Merrell Hatton

Claire Collins

Poetry

In this KidSpirit poem, teen poet Claire Collins describes the beauty of the earth.

The Earth Becomes Still

Greer Sallick

Anyone who has been to a major league baseball game knows the sounds of fans, the smell of hotdogs, and the heat of a summer night.

This night was like that, but it had one more thing that made it very special. Hundreds of children of all ages were congregated there… Not just any children, but children of the strongest and most determined mindset. These children had spent their entire lives struggling with sicknesses. Cancer, asthma, severe scoliosis, to name a few. Although their situations may have been grim, the vibe was not. The vibe was that of a class that just finished exams with A’s in their hardest subjects, happy and accomplished. They were here because the Starlight Children’s Foundation brought them together at Citi Field in New York City to broaden awareness for the hardships that these children face and to bring them together, like a great big happy family.

The Starlight Children’s Foundation is an organization that provides mental and emotional support for children that have medical issues. They hold events across the nation where these children come to play games and make friends. For eight years now, one such event has been held at the Mets’s Citi Field in New York. This year hundreds of kids suffering from asthma, cancer and many other diseases gathered to watch the Mets play the Detroit Tigers on a warm June evening.

One of the attendees was lucky enough to hand the Mets starting lineup to the Umpires right before the ball game began. Jamal Jervier, who is 18, suffers from asthma and severe scoliosis. He has been through quite a lot in his life including several surgeries to improve his condition. During one of these surgeries he died on the table but doctors were able to bring him back to life. Now he is a friendly, energetic and driven individual. When I asked Jamal what was the hardest part about living with two debilitating diseases he told me it was the teasing he received when he was younger and still a little today. “When I was younger I used to be teased a lot and I never liked it. I was crying.” Jamal says, “But now I started getting over it.” Jamal’s mother says he is the most loving, caring and energetic boy she knows. Whenever she comes home Jamal greets her with, “Hey mommy! You’re home!”

Jamal is a perfect example of how the Starlight Children’s Foundation helps kids all over the world. Jamal felt as if he was alone and could not fit in, but Starlight showed him that, in fact, he was not alone and he made himself at home in a new community with new friends.

Starlight Children’s Foundation is a massive, worldwide organization that helps millions of seriously ill children — 275,000 in New York, New Jersey and Connecticut. For over 25 years this number has been growing and it continues to grow. Starlight not only hosts events, but also provides in-hospital entertainment and distraction during long and painful operations. You can help by donating via the Starlight website.

In a KidSpirit Feature article, teen writer Greer Sallick a special baseball game with the Starlight Children's Foundation. 

Disability, Determination and Strength: Starlight Goes to Citi Field

Madison Friedman

She felt she had no one to talk to or confide in. She was stressed out from homework, tests, and her parents’ recent divorce. Julia believed that she had no one to turn to for help. She had no energy and was always tired. She was bored with life, or at least her life. One day Julia was sitting with her so-called friends. She was watching them talk, not listening and not saying a word. Then she let something escape her lips: “I wonder if they would miss me.” She wasn’t talking to anyone in particular, she was just wondering aloud. She also was not expecting anyone to hear her, but someone did. The girl who heard was concerned. She spoke with her friends about it and they became concerned as well. Together they decided to tell the school counselor, who called Julia to her office. The counselor, Julia, and her friends spoke together. Julia realized that she actually did have friends who cared about her and her feelings. She began meeting with the counselor every week, and began to feel better. She reconnected with her friends, handled the pressures of school and no longer felt the pit of loneliness in her stomach. She found a balance in her life that brought her peace.

These girls were concerned about their friend, and rather than just ignoring her problems, they decided to get help. Julia, a fictitious example, was depressed. Often people mistake depression for something besides a medical problem, but it is in fact a medical disorder. Depression affects millions of teens around the world. In many cases like Julia’s, depression can take over a teen’s life. A person may start acting differently, become generally disinterested, often do poorly in school, or even find themselves contemplating suicide. Sometimes it can be hard to differentiate between depression and normal teenage behavior such as rebellion, irritability and stress.

Twenty percent of teenagers have or will experience depression before they reach adulthood. There is a misconception that depression is uncommon, weird, or only happens to “emo” kids. Your classmates or even your friends may be suffering from depression without you being aware of it. There are, however, behaviors that depressed teens typically demonstrate. Some signs to look for are changes in behavior, the use of alcohol or drugs, changing friends suddenly, or not showing up at school. Other signs are talk about worthlessness, death or suicide. If you become aware of these behavioral changes, it is important to pay close attention and determine if there is a pattern that could indicate depression.

Everyone has seen ads for antidepressants, which may lead you to believe that this is the only form of treatment. It’s not. In fact, for teenagers, antidepressants should only be used in severe cases. Often, simply speaking with a therapist, or going to group or family therapy is enough, as it was for Julia.

Teenagers can experience depression regardless of their ethnic background, race, or financial situation. Both boys and girls can be affected by depression, although it is more commonly reported by girls. Boys tend to suppress their feelings more than girls; therefore it is difficult to know how many might be suffering from it.

For many, depression can be triggered by the normal stress of growing from a child into an adult. Other causes include low self-esteem, breaking up with a girlfriend or boyfriend, parents getting divorced, or the death of a friend or relative.

At one time or another everyone feels mildly depressed. It’s unavoidable. There are many situations that can make us feel sad, or alone, but this is not the same as medically diagnosed depression. There are many ways to keep feeling down from turning into debilitating depression. Surround yourself with family and friends and do things that make you happy. Try to lower the stress in your life, and learn to balance schoolwork with fun. By doing so, you reduce the chances of feeling overwhelmed. By leading a balanced life, you will significantly lower your chances of becoming seriously depressed.

