My “Red Coat” Epiphany

Rachel Swan

In Steven Spielberg’s Schindler’s List, the main character, Schindler, is a member of the Nazi party during the Holocaust. He witnesses how Hitler’s army terrorizes and murders people of the Jewish community. After seeing the atrocities, Schindler alters his perspective and works diligently to protect and save the Jewish people being victimized. Spielberg craftily presents his movie in primarily black and white. However, one specific scene is presented in color when Schindler is standing on a hill watching the Jewish people being raided and forced out of their homes. This scene is critical because Schindler spots one little girl wearing a red coat. Spielberg wanted his audience to recognize the importance of this little girl in a red coat to appreciate how Schindler distinctly saw the little girl for the first time. Despite the lack of dialogue, the little girl serves as a symbol and forces a turning point for Schindler which changes the way he perceives the Jewish community. Although he could not do anything to save that little girl while she was in the midst of a raid, he felt empowered to prevent the future torture of others.

People we encounter can sometimes unexpectedly serve a purpose similar to the little girl in Schindler’s List, challenging us to uphold morals and values despite going against the trends of society. As a young child, I was constantly battling a desire to be accepted with the responsibility of protecting my sister. Fortunately, like Schindler, I experienced a moment, similar to the “red coat” epiphany, when I finally chose to put my morals before my pride.

Growing up, my sister Amelia received all of the attention from my parents. Perhaps her title as oldest daughter and diagnosis of autism invited people to coddle her since she struggled to express her emotions. She was unable to process other people's’ intentions, and I often endured the brunt of her anger and frustration, at times being the proverbial punching bag for her outbursts. Although Amelia did not want to hurt me, I was too young to understand the difficulties she faced and frequently resented her treatment of me. It was not until third grade that I realized what it was like to live with a social disability and saw my sister through new eyes.

Amelia was sitting at the lunch table with her new friend, a boy. Their friendship was defined by simple laughter, sharing favorite snacks, and rehearsing for the upcoming drama performance. I witnessed this innocent joy, yet I feared it would soon be shattered, because I had previously observed how people with differences were mistreated. Quickly, her moment of joy turned into terror as her classmates approached the table to mock Amelia for sitting with a boy. They insulted her, saying, “you are so weird and awkward; he will never like you.” They relentlessly ridiculed her routine of eating food she defined as“safe.” After several minutes, Amelia ran to the bathroom. Seeing her distraught caused something inside of me to erupt. At that moment, I became a defender rather than a spectator. Although I was her younger sister, I confronted her tormentors and explained how insensitive and hurtful their behavior was. As the words were rushing out of my mouth, I felt her fear and frustration as if I were the one being bullied. Unlike Amelia, however, I could express my emotions and formulate words whereas she could not process the situation and ran away.

While apologies from Amelia’s friends might have helped soothe her, this “red coat” event changed my life. From that moment on, I understood the difficulties that Amelia faced, and I felt empowered to protect and support her. Amelia taught me the importance of compassion and the need to be supportive of people’s differences. Too often, I took for granted simple aspects of life, but watching Amelia struggle taught me to appreciate opportunities afforded to me and persevere. Like Schindler, my perspective changed seeing Amelia face unnecessary bullying and I realized that it is my responsibility to protect the innocent. No longer did I look at Amelia as the favored child; instead, I saw her as a strong, determined individual who can overcome any obstacle.

The Tree

Lorna Petrizzo

Up! Hands scrape the sky

Middle! The lone sentinel

Down! Your feet entrenched

Math

Lorna Petrizzo

I need help with math

Drowned in a sea of numbers

Where’s my eraser?

Oda a La Puesta del Sol

Natalie Maye

La puesta del sol alimenta mi alma. Los colores de rosado, anaranjado, y amarillo pintan fotografías en el cielo. Las nubes tintadas me traen alegría.

La puesta del sol ilumina el cielo e ilumina mi día. Me encanta cómo cada una es diferente. Cuando estoy distraída, me hace consciente. La puesta del sol es siempre legendaria.

El sol siempre se pone para terminar el día y traer uno nuevo.

Ode to the Sunset

The sunset feeds my soul. The colors of pink, orange, and yellow paint photographs in the sky. The tinted clouds bring me joy.

The sunset illuminates my sky and illuminates my day. I love how each one is different. When I'm distracted, it makes me aware. The sunset is always legendary. The sun always sets to end the day and bring a new one.