On lazy Saturdays in fifth grade, I spent entire afternoons outside exploring the neighborhood and digging around my garden. At that age, freedom from responsibility meant that I had a seemingly infinite amount of time on my hands. The neighborhood was my endless playground. Hours upon hours were spent playing hide and seek and lifting stones to see what was underneath. Yet, as vividly as these memories once filled my mind, I find them fading away as I enter my junior year of high school. Juggling an ever-increasing amount of work meant that I could no longer live life with the carefree nature of my childhood.
I remember the simplicity when my family lived in a quiet Sunnyvale neighborhood. In the evenings, my brother and I would bike through the neighborhood for hours. On some days, my mom would take us on a long walk to Las Palmas Park where we zoomed down the playground slides and dug in the sand pits. I was an adventurer of an unexplored frontier as I scaled the playground’s boulders. Every trip to the park was a new quest, every bike ride an expedition.
My bubble burst when my family moved to San José in the summer before sixth grade. I was thrust into a completely new environment with unfamiliar faces. When my brother and I started attending Miller Middle School, I focused on fitting in while being introduced to teachers who assigned copious amounts of homework and students who were laser-focused on their academics. As the school year progressed, memories from my life in Sunnyvale seemed to grow distant.
Walking home from Miller one day, I noticed how quiet the neighborhood was, void of any sounds of laughter or chatter. I was hit with the realization that I had not heard the sounds of children playing in a long time. I thought back to those untroubled moments in elementary school when I chased my brother through the park. But now, I could hardly recall the last time I played a game of tag or spent hours outside.
As I journeyed through middle school and soon entered high school, I continued to grapple with leaving my childhood hobbies. Frustration arose out of not finding the same joy in stepping foot outside and exploring like I once did. However, high school introduced me to a plethora of opportunities, and I developed new interests. Curiosity toward having meaningful discussions about the world led me to join debate. The appeal of exploring a new culture led me to join Spanish Club. My interest in learning more about political issues that affect my life led me to join Politics Club. Even though I was no longer exploring playgrounds, my love for adventure manifested in my desire to explore the world around me.
Sometimes, I wonder what my life would be like if I were still living in that quiet Sunnyvale neighborhood. Sometimes, I wish I could go back to those simpler days. However, as I’ve spent more time exploring new interests, I’ve come to recognize the importance of change. In these past few years, change has distanced me from my childhood, but at the same time it has transformed me to the self I’m proud of today. Change is something I can’t escape, but it is something I’ve learned to embrace. Although I may no longer find myself on long neighborhood expeditions, I will always look forward to what’s ahead of me, ready for my next adventure.