If you think someone you know is suffering from depression, find a way to get help. Be persistent in soliciting help from an adult and just listen, and above all, offer your support. If you are depressed, talk to someone you trust — a parent, sibling or teacher. There is always someone that you can speak to.

http://www.teendepression.org/articles5.html
http://helpguide.org/mental/depression_teen.htm
http://kidshealth.org/teen/your_mind/mental_health/depression.html

In this KidSpirit Feature, teen writer Madison Friedman explores the causes of teenage depression and ways to help those suffering.

Teen Depression

Gautama Mehta

In PS/MS 183, an underfunded public school out in Far Rockaway, New York, third graders participate in a program called SFK, which stands for either “Success for Kids” or “Spirituality for Kids”—the kids aren’t really sure which.

Every week, the children, in classes of 25, are taught something called “Social and Emotional Learning,” a series of incredibly simple and basic lessons on behavioral awareness and self-esteem. In SFK doctrine, every decision is made based on two contradictory voices in one’s head, the Guide and the Opponent. The job of the Opponent is to challenge the chooser by obscuring the “Inner Light.” The terminology has changed over the decade since SFK’s founding; the Opponent and Guide used to be the Badguy and Goodguy, as well as the Me-Voice and the We-Voice.

The lesson plan, a strict 12-class curriculum from which teachers may not deviate, is written by a crew of curriculum writers in California. The same curriculum is taught in many SFK programs around the world. When I asked Venessa Giordano, SFK’s program director for New York City, about the curriculum, she told me she had just given a lesson to Wall Street bankers that was nearly identical to what the kids were taught.

SFK, Success for Kids, formerly Spirituality for Kids, is an international non-profit organization (sfk.org), and its programs are integrated into school curricula in at-risk neighborhoods. When I asked Venessa about the name change, she explained that “spirituality” doesn’t translate well, and that while they had the old name, they spent most of their time explaining that they weren’t a religious organization.

SFK does fantastic work empowering poor children in its various locations. In Israel, they run a program called “Kids Creating Peace,” in which the SFK curriculum is taught to Israeli children in Hebrew and Palestinian kids in Arabic, and then the two groups are brought together for a summer camp through which the kids on both sides, some of whom have been brought up with deep hatred towards the other, learn to appreciate the similarities between the two groups, and help to dissolve the hatred. There is no question that this organization does truly good work.

Many of the third-graders from PS 183 have never been to Manhattan, or seen a movie in a theater, according to the teachers there. Eight kids from this school were taken to London two summers ago for an SFK summer camp. They love every minute of SFK. They memorize the literature, and apply the values to their lives. A few weeks ago, after a lesson on bullying, one boy stood up in class and announced, on his own initiative, that he had been a bully before, and that he was very sorry, and he apologized to anyone in the class he had bullied before.

The school librarian, Rebecca Ovadia, found out about this program when it started, and began helping out, and finally decided to start an “SFK Club” at the school, in which she and the kids focused on community service. In the club, which I also visited, the students—many of whom were probably living on welfare themselves—had raised $175 through a bake sale to benefit orphans in Malawi, then started a food drive through which a thousand cans of food were donated to a local food pantry, and through clothing drives donated five hundred articles of clothing to two churches with Haitian congregations in the aftermath of the January earthquake.

Personally, I was shocked that SFK could work. The lessons are taught through abstract demonstrations, such as a unit on friendship in which students were told that a cup represented them, and water represented good qualities. Water was poured into a student’s cup until it couldn’t hold any more. Did this mean there was no more room for good qualities? Of course not—he could simply cut a hole in the bottom of his cup and a friend would hold their cup under his, and there was room for more water.

Or another—in a lesson on taking initiative, and facing challenges, students were asked to play a game in which a balloon had to be kept up in the air without touching the ground. This was easy and almost boring, but what about when there were many more balloons? The game became harder and a lot more fun, demonstrating the principle that challenge can be a good thing.

If I had just read or heard about these simple, abstract demonstrations, I would imagine that kids would never take the ideas seriously to the extent that they do. What relevance does this game with balloons have to the real world, and the issues that SFK claims to deal with, “high-risk behaviors, such as early sexual activity, non-attendance, depression, violence, and drug use?” Somehow, the curriculum worked magically and wonderfully at PS 183. But at another class I visited, it didn’t appear to do the same job.

At the New York City Department of Probation in downtown Manhattan, Daniel Tuttle, a charismatic young SFK graduate, teaches an SFK class himself. Here, juveniles on probation, all much older than the third graders in Far Rockaway, have the option to forego their community service and instead attend the SFK class once a week. Before class begins, Daniel warns me: “It’ll be foul. And I might get foul too, but that’s the only way I can relate to them.”

Sitting in on the class, it is obvious that none of the students want to be there. It’s a smaller class, only 15-20 students on average, and fewer were there on the day I attended. The incentive offered for behaving in class, and doing the exercises, is getting let out early. The punishment for not obeying the teachers is losing the credit gained by attending class. Only a couple of the students actually did participate with any interest, whereas the rest sat glumly for the duration of the lesson, barely staying awake (two of the students actually did fall asleep) and never answering questions.

The ugliest part of the SFK philosophy revealed itself in this lesson. “What is the goal of life?” Daniel asks, then answers himself. “Success.”

This was reiterated in a video he showed called “Karma Ghost,” an animation about a man who collects an invisible Karma Ghost every time he does something bad, like littering, or shoplifting, or tailgating, or vandalizing. Finally, the combined effect of all the Karma Ghosts pushes his car off a cliff and he dies. The lesson is simple: everything you do has a consequence, so if you want material gain, you must do good things. If you want to get off probation, do community service. If you want credit for showing up to the SFK class, appease the teacher. If you want to achieve the goal of success, help other people and collect karma.

