and to keep my backpack close to me. After he said this I started to panic. My mind was scanning all the people to make sure no one was going to steal my $10 backpack from H&M. We reach a part of the street that’s really crowded, and I can’t handle it. I start crying and I have a hard time breathing. My dad kept asking me why I was crying and what had happened, but I couldn’t answer him. I didn’t know why I was crying. I remember telling him “I don’t know. Con chỉ khó chịu. Con chỉ khó chịu.” Which means “I’m just uncomfortable.” I didn’t know what anxiety was at the time, and even if I did, I wouldn’t know how to explain it to my dad.

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How I Grew Two Inches in Six Hours

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“War is not won alone”

At first, I had no idea what I was going to write about for this post. Not one clue. Then, I read a blog post from a fellow student, and I was inspired. After reading her story, I decided that I wanted to share my own story. The story is long, so buckle up and enjoy the ride.

It all started the summer after sixth grade, so the summer of 2015. I was visiting my new family doctor for the first time because I was feeling under the weather. Everything seemed to be going smoothly. She said that I had a fever and a stomach virus, and she gave me the medicine to treat the stomach virus. Then she asked me if I had scoliosis. I gave her a weird look because I had never heard that word before. She explained to me that scoliosis is a curvature of the spine and that it is very common. She checked my back and was almost certain that I had scoliosis, but just to be safe, she sent me to consult with a specialist and to get x-rays taken.

The specialist told me that I did in fact have scoliosis, Adolescent Idiopathic Scoliosis to be exact. Simply put, scoliosis is a curvature in the spine. I had two curves in my spine (double the fun!) that made it look like a backwards letter S. In my first x-ray, the top curve was around 30 degrees, and the bottom one was about 20 degrees. This meant that my scoliosis wasn’t too bad, and that I didn’t have much to worry about… yet.

After meeting the specialist that we were sent to, my family and I visited other specialists  for second and third opinions. I met a doctor from CHOC Hospital who I really liked. His name is Dr. Aminian. We went back and forth between the original specialist and Dr. Aminian.

At my next appointment, my back jumped from 30 and 20 degrees to 50 degrees (top curve) and 30 degrees (bottom curve). My parents were extremely confused and worried. They didn’t understand because at the last appointment, the doctor said that we wouldn’t have to worry. My mom started crying. Dr. Aminian recommended for me to get a brace, and the originally specialist seemed slightly apathetic to the situation. This is when I decided that I would no longer be visiting the original specialist. Dr. Aminian was now my only doctor for my spinal needs.

After being sent to ANOTHER specialist to get fitted and measured for a brace, I had to actually wear the brace. I hated that stupid back brace. IMG_1552

The brace wasn’t meant to cure my scoliosis. There are rare cases where the brace will actually straighten the spine, but once the spine is past 50 degrees, the brace won’t be able to do much besides slow the curving process down.

I wore it for 23 hours out of the 24 hours in a day. I was only allowed to take it off when I showered. I lived, ate, and slept in a back brace my entire seventh grade year. There were times where I would be a typical rebellious pre-teen and take the brace off, but other than those rare occasions, I was stuck. Some days were worse than others. Some days I would cry tears of frustration because I was so uncomfortable, and other days the brace didn’t seem so bad.

By the summer of 2016, my spine didn’t show any promise. The curves continued to worsen, and I was getting more frustrated of my brace every passing day. I had enough. After many appointments and long talks, Dr. Aminian, my family, and I decided to go with surgery. The surgery was a spinal fusion with instrumentation. Bascially, they were going to open up my back, attach metal rods to my spine, and straighten the rods which would straighten my spine. In addition to the metal rods and screws, my spine was fused together to ensure that the spine wouldn’t curve again.

At first, I really did not want the surgery because I had hopes of joining the cheer team in high school. I had been working on my flexibility and skills, and if I had the surgery, all of that work would have been for nothing. Eventually, I realized that I needed this surgery and I really didn’t have any other choice. It was tough, but I got over it. I still love cheer to this day.

