Pointer Press December 2023

Pointer Press december 2023

CONTENTS STUDENT LIFE

4

OPINION

6

LOCAL NEWS

12

SPORTS

16

ADVICE

18

ENVIRONMENT & SUSTAINABILITY

20

POP CULTURE & FASHION

22

CREATIVE WRITING

24

Point Loma High School’s NJROTC

Anna Wang & Danya Do Besides the bustle within the scope of JROTC, PLHS students in this program also have enjoyed numerous volunteering events. At local elementary school festivities, such as the annual

Loma

Portal

Monster

Bash

and

Silvergate

Spooktacular, cadets from the program could be seen setting up for the night, when they were stationed to help make food, carnival games, and other attractions fun for the kids. When the night ended, cadets stayed to ensure the schools would look just as spotless as when they arrived. During November, students raised food for the San Diego Food bank as part of the unit’s annual Holiday Food Drive. Each day at Stump’s Family Market, students would organize and participate in shifts to collect non-perishable foods. Last year, over 3,000 pounds of goods were collected! A sophomore cadet says he was “grateful to help those less fortunate” this holiday season. PLHS’s NJROTC has also made the news recently marching in the Veterans Day Parade to commemorate our veterans.

NJROTC is an acronym that stands for Navy Junior Reserve Officers’ Training Corps, a federal program with the aim of developing high school students into responsible citizens and exceptional leaders. Half a million students are currently enrolled in JROTCs all over the country. Founded in 1967, Point Loma’s NJROTC program is proud to represent a portion of these numbers and support our community.

JROTC functions as a regular class. Retired Lieutenant Commander Pete Field and retired Senior Chief Petty Officer Andy Lista teach students from all grade levels to be the best version of themselves. The Navy’s motto is Honor, Courage, and Commitment, and students in NJROTC are taught to emulate these qualities the instant they first walk into the classroom.

Two days of the week are spent for instruction, two for physical training, and Fridays for uniform inspections. Cadets can earn officer

roles

and

advance

their

rank,

giving

them

the

opportunity to take initiative and learn how to lead others.

Speak to any student on their favorite aspect of the program and they will each list something different. Cadets enjoy a variety of activities and club-like teams, allowing every student to find their niche in the program. Teams include drill, academics, archery, and everything from an esports, choir and drone team. There is even an orienteering team and an athletics team for cadets to stay healthy. These teams, run by students, compete against other high school JROTCs across the state.

One freshman cadet talked about her first impression of the program, saying, “I have experienced an incredible amount of support, kindness, and compassion from all of the cadets I have talked to. …I’m truly grateful for all the encouragement and love they’ve given me.” Whether it is friendships, opportunities, or volunteering that students like the most, all are grateful for the program and for all it has taught them. At its very core, NJROTC is a community, one that finds its roots in the care and love of every past and present cadet, parent, and instructor, and is dedicated to supporting both the future of the students and school for years to come.

Opinion

How We Parks, and With Them

Think About What We do

Ian Sturak

It’s perhaps the twilight of the era of parks.

Green space, in general, is vanishing, as it's ever-more covered by layers upon layers of industrialized asphalt. Those spaces that remain are increasingly privatized, being sold away from public ownership. It would seem that society is, slowly but surely, releasing parks from its grasp.

And yet, this presents a conundrum. After all, parks aren’t looked upon malignantly. Scarcely do you find one who has a bad opinion of them. Then again, scarcely do you find one who really thinks about parks at all until they’re questioned about it, in which case they’ll vaguely respond with fond memories.

Though it’s certainly not a bad position to occupy within the zeitgeist of the modern world, it’s certainly not the most advantageous either. It’s a position that’s slowly abandoning

It comes down to a simple dichotomy: our depictions of

green spaces entirely, letting them become a relic of the past.

parks

It’s a position that I suppose scarcely anyone would ever admit

experiences. When shown in movies, parks are often entirely

to having, and yet one that exists all the same as a collective

empty. They’re great green spaces where the protagonist can

derivation of human thought. It’s a position, I might argue, that substantially undervalues just exactly what a park is.