I don’t know whether this same philosophy prevailed in the other classrooms I visited. The curriculum is one that is unilaterally applied to all kids whom SFK teaches, with miniscule variations. When I visited these classes, I wondered whether these children deserved more individual attention and respect than that. Why can’t the teachers have the freedom to get to know their group of students and decide, based on this experience, what is right to teach them?

Tabitha Strauss, an enthusiastic volunteer at PS 183, pointed out that the teachers do have some input on the curriculum. They give periodical reports to the curriculum writers. She proudly added that the teachers were the ones responsible for adding the bullying lesson into this year’s curriculum.

What is the SFK philosophy? Every teacher I spoke to seemed to have a different idea of what they were teaching. For Rebecca it was about values of community service, for Tabitha it was about empowering children with basic self-esteem and confidence, and for Daniel it was about teaching the dropouts of society how to make the choices that will eventually better their lives.

Later Daniel told me a story. One day he was in the elevator after class when a boy who used to be a student came up to him and told him that today was his last day on probation, and that the values he was taught in SFK were what got him out. He made the choices that he did because of Daniel’s class. And I believe that that one incident is reason enough to provide this class to every child who might be helped by it.

In a KidSpirit Feature article, teen writer Gautama Mehta writes about the social emotional learning program Success for Kids (also known as Spirituality for Kids).

Success for Kids

Colette Gerstmann

Years before I became vegetarian, I was interested in animal rights.

I read books about animal rights, convinced my mom to take me on a tour of my local ASPCA (American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals), and had a strong belief that people should not wear fur. Later on I insisted on only eating free-range meats and organic dairy and eggs. Then, after learning about the way pigs are cruelly treated in factory farms, I cut ham, bacon and other pig products out of my diet. When I was around eleven I brought up the idea of becoming vegetarian to my parents. They told me it was unhealthy for children to become vegetarian and were concerned about my getting enough protein and iron. It became an idea I brought up every once in a while, but my parents were not comfortable with totally cutting meat out of my diet.

One day when my mom made chicken for dinner, I downright refused to eat it. I said that I wanted to become a vegetarian and that it was unfair for my parents to dictate my diet. I told them I’d find recipes myself and help with cooking so that they wouldn’t have to make two different meals for dinner. But they weren’t worried about that—their concern was my health. They didn’t want me to develop anemia, which results in lack of energy and is harmful to health. They told me that they knew how I was feeling and they respected my beliefs but that my health came first. I ate my chicken in tears that night, feeling with every bite that I wasn’t doing the right thing.

My friends wanted to help with my predicament, so they told me I should find vegetarian recipes and research on vegetarian health, and put it all into a “Vegetarian Folder” to show my parents. I did just that, pleased to find an abundance of online information about living healthily as a vegetarian. I showed it to my parents, telling them daily about new articles I found and pointing out benefits for my health and for the earth, as well as stating that being vegetarian was a personal choice and a part of my beliefs. After asking my doctor about my becoming vegetarian and finding out that many kids my age had remained healthy as vegetarians, they told me I could stop eating meat as long as I continued to eat fish and ate plenty of other iron-rich foods. They did some research themselves, informing me that eating rice and beans together increased the protein intake in both foods, and that it was the same for washing down peanut products with milk. My dad had been a vegetarian for a few years as an adult, so he knew about some ways to make sure I was getting enough protein and iron. I was happy that my parents had accepted my choice of going vegetarian and I was grateful that they tried new vegetarian recipes to make and eat with me.

Sometimes, however, when I ate lunch at school, some people objected to the fact that I called myself a vegetarian while still eating fish. They said that I was not really a vegetarian.

I ate fish about once a week and only ate wild (not farm-raised) fish, except when it was unavailable. Sometimes, however, when I ate lunch at school, some people objected to the fact that I called myself a vegetarian while still eating fish. They said that I was not really a vegetarian. I argued that I was a vegetarian, that fish was not considered meat, that I needed fish to make sure I was getting enough nutrients. I was upset that they were bothering me about the foods I ate. I found it upsetting that they hadn’t even made the commitment to becoming vegetarian, but they thought they knew more about it than I did. However, I began to doubt my own judgment in the matter, thinking that they could be right. I became ashamed of eating fish and wondered whether cutting it out of my diet would be the right thing to do.

Eventually I started asking my parents to let me stop eating fish. They said no. They told me that I shouldn’t let people’s comments get to me. But I was actually beginning to think myself that maybe it wasn’t right to eat fish. I started eating fish less and less, and my parents became aware of my intentions. They explained that not eating fish could result in anemia. My mom informed me that when she was little and her Catholic family observed Lent, she was not allowed to eat meat but she could still eat fish, which was not considered meat. But I stubbornly continued to boycott fish. I ate lots of other iron- and protein-rich foods, such as tofu, raisins, milk, spinach, nuts, beans, cheese, yogurt, and quinoa. To this day I don’t eat meat or fish.

I became a vegetarian for one main reason: I thought it was wrong to eat animals. But becoming a vegetarian was—and still is—a learning experience for me, and the truth that I found out while researching the topic is that being a vegetarian has lots of other benefits. As long as enough nutrients are being absorbed, vegetarians are often very healthy and at a lower risk for illnesses such as heart disease. Also, vegetarianism is very good for the planet—raising an excess of animals for the meat industry results in extra carbon and methane emissions and farm animal overpopulation, and factory farms, where animals are inhumanely slaughtered, and which often dump dirt and waste into rivers and other bodies of water.

