The Boring Color of Before by Gabe, Charlie, Will, Sean

THE BORING COLOR OF BEFORE

BY GABE CHARLIE WILL SEAN

by Gabe Edamura

Gabriel. The name is translated to "God is my strength" in Hebrew. To many people it is a biblical name. Gabriel is the ark angel who was famous for telling the people that Jesus is coming. A name that is power and strength. He is hope as he carries messages from god to the people. A message to hold on, that something good is coming. He is purity and love but to me, it’s just me. Me with my flaws and imperfections. Me with my insecurities and feelings of hopelessness. Everything that makes me, me.

Akira. That's my middle name. Everybody is insecure about theirs. Mine means bright in Japanese. Like a light of hope. Or a light of guidance. To me, it represents my culture. My roots to Japan and my ideals. My belief to be a bright spot in people's lives. I want to be there to guide those who need it. Or be a ray of hope in someone's life. Or the light peeking through the clouds on a rainy day to someone. But I'm me. Me with my flaws and imperfections. But I'm getting there.

Edamura. The name passed through my family. The name that connects me to my family. A blood promise to always be there for them. Sometimes the expectation crushes me. Sometimes it drowns me. A wild undercurrent waiting for me to make a wrong move and sweep me under every chance it gets. Other times the current provides life for me and support. My name, Gabriel Akira Edamura, represents all of me.

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“Me”

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”Past” by Gabe Edamura

It’s Wednesday night. My practice ran late. Again. And I have not one, not three, but two tests tomorrow. I have a math test in which we are learning about analyzing shapes. I think I can identify a circle vs a rectangle. How hard can it be? My Spanish test is on el pretérito, the past tense for verbs. The past? How often do we even need to talk about the past? I always hear about the future and the now. Never think of the past. Why is it so important that I learn about it before learning other words?

Lost in the haze of my thoughts, I didn’t even realize I was home. I race out of the car and take a quick shower. What next? Dinner. I get to the kitchen and make myself a plate. I don’t even have time to think about what I am eating. My mind is already stuck to the math test. Theorems, formulas, postulates blink through my head as I eat. It’s already 9. My mind gets stuck on an engraving on the table. “In Honor of Agnes Santos.” The name doesn’t mean much to me. It’s just a name from the past. The past. Aw man, I forgot about my Spanish test. I get up from the table with a half full stomach and get to my desk to study.

Nothing is getting through my head. “Tienes que cambiar las vocales para la conjugación”. I can’t understand any of this. Words on a page. That’s all they are. How can I learn from something that is meaningless to me? I’ve been sitting. Waiting. Waiting for something to go through to me but nothing is happening. As if there is a brick wall blocking everything trying to sink in. 11 pm. My eyelids start to weigh on me with a surprisingly crushing weight. Nothing is working so it is best I just go to bed.

The day comes. I don’t remember anything I was looking at the night before. This isn’t good. The Spanish test comes and I struggle through it. Nothing I studied helps. But now it’s in the past. Eyes on the future. I try studying during lunch but the words on the page don’t come to life. They still are just words on a page. The math test was terrible. Nothing made sense to me. I kept getting hit by waves of anxiety every time the teacher called how much time there was. Just words on a page but at least now it’s in the past.

I ask my teacher what I can do about the test, and if there is any way I can get some extra credit for doing corrections. She tells me it’s in the past. I can’t change what happened in the past but I can learn from it. I can learn what I did wrong in the test and apply it to the future. The past.

When I come home from school, I’m too tired to do anything. I slowly drag across the living room and a picture catches my eye. It’s always been there but I’ve never paid much attention to it. A picture of my grandma. I’ve only met her when I was one and I don’t remember anything about her. Under the picture says “Agnes Santos.” The name of my grandmother. Her maiden name which I didn’t know anything about.

My mom tells me I get my fighting spirit from her. This isn’t just a picture of the past. It is a part of me that I inherited. A part of my family. A part of me that keeps going even if I fail a test. A part of me that learns from the past and becomes better.

