Abby P., Oakwood High School
The Thing With Feathers
Emily Dickinson wrote that hope “is the thing with feathers”. If hope is a soaring bird, then this pandemic is its cage. Each day, we must endeavor to hold onto its key.
When the shutdown began, I was disheartened like so many others, though viewed the situation as a temporary setback. School closed on March 13th; I expected to return to the building along with my peers by the end of the month. But my expectations did not come to fruition. Three weeks matured into six, which melted into the rest of the school year. Suddenly, I had to spend time with friends over video calls. I couldn’t hug my grandparents or little cousin, or travel beyond my backyard. Home was a prison. The world was crumbling around me; the carefully constructed walls of my life being blown to pieces right before my eyes. We were caught in the midst of a hurricane - with no end in sight. I was enshrouded in misery, cracking slightly each day under frustration and anxiety.
One evening, I finally shattered at the dinner table; tears cascaded like waterfalls down my cheeks, I choked on my words as I struggled to explain how alone I felt. But once I calmed down enough to think, I seemed to burst into the eye of the hurricane. A fleeting sense of peace and understanding came from releasing everything I’d bottled up. Though the pandemic had not ended, it suddenly appeared more manageable. I could not control my situation; the only thing in my hands was how I chose to respond.
From that day forward, I strived to see the positive. Hamilton was released as a movie. I was able to spend more time with my family, playing board games and laughing until we cried. As the weather warmed, I could see friends in person. I learned to focus on the bright side of the situation, searching for the beaming ray of sunlight when the storm clouds began rolling in. I found small ways to lift others up too: giving a nod and smile to those I passed on the sidewalk, calling family members, preparing and delivering bagged lunches to the local shelter. I had found the key to the cage inside me.
Hope is a life raft in difficult times. Clinging to it and spreading it to others is how we make it through to the end of the hurricane. This pandemic is not over, but with the return to school and gradual reopening of society, there is more and more to be hopeful about everyday. Moments exist, like sitting in the classroom and laughing with a friend, where life feels normal. Relishing in these moments carries us over the waters of despair. Sharing them turns us into beacons of light cutting through a wind tossed night. If we continue to lift each other up, we can emerge from this hurricane stronger than when we entered it. Hope will be released from its cage, finally able to soar.