Being vegetarian, or even just reducing the amount of meat you eat to a few meat products a week, can have a big impact on your health and the earth. And maybe it’s just me, but eating vegetarian makes me feel good about myself; I feel like I’m doing something right, ethical, and humane. People might laugh or scoff, but I’m a vegetarian and I’m proud.

In this KidSpirit Feature, teen writer Colette Gerstmann delves into why she became a vegetarian.

Becoming Vegetarian

Katie Hartman

In a fast-paced age of technology, in the “city that never sleeps,” and in a school system where excellence is not only stressed but expected, balance is the last thing I think of when I reflect on the life of a teenager like myself. 

The other day I sat down and thought for a while about whether or not there really is any kind of stability in my life. And the first thought that came to my mind was: Well, it depends how you define balance. Balance in itself is a fairly vague idea. The American Heritage Dictionary merely defines it as “a state of bodily equilibrium.” The more I thought about it, the more I came to the conclusion that there isn’t equilibrium in my life at all.

Being a teenager is pretty much a perpetual state of change. Halfway between being a child and being an adult creates imbalance in itself. Change seems to be the force that counteracts any stability I could possibly have in my life. It seems as if it I am standing on the very edge of a cliff, not knowing when the next change will come about, and that I will be pushed over the edge only to find myself on the edge of another cliff. With this image in my mind, obtaining balance seems frankly impossible, especially with so much uncertainty and so many decisions that are not left up to me. It may seem that while I am standing on that cliff I am in a state of balance, albeit briefly. But recovering from being shaken by the last push isn’t real stability, at least not stability I would ever be truly comfortable or satisfied with.

I have gone through many changes over the past year and many moments where I felt like I have been pushed from any sort of balance I had. For example, Wylie, one of my very good lifelong friends, announced last May that after years of dreaming about it, she was going away to boarding school. Push. I have always had three best friends at school since Kindergarten: Selena, Holden, and Reese. Last April Reese decided to leave our school to go to a special performing arts high school. Then Selena decided that my high school would be too challenging and switched to a school outside of Manhattan completely. Holden, who used to live a block away from me, moved to the other side of Central Park. Push, Push, Push. I went to high school, and although it’s on the same block as my middle school, it is different—very different. I was used to always being at the top of my class, and with ease. My eighth grade teachers told us that with their help, we were fully prepared for high school. I would categorize this statement as an exaggeration. Fifty new kids joined my grade, a group of kids I had known since I was five, and used to know everything about. And these kids all took hard tests and wrote essays and interviewed to get in. They were the best of the best who applied. By contrast, when I applied at the age of five, I only had to draw a picture of my family to get in. No competition there. Push.

But what if I could jump from cliff to cliff? I played with the idea of putting myself in charge of the changes and embracing them, instead of just waiting to be pushed from ledge to ledge. And the more I thought about it, the better the idea sounded. Not all of the changes that I’ve been through in the past year have been bad ones, and even if they were, embracing all kinds of changes with a positive attitude allows me—instead of falling off—to drop from cliff to cliff and enjoy the ride.

What I can do is attempt to create balance within myself—allow myself to be okay with the ever-changing surroundings.

So I have come to a new conclusion. Attempting to create stability in my own, small, chaotic, universe may not be a very possible or worthwhile feat. But what I can do is attempt to create balance within myself—allow myself to be okay with the ever-changing surroundings. Once I am no longer worrying about what is constantly going on around me, or when I will be pushed next, I can finally embrace every change with new-found inner balance, and jump.

In this KidSpirit Big Question article, teen writer Katie Hartman shares her insights about  finding balance in her hectic high school life.

From Cliff to Cliff

Katie Champlin

Young and curious, baby Katherine can’t help but peer over the edge of the fire pit. The orange and red flames attract her eyes. Such mysterious wonder.

What would happen if she touched it? With no one in sight, Katherine extends her arm just inches too far. This is a tragic mistake. Rachel, her sister, screams for help. Their father, however, is convinced that she pushed her baby sister into the fire. She is accused of pushing the person she loves so greatly into the pit. She’s accused by her own father. Did Katherine really just reach out too far? Or is her only sister responsible for the scars that will stay with her forever?

“The petrol burnt fiercely. Acid flames covered Katherine’s brown hair and her head, burning her hair, her face, her body. Acid flames covered her arms and her little body’s chubby folds and soft baby skin.”

The agony that Katherine experiences throughout her lifetime is carefully depicted throughout these pages. Set in Australia, you do feel as if you are there. From the wildlife to the slightly different vocabulary, we know we aren’t in the United States.  The main character is a swimmer, a big sport in Australia. She is a swimmer whose own coach wants her off the team because she’s so different looking. While Katherine is always outside and in nature, I’m not sure why the author picked the title “Butterflies.” Maybe it’s because of the symbolic aspect of butterflies. They are transformed so dramatically. Whether it is the painful fire that practically consumes Katherine or the rough behavior from upperclassmen in her school that make her feel even more self-conscious, either way, Katherine comes across as an everyday girl. Yet, she has elements of heroism in her blood, and one truly loyal friend who helps her cope. It is fascinating to find regular teen problems combined with a terrible disaster. The problems Katherine faces create an amazing page turner.

This book is a phenomenal work of art. It portrays the most subtle, yet deep emotions that make you crave more. The main character is continually trying to figure out how she really feels. Her life is out of balance, and she’s always trying to get some equilibrium. Will the bully stop taunting her? Will the others stop laughing at her?