And yet, this presents a conundrum. After all, parks aren’t looked upon malignantly. Scarcely do you find one who has a bad opinion of them. Then again, scarcely do you find one who really thinks about parks at all until they’re questioned about it, in which case they’ll vaguely respond with fond memories.

Though it’s certainly not a bad position to occupy within the zeitgeist of the modern world, it’s certainly not the most advantageous either. It’s a position that’s slowly abandoning green spaces entirely, letting them become a relic of the past.

It’s a position that I suppose scarcely anyone would ever admit to having, and yet one that exists all the same as a collective derivation of human thought. It’s a position, I might argue, that substantially undervalues just exactly what a park is.

tend

to

meander

rather

far

from

our

actual

walk fully alone, contemplating the nature of things. There’s never any hustle or bustle. When shown in this way, it becomes conceivable to our minds that parks are in fact just a waste. Though they’re romantic in the movies, their collision with reality seems to make us think less of them.

Of course, parks are really nothing like this. They’re hardly anything but hustle and bustle, filled with people of all ages enjoying different amenities. Parks are one of the last true common spaces that exist. In a world that’s so rigidly hierarchical, where all land must be owned by one and all property must be neatly packaged off to the highest bidder, parks are a form of solace - a uniquely shared place.

The park of the movies is beautiful - an isolated scene, a small bit of nature plucked from the outside world. But I fear that in letting this define our conception of green space, we have taken for granted what else it offers us. We have taken for granted its ability to bring people together. We have taken one of the last few items of common heritage and collective stewardship and, without a thought, sold it all off because we have forgotten, I fear, what it is to own in common. In believing ourselves to be strolling alone through the grass and trees of the last true green spaces we have left, we forget those who walk along besides us.

Daredevils: Why are Some People Attracted to Danger?

Natalie Morales Haskell

The world watched in awe as Alex Honnold dangled nearly 3000 feet above the ground, relying solely on his skill and strength. In 2017, Honnold became the first person to solo a grade VI route on Yosemite’s El Capitan. The climber’s journey to this incredible feat was shown in the Oscar winning film Free Solo. While watching Honnold's risky ascent, viewers felt terror with each maneuver. Yet Honnold remained calm and composed in this dance between life and death. Is there something separating Honnold from the anxiety-ridden viewer?

Honnold, notably, does not view his brain as unique from the average man. Rather, he credits his calm demeanor to years of mental conditioning and experience climbing. In his Ted X speech, he describes how he “worked to cultivate that mindset through visualization,” imagining both the maneuvers, texture of the mountain and the emotional component of the climb. He adapted to performing under high stakes conditions out of necessity, as climbing requires an immense amount of focus.

When addressing how he managed his temperament, he said “preparation is what stops fear.”

A number of psychological factors may contribute to one’s adventurous

personality.

The

personality

trait

which

psychologists call “novelty seeking” is exhibited in individuals prone to risky behaviors. Novelty seeking, also known as neophillia, is a preference for the new, the “novel,” and the unknown. Individuals with this trait tend to be attracted to more dangerous activities, such as extreme sports, drinking, or drug usage. However, it is associated with creativity as well.

Many have pinpointed dopamine as the culprit behind novelty seeking and increased risk-taking. Dopamine, the “pleasure

chemical,”

is

a

neurotransmitter

which

communicates messages between neurons. Studies suggest that the dopamine systems in the brains of thrill-seekers differ from those of non-thrill-seekers. In high-risk situations, dopamine can bring reward and motivation through an It does beg the question, however, as to what drives people

intoxicaticating high.

such as Alex Honnold to undertake these challenging life-risking endeavors in the first place? Why do some feel the need to

One possible explanation for the differences in dopamine

tackle danger head on rather than flee the other direction? The

responses could be traced to monoamine oxidase B. This

average person would take one look at El Capitan and see a

enzyme is responsible for breaking down dopamine. The less

death wish. Others may picture themselves climbing the mountain, but none would think of it as a plausible feat. Yet when Honnold laid eyes upon this 3000 ft. challenge, he not only saw possibilities - he found motivation. It inspired him to advance his training, both mentally and physically, and eventually conquer the beast. And Honnold isn't the only one.