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“90 minutes” by Will Rutola

It's the first day of spring break, a Saturday. I am in Las Vegas with Hawaii Soccer Academy participating in the Player's Showcase tournament where scouts from across the nation are watching. However, this story starts a few months back. It is December of 2022 and my coach emails me and two of my teammates with an opportunity that I couldn't pass up. My two teammates and I had been invited to play in a tournament called the Player's Showcase with another team from Hawaii called Hawaii Soccer Academy, or HSA. I had never guest played for another team before so I knew that this was going to be an unforgettable experience for me. Fast forward to the Friday of spring break, our first game. We play a team called Laguna United FC, and we find out that this team is ranked #2 in Southern California so we go into this game very scared. However, we pull out a tie and we are confident going into the next two days of games that we need to win. Now, it is Saturday and we have two games today. Our first game is at 8 in the morning so we all get up out of our hotel early, around 6 am. Matched up against another California team we start warming up and getting ready for the game. We fight hard throughout and in the end, we tie 1-1. This meant that we needed to win the night game on Saturday if we wanted a chance at winning the tournament. It is now nighttime, game time. A must-win game is upon us, and we are matched up against New Mexico Soccer Academy. The game starts and we are even at 0-0 for at least 40 minutes until we get scored on once right before half. Our confidence drops tremendously going into halftime. Our coach has some strong words for us and reiterates the idea of duration to us, soccer is a game of duration, and whoever can play the best throughout the full 90 minutes will be the winner. Duration is something that our coach had been preaching to us over every team meeting we had in the past two days. Now, going into the second half, there are 45 minutes left to play and we walk in with a great mentality. We know we deserve to win this game. I take a moment to take in the atmosphere, awesome field, dark out, lights on, great weather, with friends, it's my time. 5 minutes into the second half, one of my teammates dribbles through a few defenders, crosses it across the face of the goal and it is put in the back of the net by another teammate. At this point, we are soaring, we are tied 1-1, we are dominating. another 35 minutes go past, and a fight breaks out. I slide tackled one of the opponents and got the ball and then his foot. The kid started to yell and cry to the ref who ended up giving me a yellow card. It is now the 85th minute and we need to win this game to have a chance at winning. Our defense wins the ball off of the free kick and blasts it down the field. Our striker, Jadyn, dribbles a few defenders and tried to get a shot off; however, it is blocked by their defense and the ball falls to me. I take a touch to my right, setting myself up for a right-footed shot. A defender lungs towards my right so I pull the ball back and touch it forward to the left. I then cock my left foot back and shoot with all the power I have. The ball deflects off a defender and falls in the bottom left corner of the net out of the reach of the keeper. We had won the game with that kick, and in celebration, everyone piled on top of each other and we celebrated in front of the New Mexico bench.

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“Kaimake Loop” by Will Rutola

I've always lived on Kaimake Loop, a small neighborhood in Kailua. The same house, 15 years. A living room, three bedrooms, three baths, a kitchen, and a den. By no means is it modern nor is it outdated. It was constructed long before my sister and I were born, however, we renovated it. We made the house a home, we turned what was their into ours—thousands of memories bound within our four walls. We lived far from trouble, we lived far from school too. This led to long car rides with my sister listening to music- these are the days I remember. Days where my sister would take me to Bee & Tea, days where the beach looked nicer than homework for us. Now, our house is dull, filled with only three people now, my sister started her own life.

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“Untitled 1” by Charlie Parsons

A language that I have a connection with would be Filipino. Both of my parents are from the Philippines, thus it would be the language that I am closest with. A large majority of my encounters with the Filipino language would be in my household or in the Philippines itself. One particular encounter that has stuck with me for many years now is the time I had gotten sick in he Philippines and needed to go to a doctor. Something that I should say now is that I don’t now how to speak Filipino even though I am surrounded by it on a daily basis. This story begins in Manila, the capital of the Philippines. I was eight years old, and had eaten a bad egg. My stomach was in shambles, and I was in disarray, so off to the hospital I went. All the nurses and doctors spoke Filipino and English, but with their accents it practically meant nothing to a young confused child who only spoke English from the states. Neither my mom or dad was with me on the way to the hospital, I was accompanied by one of the maids from my grandparents house where I was staying. When we arrived at the hospital we checked in under my grandparents' healthcare. Something that people should know about the Filipino healthcare The system is very organized, if you are from the Philippines. The heart of this story comes when me and the maid become separated for a brief period of time, that somehow felt like forever. The issue was when I had to answer the nurses questions before I met with the doctor. To this day I honestly have no clue what she was asking me, but the emotions I felt, I certainly knew. I felt scared, then mad as time progressed. Question after question, I kept shaking my head. I remember something about numbers, my height, my age, I had no clue. Finally, it was my saving grace, the maid had returned from the bathroom after what felt like being frozen in time. The maid was helpful in translating my physical feelings, and so off I went on my merry way with some laxatives. This story continues each and every day I have encountered with Filipinos in the Philippines, but I have slowly learned how to adapt and pick up on small things That helps to understand what is going on in the hustling and bustling world of the Philippines. A short side note about me and Filipino, my mom once attempted to teach me how to speak the language in hopes of me being able to communicate with her, and the rest of my family. However, I was very reluctant to accept the idea. That has since come to bite back in the butt because now whenever my parents want to talk behind my back they can whenever they want. Especially when it comes to things I usually want to know about. So that is just my short story about me and an encounter with a Filipino as a child.