Susanne Gervay uses unusual techniques to tell this story. The author introduces her main character in the present moment, during an awkward incident at school. But then, there are flashbacks. Through these flashbacks, you come to understand Katherine. The author introduces her main character’s unimaginable horrific scarring, but at the same time, successfully makes you feel as if you were the one living with burns. Wishing you were someone different. Gervay also effectively portrays Katherine’s relationships with her sister, mother, friends and most noticeably, her father.

Aside from the conflict of her being ‘different’ from everyone, a large part of the plot focuses on the main character being curious about her father. She doesn’t really know him. He left her mother because raising the children was too difficult. Not only has he become an alcoholic, but it is never clear if one of his daughters injured the other on purpose. Did he just imagine it while he was drinking? Katherine’s father cannot deal with this uncertainty at all. It is heartbreaking to experience Katherine’s intensifying anger towards him, as he comes to visit at random times. Many years without him makes it hard to tell if she will let him back into her life, or forget him forever.

Katherine just wants to lead a normal life, one with a father and with the skin everybody else has. She is tired of the endless skin grafts and how differently people treat her. Will Katherine’s wishes be fulfilled? Will she learn to live with her looks, with who she is? Or will she get the scars removed, the way one doctor suggests. If her scars are no longer evident, will she change entirely? Is it more important to fit in, or to be yourself?

I would rate this book a solid 4 out of 5. Susanne Gervay does a great job of creating a believable character with unique needs, and a dream that might come true. Read it and find out if it does!

In a KidSpirit Media review, teen writer Katie Champlin gives her take on Susanne Gervay's novel Butterflies.

A Review of Susanne Gervay's Butterflies

Cairo, Egypt’s largest city, has not had any garbage collection companies. Instead they have relied on people known as the Zaballeen.

The Zaballeen are Cairo’s lower class. All 60,000 of them make their living by recycling garbage into raw materials that are then exported to countries like France and Belgium. They are the best at what they do, recycling around 80% of the garbage they collect. Cairo’s residents pay a small fee for the Zaballeen to come collect their garbage.

Recently foreign refuse companies have moved in and taken away the Zaballeen’s contract with the government. These foreign companies only recycle around 20% of the garbage they collect. Now you may ask why go with these companies, which don’t recycle nearly as much as the Zaballeen. The Zaballeen use almost ancient methods of garbage collection and recycling compared to the modern methods of these foreign refuse companies. Although the Zaballeen are more efficient, Cairo’s officials prefer the modern methods of the foreign refuse companies. After all, excessive garbage and the globalization of trade is a worldwide problem.

Garbage Dreams is a documentary film that follows the lives of three young Zaballeen boys growing up as their garbage and lifestyle are being taken away. These boys are all trying to support their families and save the Zaballeen. The local school called the Garbage School not only teaches the children how to read and write, but they also learn how to efficiently recycle. The Garbage School also sends students to America and England so they can learn about modern recycling methods and apply what they learn to help the Zaballeen modernize to compete with the modern companies.

Many of them also deal with family struggles. All of the Zaballeen are way below the poverty line. For example, a young man’s apartment is built by his father on the roof of their family home. Most likely, he will live there for all of his life. One of the most eye-opening quotes from the movie shows just how poor these people really are. A young boy yells to his sister across the rice bowl in the middle of the floor, “Give me the rest! You ate last night and I didn’t.”

It may be frustrating reading this article from a comfortable couch. To get a better experience of the hardships faced by the Zaballeen, see the Garbage Dreams simulated online game on the PBS website. In the game you must be as efficient as the Zaballeen and you aren’t given much time to do it. It is much more challenging than it seems, trying to keep your income above monthly costs while making your recycling as efficient as possible to support your family and community.

Garbage Dreams is now available on DVD. I strongly suggest you watch it. It is very moving and shows you another perspective of life, one in which one man’s trash truly is another man’s treasure. I only gave it a four out of five rating because at times it is hard to follow the story line of the movie, but otherwise the movie is flawless. I hope you are moved in the same way I was.

In a KidSpirit Media article, teen writer Greer Sallick reviews the documentary Garbage Dreams.

A Review of Garbage Dreams: One Man's Trash Is a Zaballeen's Treasure

Elizabeth Berg

Food, Inc., a documentary produced in 2008, explains many aspects of the food industry that, unfortunately, aren’t well known.

Focusing largely on meat production, Food, Inc. presents the health, environmental, moral, and economic problems with the modern food system.

Narrators Michael Pollan and Eric Schlosser interview many people involved with agriculture or food production in some way, including small-scale farmers who are threatened by big agribusinesses, people who work for those powerful food companies, and experts who have written about the problems with the food industry.

One particularly shocking interview is with someone who worked for Purdue Farms. During this interview, we see the inside of one of Purdue’s chicken coops. The chickens’ living conditions are dark and crowded, to say the least. The coop is so stuffed that I doubt one more chicken could fit, and I was shocked to discover that they aren’t exposed to natural light. It is more cost-effective to crowd chickens into a tiny space than  to let them graze in the open, so most large-scale companies raise chickens under similar conditions. After the interview, the film’s narrators explain that Purdue fired Morison soon after the interview, and that Purdue was the only company that even agreed to show their chicken coops to the producers of Food, Inc.

Rating for Food, Inc: 5 out of 5The person whose story affected me the most was Barbara Kowalcyk. She explained that she used to be an average, everyday person, who never really thought about the food she ate until tragedy struck; her two and a half year-old son, Kevin, died from a strain of E. Coli after eating a contaminated burger. After that, she became a food safety advocate, to prevent any more people from dying in the same manner as her son. She helped to pass a bill, later called Kevin’s Law, which gave the USDA the power to shut down plants that had a history of producing contaminated food.