Finally, it was the big day. June 28th, 2017. My surgery was scheduled for 7:00 AM, and my mom, dad, sister, and I were at the hospital by 5:00 AM. My last memory from before the surgery is the anesthesiologist giving me the anesthesia through my IV in the pre-op room. However, my family said that I was awake and talking to them the entire time. They even said that I waved goodbye to them as I was being rolled away into the operation room.

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The first few hours after waking up after the surgery are a blur. I barely remember anything besides being very thirsty and pushing the red button that would provide me with pain medicine. After I had regained awareness, the physical therapist walked in and told me it was time to start walking. Yup. Walking.

I never knew getting out of a bed could be so difficult. All I had to do was sit up on the side of the bed, walk to the door, sit down in a chair, and then I could get back in bed and sleep.

I was doing really well and was recovering quickly, so I got to go home on July 1st. I spent most of my time at home binge watching The Flash on Netflix. Things were going fine until the night of July 8th.

My stomach started to hurt so much. I can easily say that that was the most pain I have ever been in. I was given a packet when I was discharged, and the packet said to report back to CHOC Emergency Room immediately if I ever felt any strong abdominal pains.

My dad drove me, my mom, and my sister to the hospital at 12 AM. In the emergency room, I was vomiting my brains out (sorry if that was TMI). I had an NG tube put in to empty my stomach, and the doctors took an MRI of my abdomen. They found out that I had acquired SMA Syndrome and Pancreatitis. These were both side effects of the surgery. Pancreatitis was easily treated with medication and a low-fat diet, but SMA Syndrome was a little more complex.

I was readmitted to the hospital, and Dr. Aminian consulted with a gastrointestinal (GI) specialist to discuss treatment options. For the first few days I wasn’t allowed to eat, but I still had to keep in my NG tube. I was being fed through my IV, and it was hard to talk because of the NG tube. Once I was allowed to eat, I would have to get on all fours after finishing my meal. This was the treatment that the GI specialist came up with. His theory was that as the food was being digested, it would push against the artery blocking my small intestine, clearing the obstruction.

His plan worked, and I was able to eat without vomiting afterwards! I still couldn’t talk much because of the NG tube, but something that really lifted my mood was the therapy dog program they have at CHOC. A couple of dogs visited me throughout my stay, and they never failed to bring a smile to my face.

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I can’t say I didn’t have a little bit of fun during my stay at the hospital. Being a big fan of Grey’s Anatomy, I felt like I was in one of their episodes when the doctors came to do their rounds. Oh, and gaining a couple of inches wasn’t so bad either.

I went home on July 13th with a new appreciation for those around me. I was so grateful to be able to fight my battles with the best nurses, doctors, and family a girl could ask for.  The nurses at CHOC did everything they could to help me be the most comfortable I could be, my doctors were always trying to find the best treatment options, and my family was so supportive. My sister would spend almost every night with me, and if it wasn’t my sister then it was my mom or dad. I was never alone, and I truly could not have won this war without them.

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changes

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Up until recently, I have never considered myself an artistic or creative person. I believed that I had zero artistic potential because I couldn’t draw and had horrible penmanship. This all changed last year in my Environmental Design class. During my freshman year of high school, I couldn’t take P.E. or a sport because of my back surgery (that’s a story for another time), so I decided to use my free period to earn my Visual Arts credit. Environmental Design is basically an interior design class. I always knew that I liked looking at houses and going into Ikea, but I never truly knew the extent of my interest until I took that class. Below is an image of my final project. It reads “A Living Room Fit for a Family” as I was assigned the task of creating a board to present my living room design as if I was presenting it to a real client. The rest of my projects are on the website I made for the class. fefc84_dd79d981a9f14e769ed69b15486b9e5e~mv2_d_3264_2448_s_4_2

This class showed me that to be artistic doesn’t mean that you’re only good at drawing and painting. I felt that through my love of interior design, I could make art by drafting a floorplan or creating a board. This class allowed me to express my creativity in a way that I felt comfortable.