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“Untitled 2” by Charlie Parsons

There was a time that I had to race against the clock, this story takes place last year in mid May. The end of the year was approaching and math was my biggest struggle. The math class was structured uniquely, following a self paced timeline for assignments and quizzes. This meant that students had the choice when to work, as well as when to slack off and watch Youtube. It's around the middle of May and I am behind on 5 lessons. Meaning that I wouldn't know how to do a large portion of the semester test, as well as tank my overall grade. I did the math (I usually don't), and I had 4 days before I had another lesson, which requires the previous 5 to be understood to complete. The problem with those 5 lessons isn't only that I've put them off, I just didn't understand how to do them. It's not like I didn't try at all, I definitely did, but even I knew I didn't put in my full effort. I had Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. The first obstacle I encountered was my after school activities. Tuesdays and Thursdays I had sailing after school, from 4 till 6:45, I would get home shower and sleep. So that really meant that I had 2 days. I scanned my schedule like a copier machine for all breaks and windows in hopes to find as many bits of time. My largest breaks were lunch alternating from 40 minutes to an hour. The other times I had time to do math was in math, which I had every other day for an hour. All in all I had 5 hours, 20 minutes, and 2 days after school to get caught up. I was already halfway through the first assignment of the 5, and I partially understood it. I finished it in a short lunch, the second lesson I got help from a friend in math that Monday afternoon. Things were moving quickly and I was even ahead of my set schedule. I had even planned to start more that Monday afternoon, but before school got out I had gotten a text from my mom telling me there was a change in plan and I had to go out do errands with her until the late evening. It didn't throw as much of a wrench in my plans as I had previously thought, I still had three days to do three lessons. Less work got done on Tuesday, I was losing focus and motivation. Only did half a lesson, down to 2 days with 2 and a half lessons left. Wednesday really did feel fast, I was working but not fast enough to catch back up to my same pace. I had only finished the prior lesson and barely started the next. Almost 2 lessons and 1 lunch period to do them, I decided I would wake up earlier and do one before school and one during, simply. So I had thought, I slept through my alarms and only woke 30 minutes earlier than usual. The time still helped me in the end though, that Thursday I worked harder than I ever had. Yet I didn't know why, I didn't know why I was trying so hard. I mean I knew it was because I had to go to school, but why did I care so much in that one moment?

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“Untitled 3” by Sean Clark

Kala-multiple different heritages, I am Hawaiian, Spanish, White and more. I am almost a quarter Hawaiian with my mom being over have and my dad having a little bit of it in him as well. But I feel I have never truly understood it. I know people say "Oh its your language" or heritage but I feel I don't really have any idea of what I am talking about. I feel like I am a part of a loving family, but not actually a part of it at the same time. My mother always tries to get me to go to Maui with her to see her family and experience what she experienced growing up. I have been there before, it's nothing like the life I have here. It is much different, there is no wifi, cell phones or young life where I would be staying. My grandparents are would you call old school, they don't own phones, they barely drive and my grandpa only eats what he catches or his friends catch. In my house I have an abundance of Hawaiian artifacts lying around my house, with little to no idea what it is or what it means.

The first artifact is a large painting with this random old lady waterfalling water out of an "Ipu". An Ipu is something that is used to hold water, and carry water from place to place. She is devouring the water like she has not drank anything for days. Her face was as dreadful as the saddest person you can imagine. The ancient Hawaiians used to use these quite a bit in the ancient old days. In the 3d grade I actually got to make one of these and it was actually extremely difficult to create. It really makes me reflect on how these people used to live many years ago and how they really didn't need many of the things we have now. The painting is one of those paintings that shares so much just through an image, it shares a story. In her story it shows how maybe thirsty or dehydrated she must be to be just inhaling the water. Maybe she was super thirsty and needed water?Maybe she just had a long day?There are so many different scenarios of what may have happened.

Another thing I have in my house that represents old Hawaii is two very very large paddle oars. They are about 7-8 feet long and hang up on the wall by my couch. It's pretty crazy to think that we went from paddling canoes with these paddles to having motorized boats that can almost drive themselves and require very little man power. In a way I think it's important to remember where we came from and in some way honor our past. Like maybe use the canoes and remember how it once was. These paddles are crazy to think were once used, because all I have ever known is using motor boats. The people that paddled these must have been as strong as a giant and as big as a statue.I have only once or twice actually been in one and paddled around. I am from Hawaii and barely even use the very things my ancestors used. Is looking at these artifacts and representation of the disconnection I have to my heritage? How do I change?