Over and over again, Food, Inc. presents the horrors of the food industry. However, just when you start to feel as if you’d never be able to eat anything again, the movie turns optimistic. The last part of the movie offers solutions. Pollan and Schlosser interview Joel Salatin, the owner of a farm where the cows are allowed to graze naturally on grass, instead of feeding on corn, the cheaper and more common alternative that cows cannot digest properly. The narrators also talk to Gary Hirshberg, founder of Stonyfield Farm, a yogurt company. Stonyfield is devoted to treating its cows properly and running a more environmental business overall. These people, as well as others in the movie, show that there are alternatives to eating unsafe, unenvironmentally friendly food that comes from mistreated animals.

Food, Inc. does a great job of educating us about the current problems with food production and offering solutions without being overwhelming. Although some of the images and information may be a bit disturbing, Food, Inc. is very interesting. It is an important movie that teaches people where their food comes from, and the environmental, ecological and ethical implications of our food choices.

To read more about the ideas presented in Food, Inc., visit TakePart.com, and read Barbara Kowalcyk’s blog about E. Coli.

In a KidSpirit Media review, teen writer Elizabeth Berg shares her opinion of the documentary Food, Inc.

A Review of Food, Inc.

Jack Taylor

Just hours before I had been in Ecuador and now I was floating in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

I heard my cousins, Sam and Greg, calling my name and I was pulled from my thoughts of excitement and fear of this new place. Sam, Greg, and I had just finished settling into our “expedition size” room aboard the National Geographic Endeavor. The boat was not as big as a cruise ship but it was the biggest one that my cousins and I had ever been on. For our 13th birthdays, our grandparents had decided to take us on an educational trip to the Galapagos Islands.

I flipped the three switches under our room number so that instead of showing green they showed red. A red switch meant that the guest was out of the boat for whatever reason. At the same time Greg did the same for my grandparent’s switches. As we boarded the ten-foot-long inflatables, known as “zodiacs” in this part of the world, my grandmother, who had already been to the Galapagos, asked:”Are you guys excited to see all of the animals and get really close to them?”

We all nodded in approval. The truth was, though, I had a bombardment of emotions and thoughts flying through my mind. I was excited about finally getting to go on my first hike on the trip that I had been anticipating for about a year and a half. I was scared to see just how close these supposedly “fearless” animals would get to me. I thought about how I was about to take a hike in one of the most amazing national parks in the world. Above all, I hadn’t yet wrapped my mind around how far away I was from home.

Suddenly, over the next half hour, there was a flurry of new bird species, pictures, and many more descriptions from the guides about the landscape, animals, and even some of the plants from North Seymour Island. As we were about to leave the forest I saw something moving back and forth, it looked almost like a bright red balloon.

“What is that?” I asked the guides as I pointed out what I had found.

“Great spotting” said Tommy, one of our guides. “We are lucky to be seeing a frigate [a type of bird] at this stage in its mating ritual.”

Dora, the other guide, continued for Tommy saying to the group, “You all saw the frigates — the birds with the ‘V’ in their tails.”

“When frigates mate, the males blow up a chin sack that normally stays hidden inside its neck. The female simply chooses the male that has the biggest and the brightest chin sack and then they mate,” finished Dora.

Everybody in the group started looking through binoculars at the bird that was about 30 feet away and then started taking pictures. I could hear all the cameras making the noise that signified they could not zoom in anymore. All the pictures that were taken were either too far away from the bird or too pixelated.

“I guess this will just be a memory,” said my grandfather from behind his huge telephoto lens.

Why had I ever been worried about fearing anything in the Galapagos, let alone the animals that had no fear?

After almost everyone in the group had taken some pictures, we heard the guide calling for us down on the beach. We all got onto the first zodiac. As the zodiac pushed off, I watched pelicans, lava gulls, frigates, and even the occasional blue-footed booby flying over the island. As I turned around and faced our boat, the Endeavor, I gasped. Before my eyes was the first equatorial sunset I had ever seen and its beauty took my breath away. I saw the many hues of red, yellow, orange, and purple in an amazing semicircle with an almost square island at the center. I took a few pictures of the sunset and then saw how the boat was lit by it. Everything I had seen on my first day in the Galapagos had been strikingly beautiful in all sorts of different ways. Even the manmade boat was gorgeous. Now as the small zodiac sped over the dead calm ocean lit up by the sunset, I couldn’t help thinking: Why had I ever been worried about fearing anything in the Galapagos, let alone the animals that had no fear? These islands are perfect.

In this KidSpirit Awesome Moments article, teen writer Jack Taylor recounts a trip he took to the Galapagos Islands.

No Fear

Anya Dunaif

I stood looking out over what seemed to be everlasting blue. The sun was bright and the water glimmered as it reflected the light. I sat down in the sand looking over the edge of the dune and saw the waves of Lake Michigan lapping up onto the sand hundreds of feet below.

Near the shore was a small boat; it looked like a bathtub toy, white and blue, sharply mirroring the sun. I got up and read the sign at the top of the dune: “WARNING: STEEP BLUFF. 450 foot drop to Lake Michigan. Return climb is extremely exhausting. Do not run. Do not throw rocks.” I immediately asked if I could go down. My mom has vertigo, so she was scared just by the thought. My little brother was tired from hours of dune climbing, and convinced my father stay with him. Evidently, if I made the decent I would have to go alone.

Before I started my adventure down the dune, we saw a little girl about eight or nine years old who was almost finished climbing up the steep slope. My father went up to her and asked if the climb was hard. She was almost out of breath so it took her a while to respond. Eventually, she said that the climb was quite hard and that it took her two hours — maybe an exaggeration — and then patted her stomach saying, “I’m a little out of shape,” Then she started to laugh. I knew that if she could climb the dune, so could I.

