Items

• 
  2020-03-28

  Staying Connected: Battling Isolation During a Global Pandemic

  This music note is the logo for Tik-Tok, the reigning social media outlet that allows account holders to both create and view content in the form of 15-120 second videos. As of 2020, there are an estimated 65.9 million monthly active Tik-Tok users in the United States alone (Statista). Although the app was created in 2016, it skyrocketed in popularity during the pandemic and saw a 75% increase in weekly average users from January to September of 2020 (Forbes). I, among millions of others, joined those figures when I created my Tik-Tok account in late March of 2020. When school closed indefinitely earlier that month and my job followed a few weeks after, my meticulously structured daily routine was thrown into a state of disarray. As mounting uncertainty grew over whether it was safe to leave our homes at all, the four walls of my bedroom transformed into a prison. I was perpetually shackled to my bed, spending every day in a continuous cycle of sleep that lacked a beginning or an end. That was until I discovered Tik-Tok. Suddenly, I had a reason to wake up in the morning, anticipating the stream of new videos that would appear on my carefully crafted “for you page”. I spent hours glued to my phone screen, fascinated by the small glimpses into the lives of people who were just as bored as I was. I appreciate Tik-Tok for the fleeting but much needed moments of laughter and distraction it supplied me with throughout the pandemic, but the app holds value to me because it showed me that I was not alone. In the early weeks of quarantine, I spent countless nights in pure distress over what I believed was “wasted time”, and it felt as if I was on the fast track to loosing years of my life. However, Tik-Tok showed me that these feelings did not belong to me alone. Countless other people felt the same way I did, and this knowledge put into perspective the importance of staying connected. My cycle of isolation left me alone with my feelings in a vacuum, but once I opened myself up to the outside world through Tik-Tok, I found solace in the online community of people who shared the same sentiments I did but chose joy and laughter instead of sorrow and despair. Tik-Tok provided me with the support I needed by allowing me to witness the happiness of others, eventually prompting me to create my own.
• 
  2020-06-25

  Hats Off: Finding Closure Amid Uncertainty

  This screen recording, a small snippet taken from a live video posted on the Richardson High School Eaglettes Facebook page on June 25,2020, takes place in the back parking lot of my former high school. The fixture in the middle of the video is a "stick chick", and just beyond the stick chick is the stadium where I performed at every football game for the last three years as a member of the Richardson High School Eaglettes, a Texas style dance team. What you witnessed was the senior hat-hanging ceremony, meant to be performed in our big auditorium at the end of our final show that is usually held in April. This moment is meant to be the pinnacle of the drill team experience, a last bow in front of your teammates, family, and friends as they celebrate and applaud you for your hard work and dedication. Every early morning, every sore muscle, every tear of frustration was meant to be justified in this moment, when I could finally hang the heavily sequined hat that carried the makeup, sweat and troubles of my three-year experience and inwardly declare "I did it". But that moment never came. When school closed indefinitely in March amidst the raging global pandemic, our final show was the first event to be cancelled, followed shortly after by prom and graduation. The disappointment was crippling. I felt my world cave in as every important moment I had waited months for was stripped from me, and soon sadness made way for anger. Then one day I received an email, announcing the date of an outdoor and socially distanced closing Eaglette ceremony. And funny enough, the moment you see here almost didn't happen. I was so content with my anger that I contemplated not attending the ceremony, controlled by the belief that denying myself of this moment would show the pandemic that it could no longer hurt me. But with some motherly encouragement I gathered myself up at the last minute, making it just in time to hang my hat. I recieved honks instead of cheers, headlights instead of stage lights, and the ages old concrete of the parking lot as my stage. But I wouldn't have had it any other way. What you witnessed was my moment of victory, my realization that good can spring forth amid bad, and the moment that I decided I would not let the pandemic defeat me.