Menu

Contest Winner – Adult

Adult – 1st Prize

“From Hiding to Seeking”

An essay by Anna Jubilee

I remember the exact moment when my emotions and I started playing hide and seek. I was six when I first saw my father hurt himself. I had left the dishwasher open by accident, oblivious to the fact that because he is blind, he could trip on it and fall. When he did, I was so scared of the sight of him in pain that I ran upstairs to hide in my closet, engulfing myself in darkness. I curled up as tight as possible, with my knees to my chest as I felt wetness on my cheeks and grappled with what I just caused. Even then, I didn’t let people see me cry—that’s private. The guilt bubbled up inside me and added another layer to my armor of disassociation. This was the beginning of my journey to become a seeker of light after many years of hiding in my own figurative closets.

My hiding began young when, as an adopted child, I began to notice that my white family was different from the families of other Black kids in my class. We listened to different types of music. We had different customs and clothing styles. We even had very, let’s say, interesting thanksgiving foods that I did not enjoy. I found myself instinctively fascinated with the intricate hairstyles and the hip hop/rap music they shared with me at school. All of these differences led me to feel isolated in darkness and uncomfortable, but I couldn’t articulate my emotions. I was very secretive about my adoptive past and self-conscious about my dad’s special needs. I was determined to keep these things separate from the rest of my life. I was hiding my emotions from my family and my family from my friends. I eventually came to the realization that I can’t hide my family and that I should be proud of my love for them and how much they have influenced the person I am today. I had to learn that I gain no benefits in my life from hiding from my insecurities and I should rather be found by the seekers around me.

The summer after freshman year, I started working at a dysfunctional and poorly run fast food restaurant. (It was so notorious that it has its own Reddit page.) After just one week of working for that establishment, I had been exposed to a wider range of different people than I had in my entire life, hard-working single moms, regulars dealing with mental health issues, coworkers dealing with drug addiction, teen parents, and others. I was emotionally torn and wanted to help these people solve their problems.

However, in the process, I tried to take it all on myself, which led me stuck in another closet of anxiety and bad decisions. I was hidden in my own darkness yet again, only now under their problems. Eventually my parents took notice of my absence and sat me down to have a lot of difficult conversations. They helped me understand that while it’s a good thing to be a person who seeks the light in others, I needed to guard myself and my emotions from situations and people who will weigh me down. I had to learn that it is possible to care too much for others at the cost of my own well-being.

I’m learning not to hide from my emotions anymore but rather seek new ways to embrace them. When you seem to be living in multiple worlds, you’ll always feel like you’re hiding from one or another. I was hiding from my parents. I was hiding from the community I grew up in. I was hiding from my friends. And most of all, I was hiding from myself. Having faced the repercussions of hiding, I am ready to start seeking the light. I am seeking to build a good community at school through my involvement and leadership. I am seeking to broaden my knowledge and understanding of other cultures and perspectives by traveling to new places. I am seeking to uplift and help my friends who are struggling without hiding my own struggles. And lastly, I am seeking a well-rounded education that will teach me how to be a leader in this world with great
needs.

Adult – 2nd Prize

“Light vs Dark”

A poem by Gabrielle Simone Beyah

Light is many a thing
It’s the sun that shines every day
It’s the smiles on the faces that you always see
It’s the coffee made just right on a bad morning
It’s the look in your eye when you see your person
And it’s the warm hug from your mom when you need it the most
Light is the comfort your roommate brings you when nothing about college feels right
Light is the love from your friends
And having a family to go home to
Light is that steaming bowl of pasta healing you from inside out
It’s your favorite song playing as soon as you think about it
Light is the way you feel when the breeze rushes through your hair
Light is sharing a meal with the people you love
And knowing that someone is looking out for you up above
And darkness is the silence that follows the laughter
The thoughts that linger in your mind
It’s the ache you feel in your chest when anxiety takes over
And the words you wish you could take back, but you can’t
Darkness is the empty side of the bed that you wish were filled by that one person
It’s the quiet phone that you wish would ring
It’s wondering if you ever have been, or will be enough
And the heavy emotions that take up all of your mind
But light always finds its way back
Like the morning slipping through the blinds
Reminding you that after new beginnings follow every ending
Darkness teaches you the depth of light
The importance of keeping the pages turning, even when they are heavy
It shows us how warmth feels warmer after experiencing the cold
How love feels louder after the quietness of being alone
So light and dark, they dance together
Like the sun and the moon
One can’t exist without the other

Adult – 3rd Prize

“When I Think of My Dad…”

An essay by Anaya Michelle Wilson


When I think of my father, the pressure grows slow in my chest. My breath stops in more than one place and suddenly a hush that wasn’t there before is back. I am smart enough to understand that beginnings do not arrive as gently as one would typically assume, but what I am struggling to understand is the meaning of endings. I am currently writing from that place of fog.