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“Untitled 4” by Sean Clark

My name was not always Kala, before that it was Sean. I am not the only one in my family with the name Sean. My dads name is Sean and a couple people and my family's name is also sean. Some people like to call me junior, all I say is absolutely not. My name was originally sean, my sister thought when I was very young the name wasn't quite for me. One day when we were driving we saw the license plate in front of us was named Kala. My parents all thought it was a message from god saying it was meant to be. They thought it was like a lightning strike and it was directly from god. My new name was Sean Kala Clark. So I go by my middle name. I prefer not to have the same name as my father. We would always get confused with each other. Some people have names as long as sentences, I like having a short name. It makes it easier for me. Having a Hawaiian name is tough though, when people from the mainland try to pronounce my name it sounds like they are trying to pronounce an element on the periodic table. They just get it completely wrong. Although it is hard to pronounce, it gives me some originality. It is what makes me, me.

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Author Statements

Charlie Parsons

Two strategies that I used when writing my vignettes were figurative language and key details. Here is a snippet of ”Untitled 2” by myself, “I scanned my schedule like a copier machine”

(Parsons Untitled 2). The key details portion is from “Untitled 1” also by myself. Here it is, “I felt scared, then mad as time progressed. Question after question, I kept shaking my head” (Parsons Untitled 1). Those are two of the authorial and literary devices I used in my vignettes.

The first art piece that I made was of a paddle board and a paddle for Kala. This was for the vignette about his history with Hawaiian cultures and artifacts. I used an iPad and sketchbook app, to manipulate regular shapes like squares and circles to make a paddle board. The other art was a photo of the back of Kala’s ID, the photo shows us both of his names, Sean and Kala.

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Author Statements

Kala Clark

In my vignette about my disconnection with my culture, I used multiple metaphors and analogies to describe certain things that needed to be described in a more descriptive way. In my vignette about the origin of my name is used. One analogy to describe people with names that are extremely long. In the vignette about the disconnection with my culture I described large men being able to paddle big boats as- “strong as a giant and as big as a statue”(Clark)(Untitled Disconnection) The next analogy I use was in my vignette about the origin of my name, I describe long hawaiian names as sentences and people trying to pronounce hawaiian names“Some people have names as long as sentences”, “when people from the mainland try to pronounce my name it sounds like they are trying to pronounce an element on the periodic table”( Clark)(Untitled Origin) These analogies and metaphors are used to describe certain things to make it more exciting.

I made one drawing for the author-Charlie Parsons. And another one for the author Will Ruotela. For the author-Charlie, I made a drawing of the filipino flag. I did this because in Charlie's Vignette, he wrote about being in the philippines and not having much connection to his family their or his language or heritage. For Will’s vignette, I drew a soccer player kicking a goal with a score board. I drew this because in his vignette he wrote about a specific soccer game.

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Author Statements

Gabe: In my writings titled “Me” and “Past”, I use many literary devices such as metaphors and foreshadowing. In the text I use metaphors like, “[The expectation is] a wild undercurrent waiting for me to make a wrong move and sweep me under every chance it gets ” (Edamura Me). I also use metaphors like “ [My last name is] a blood promise to always be there for them” (Edamura, Me). These all are examples of metaphors because they obviously aren’t an undercurrent or a promise, but they describe and emphasize the point I’m trying to make. I also use foreshadowing, such as, “The past? How often do we even need to talk about the past? I always hear about the future and the now. Never think of the past” (Edamura Past). This is an example of foreshadowing because it casts the idea that I later on realize that the past is important.

My art pieces describe the vignette of Will’s writings “90 minute” and “Kaimake Loop.” For “90 minute,” I drew a final scoreboard one second from finishing the game representing the game and the final crunch time. I drew a bomb connected to the scoreboard to represent the time tension in the game. I colored in only the tip for the bomb to highlight and bring more attention to the idea of the tension. For “Kaimake Loop,” I drew a front porch to his house since his writing was based around his home. The main theme of his story was about how his home is a special place so I colored in the front door mat to bring attention to it. I wrote there is no place like home, on the mat since it is a common doormat saying and it relates to the story. I colored the doormat to draw attention to it and added the color of the bush to make it feel more lively and homely.

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Author Statements

Will:

I used various literary devices to enhance my writing in my vignettes about my childhood home and my time-crunched story. In my vignette about my house, I say “we made the house a home, we turned what was their into ours,” (Ruotola Kaimake Loop). In this passage, I use comparing and contrasting to help describe the idea that the house is really my family’s. In my other vignette, about my soccer game, I describe my surroundings by saying, “I take a moment to take in the atmosphere, awesome field, dark out, lights on, great weather, with friends, it's my time” (Ruotola 90 minutes). I use the imagery in this passage to give the reader an idea of the environment that surrounded me.

I made drawings for the author Gabe Edemura. His two vignettes were about his name and a time when he struggled with time management. For the vignette about his name, I decided that a picture of him would best represent his vignette. For his other vignette, the one about his time management problems, I drew a desk with a clock showing 11:00 pm and two papers graded as F’s because he said that he failed his two tests.

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The Boring Color of Before by Gabe, Charlie, Will, Sean