When I got to the edge I wondered what was the best way to go down. I looked around me to get ideas. Some people were taking careful steps, watching their footing and digging their feet into the sand. Others were freely running down, kicking up sand as they went, occasionally falling and laughing full of joy. Some went down in a sitting position slowly inching forward and a few even slid on unfolded cardboard boxes, to keep their pants from getting dirty. I decided that I would walk. As I descended I started to move faster and faster, I was almost running when I was near the bottom. I felt as though I were falling and yet flying as I came closer to the lakeshore. The fact that I was alone did not bother me because I felt escorted by the essence of the dune.

“Climbing the dune connected people, and in turn expanded those connections outward.”

On the way down I passed an old man, who was on his way up the dune. He would climb up about a foot and then sit and rest for a couple of minutes before continuing the pattern. While he climbed, his wife (who was more agile) was yelling at him from higher up. I realized that for some reason both young and old felt that they had to climb the dune. Though climbing the dune was for the most part a solitary experience it connected people, and in turn expanded those connections outward; causing them to have connections that they otherwise would never have had. The connections were not necessarily physical, but rather mental and emotional. We did not need to speak to each other to express the mutual awe we felt when looking at the formidable and yet benevolent dune.

Once I reached the bottom I wished I had taken more time on my way down. The decent was so exhilarating. The heat seemed to press down on my shoulders. I wanted to jump into Lake Michigan and cool off. I looked out at the water and noticed the boat I had seen earlier was actually much larger then I had thought it was. My whole perspective had changed dramatically. Now everything was so calm. The whole world was enveloped by serenity. The light breeze, the soothing waves and all the dune climbers were unified within one central state of peace. The dune no longer seemed treacherous or frightening in any way. Though I was alone I felt as though I was accompanied by all the people who had ever climbed up and down the dune. We were all joined together by this one experience. I went to the lakeside dipped my toe in the water, and then started my climb back up the dune with all the others who had walked the same sand.

In this KidSpirit Awesome Moments article, teen writer Anya Dunaif recounts a trip to Lake Michigan.

Walking the Same Sand

Akash Mehta

Recently I went with my good friend Rebecca and my stepfather to feed and supply the homeless people on the streets of Manhattan. 

My stepdad’s friend, Bob, does this every week with his partner. He and his friends — people like us — pack a ton of toiletries, meals, and other things a homeless person might want, like socks, mouthwash, soap and shampoo, razors, and shaving cream. We go out to places where many homeless people are — a few parks, such as Madison Square in New York. Bob told us how to do it: approach people who looked like they needed our supplies, and ask very respectfully whether they wanted anything.

The first time Rebecca and I just watched as Bob asked this homeless guy who was sitting on a bench, not really doing anything,  “Hey. Could you use this?” as he handed the man a pair of socks. “Yeah,” the guy responded, not really knowing what else to say. “Yeah, I could use that.” Then Bob said,  “How about a razor? Toothbrush and Toothpaste? Mouthwash?” The man, completely bewildered but grateful at the same time, just kept saying, “Yeah, I could use that. Oh yeah, thanks so much, thanks…” We kept handing him more and more things that we take for granted, but which meant the world to him.

I was apprehensive. Bob noticed me, and said, “Oh, how about a meal?” gesturing me forward. I handed the man a meal in a plastic bag, filled with Doritos, a sandwich, some candy. I didn’t say anything. I was irrationally, yet completely… scared. I’m ashamed to admit it, but normally if I’d seen this man — a man with an unshaven beard and wild hair, who smelled and was the kind of guy I’d go lengths to avoiding sitting next to in a subway — I would have deliberately walked past, and quickly.

It went faster after that. Homeless person after homeless person, each one of them having the same initial look — not gratitude (that came a second after), not shame (that came at the end), not happiness (that came as they ripped open the bag, munching on chips), but surprise. Because they aren’t used to charity, nothing more than some coins dropped into a tin, they aren’t used to people treating them as they really are, as human beings.

After a while I plucked up my courage and asked in a small voice, “Um, would you like something to eat?”

After a while, I plucked up my courage and approached someone — a dirty woman staring glumly at the park table she was sitting at — and asked in a small voice, “Um, would you like something to eat?” She startled, jerking her head up to stare at the plastic bag being offered to her a foot and a half away from her nose. Then she looked at me. And she was crying. A mixture of emotions rushed through me: rage and happiness and sorrow and empathy. She took the bag, still looking at me, saying, “Thanks, thanks, thanks…” Rebecca offered her some mouthwash, and then some other friends of Bob poured goodies into her lap, and I was absorbing the emotions flashing across her face, and I thought, at this moment, I don’t know who’s happier – me or her. But as we left, the traces of her thanks lingering in our ears, I went up — with hesitation, of course — to the next person, and there was a great big smile on my face.

In a KidSpirit Awesome Moments piece, teen writer Akash Mehta reflects on his experience helping the homeless on the streets of New York City.

Breaching the Gap

Kaeleigh Morton

I noticed how the sun shines through the trees shedding canopies

I gaze at the light dancing onto forest floor,

like the last slow song at a hushed dance

hands resting beside me, holding the harness

my gloves warm and damp, with my hands locked on the harness.

I take a quick glance at my feet and the ground some thirty feet below,

The faint sound of children laughing and playing below

I turn around to catch a glimpse of a familiar face

With one slip that familiar face is hanging suspended in the air

I watch as she strains her body to reach the rope feet above her head

I monitor her as she pulls her arms up in agony

I still walk I step on the wooden platform

I unhook my clips and re-hook them on the zip line

they click together like a million pins hitting the floor

without a thought I swiftly soar through the air

I accelerate hands free dangling in the open air.