When my dad passed away, nothing was bright. The morning after illustrates my grief perfectly-as it is the only thing that can repeat itself in my head. It felt like a shadow was walking past me and once the light tried to return in uncertain patterns, I’ll think of him again. Where the light doesn’t display outright, the darkness begins to speak. The scariest part about that shadow is that it leans so close and will force you to listen with more than just your ears. The voices aren’t neat chords; they arrive in the form of strong winds blowing you away, rain crashing down on a pavement, and a siren that sounds so close despite being distant. My light was now being diminished by the shadow of grief. This shadow following me around everywhere since that day resulted in an internal battle between all of my emotions. Anxiety and somber constantly fight to be felt while joy is struggling to dig up after being buried deep inside of me.

Nothing is simple, in fact, my path lacks a source of light. The shadow is still lingering. I honestly didn’t predict how far this would carry. The sluggish way I wake up, how anxious I move throughout the day, and my fear of the future is only one of many notable changes in my life. I miss him every day and I miss how life felt with him here. Once my day begins, I constantly think about the night his life ended and how the rest of us given the path of hitting reset, living, and then rest to do it all over again tomorrow. My father will never have another chance to hear me tell him good morning once the sound of my alarm buzzes. He won’t have the chance to see the rest of my milestones, what I promised to accomplish in university, and see me dance on stage or in the open space of our dining room. Sadly, I will never be granted the privilege to have another provider, protector, and educator like my dad. I am trying to figure out how to put an ending on my anxiety, intrusive thoughts, and compulsions while also attempting to wrap up the academic semester. The ordinary is a thing of the past for me; I am deep in grief and yet I am promising myself to keep moving through an environment that fosters my generation’s futures. My grief continues to demand being listened to. There isn’t a moment where that shadow is being ignored.

Consequently, I struggle to find the in-between and try to make the most out of my day, but when I’m not sleeping at random hours or choosing to escape my emotions by wasting my time with distractions, I think of my dad and must remind myself that he’s really gone. However, there are some moments when it feels like my dad never left. I’ll randomly hear his laugh that was so loud the vibrations from it were felt every time or sing a song that he would’ve sung only he would be singing off-key. This is when the light speaks to me, simply imagining him and keeping his warm spirit alive. Any subliminal that speaks to me and is loud enough to hold my attention for the day, I believe that it’s my dad talking to me. What’s so special about it is that these messages are shown in ways that were unique to his personality. Whenever I receive the message, I write it down so that it is always with me.

Writing has always been a part of my life. It has been one of my favorite hobbies and sometime my outlet to express my feelings. Personally, my isn’t poetic or romantic, in my opinion writing doesn’t diminish grief. However, it provides me with something to grasp and illuminate. In a way, letting my emotions speak through characters on paper helps me see my grief for what it really is-a reflection of how privileged I was for a father like him. While my grief is unlike anything in this world, my writing is my truth. When my truth is expressed and untamed, the light speaks even louder. I am reclaiming a part of myself amongst the chaos of my emotions and daily struggles in an honest way. The truth is, my grief is relentless, but it is raw. I can write for hours about only one of many honorable qualities that my father was blessed to have and the best part about it is I don’t have to worry about it being beautiful. To me, it’s about revealing what is real although dealing with losing a parent is unbearable, it is something that I carry with me. When I am done writing about the subliminal messages I received from my father, it brightens me up instantly. Now suddenly, the day seems survivable as if I were living my life on life’s terms while still honoring my dad.

All in all, I am writing this because I am choosing not to keep my emotions bottled up. I want to acknowledge my grief as a part of me now, not separately. I wish I could stop myself from turning 19, I could be free of pain and despair right now. However, to miss my my dad more than words can express means that I am loved. I will never take that for granted. As I embark on this uncertain chapter of my life, the light says to me “learn what the darkness has been trying to tell you all along,” and then my father reassures me by subliminally letting me know that he will “follow me from the moon and the sky above.” In case my father decides to make himself known at any point in time, I would tell him that I am honored to be the keeper of his story and saying that brightens up my life in cohesion with the darkness that I carry every single day.