Sometimes I wish everything was that easy

and when I look up into the cloudless blue sky

I wish I could be able to just let go and fly

instead of going to a soccer practice for two hours,

But I still wish I could just be able to just let go and fly.

In a KidSpirit poem, teen poet Kaeleigh Morton meditates on the beauty of nature and thrill of zip-lining. 

One Step at a Time

Brandon Reiter

In a KidSpirit poem, teen poet Brandon Reiter explores the rush of modern life.

Rush

Emma Patton

But after that bad day, I said I had enough

Finally I felt as if there was something that I

I know, that anytime soon, I’m not falling in that

There’s a lot of fight still left in me

I want to become what I’m suppose to be

That’s the difference between me and you

In a KidSpirit poem, teen poet Emma Patton pens an ode to self confidence. 

Hero to Myself

Carter Noh

The sun warms my face like a dear friend.

The grass feels cool on my back as I lay down.

The wind rustles the leaves of the trees,

I hear voices of people enjoying a wonderful day.

The world is at peace, and Mother Nature silently conducts her orchestra.

A train blares nearby, and the peace is disturbed.

Mother Nature plays on, in a vain attempt to mend the silence.

Soon voices of people come, accompanied by the roar of traffic.

Nature’s beauty begins to fade as the troubles of the world

Push it out with anger and ignorant minds.

Waiting for night to fall, when peace will reign

In a KidSpirit poem, teen poet Carter Noh brings to life the beauty of nature.

Nature's Music

Mariko Hirakawa

Finding balance in today’s hectic world is no easy task. Let’s face it: we human beings are a complex species!

To live in a state of inner poise amidst the many worlds we straddle as individuals, all of which are constantly undergoing change, requires that we become expert surfers on the waves of change.

One of the greatest assets we can cultivate in life is the ability to still our mind and turn our attention inwards. When we learn to harness the energy that usually flows outward through the senses and turn it within, we build up a reservoir of positive energy that becomes our greatest ally in solving life’s problems.

“Stilling the mind” sounds simple enough, but if you’ve ever tried it, you know it’s not always as easy as it sounds. When you tell yourself, “Don’t think of a monkey,” what inevitably pops up in your mind’s eye? Stilling the mind requires that we observe and understand the tendencies of our own mind. This may not sound like much, but to be able to turn the spotlight of your attention back on your own mind is a huge breakthrough that gives you access to tremendous power — power to shape your destiny. It may not come easily at first, but wouldn’t you say it’s worth the effort to understand something you have been living with, and will continue to live with, for the rest of your life?

Understanding the nature of the mind, which is the filter and interpreter of all our experiences, is generally not encouraged in our society. Neither at school nor at home are we taught the simple techniques that can help us gain inner poise and tap the source of wisdom and guidance at the core of our being.

Science, which has given us so much advancement in the outer world, has yet to penetrate the mystery of the mind. Biologists and neurologists look to the brain as the seat of the mind, but does this mean that the mind is the brain? Is it the physical brain that gives rise to the invisible mind, with its different personalities, talents, likes and dislikes? These are questions which still evade scientists, even with their cutting-edge technology.

When it comes to technologies that govern the inner world, the ancient Vedic civilization of India was far ahead of ours, with a sophisticated understanding of the human mind that can only be borne of a deep and introspective culture.

The ancient Vedic civilization was far ahead of ours, with a sophisticated understanding of the human mind.

The Vedic culture, which flourished in ancient India more than 4,000 years ago, was based on the wisdom of the sages who dedicated their lives to realizing their human potential. It was an enlightened culture which gave rise to a whole gamut of spiritually-based sciences, a few of which still survive today. Out of these, Yoga is by far the most well known. Its revival and continued popularity in today’s world reveals that what Yoga has to offer is both universal and practical.

So what exactly is Yoga? The popular images we often encounter of modern Yogis in advanced postures portray Yoga as a purely physical system of exercise. For the vast majority of people in the West, the physical side of Yoga is their first, and perhaps their only exposure to this discipline.

But let’s dig a little deeper to the original meaning and intention behind this ancient science. The word Yoga comes from the Sanskrit root yuj, meaning ‘to yoke’, ‘to unite’, ‘to bring together’. It also means ‘to make fit or ready’, and ‘to direct one’s attention to’. In short, Yoga is a discipline which aligns all aspects of our being — the body, breath, mind and awareness — with the source of life energy within. It is a system designed to make the body and mind fit to conduct a higher voltage of life energy so that we can live in a state of greater awareness.

Now what is this ‘life energy’? Thousands of years ago, people were aware that it is not just food, water, air and sunshine that are the source of their energy, but the essence distilled from these sources that made them thrive. This vital energy was called by various names in different civilizations — chi by the Chinese, ki by the Japanese, rlung by the Tibetans, bios by the Greek, and aether by the English. In ancient India, where Yoga emerged, the sages called this force prana.

We can compare prana to electricity. Whether you want to operate an elevator (kinetic energy), a toaster (thermal energy), a light bulb (light energy) or stereo speakers (sound energy), you need the same electricity. Similarly, it is the pranic current that activates life on the physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual dimensions. The same energy expresses itself in many different ways.

In a KidSpirit PerSpectives piece, dancer and yoga teacher Mariko Hirakawa shares her wisdom on finding strength, stability, and inner strength in our tumultuous lives.

Riding the Waves of Change: An Ancient Remedy for 21st Century Living

How do we find balance in a fast-paced world? KidSpirit writers discuss stewardship of the planet,
and how to be physically and psychologically healthy.

The Earth Becomes Still

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