Every year, about 800 people attempt to summit Mt Everest, 2000 people BASE jump, and 40,000 Americans skydive.

monoamine oxidase B, the more dopamine rushes in. Another factor may be traced to genes. In 1996, scientists identified the D4 dopamine receptor gene, nicknamed the “novelty seeking gene.” It provides the code to a type of dopamine receptor which reduces the anxiety linked to risky behavior.

However, findings have been inconsistent, as only half of the 18 studies done since 1996 have found any quantifiable connection between this gene and thrill-seeking behavior.

SOUP

A massive recent study has suggested that dopamine is not the key player in the behavior of an individual - instead, it comes down to the amount of gray matter in the brain.

The study, conducted by the University of Zurich's Gokhan Aydogan, collected the brain scans and genetic data of over 12,000 people. The research utilized the UK Biobank, which has biometrical data on over 500,000 volunteers aged 40 to 69. Researchers looked at self-reported smoking, drinking, sexual promiscuity, and driving over the speed limit behavior to get a metric of risky behavior. They used data from over 12,000 people of European descent, making a connection between total gray matter volume and risk-tolerance. The findings suggest that lower gray matter volume is correlated with higher risk-tolerance.

SENTIMENTS: A Talk with a Soup Enthusiast

Grey matter is a type of neuronal tissue responsible for basic

functions

such

as

muscle

control,

Isabelle Zarrin

sensory

perception, and decision making. To hone in on these findings, the researchers went on to identify specific regions of the brain with the strongest relationship between risk-taking and grey matter volume. They found relationships in the amygdala (responsible for regulating emotions such as fear and aggression), the hippocampus (responsible

for

forming

new

memories),

and

the

cerebellum (responsible for balance and coordination).

behavior. While there was a correlation, researchers determined that grey matter in these regions only explained 2.2% of the genetic disposition towards risky behavior. There are still many unanswered questions, as the findings suggest that biological aspects beyond the brain are also at play. Another key distinction that must be made that

between

disposition.

environmental

Scientists

hope

to

factors

and

further

clarify

comfort intertwine, I dove into the flavorful world of soups with a special focus on Point Loma High’s very own passionate connoisseur, Joshua Yochum. Rooted in familial ties, Yochum can trace his fascination all the way back to his grandfather's love for soup, a sentiment that has

However, grey matter is not the sole cause of risky

is

In the heart of the holiday season, where warmth and

genetic this

distinction with a new collaboration, the Brain Imagining and Genetics in Behavioral Research Consortium, which will pursue interdisciplinary branches of topical research

transcended generations. As Yochum explains, soup has simply “...always been important to [his] family.” As he shares cherished memories, from the thrill of adding seemingly obscure ingredients to beloved soup recipes to the unexpected delight of receiving a PS3 alongside a bowl of clam chowder, it becomes evident that, to Yochum, soup is more than a quick meal—it is woven into the fabric of his life. As I unraveled the depths of his soup preferences, his favorite dining spots, and the simple-yet-profound joy that soup brings to this dedicated, self-proclaimed enthusiast, I grew to share Yochum's hope: that, through his personal anecdotes and opinions, he will "...inspire a deeper appreciation for soup within everyone who reads this.”

analysis.

Yochum's enthusiastic journey unfolds with vivid memories

While a number of factors have been found, the mystery of

of fond soup experiences, where each spoonful carries the

human behavior has not truly been uncovered. In time,

weight of cherished family history and personal nostalgia.

further scientific progress may reveal why daredevils like

When fighting in WWII, soup was the ultimate source of

Honnold continue to risk their lives for a reward that most

comfort

others would never be compelled to experience.

connection to soup inspired Yochum's own narrative,

for

Yochum’s

grandfather.

This

wartime

creating a familial tradition that also extends to his father and grandmother. The allure of clam chowder, particularly from the now-closed Joe's Crab Shack, holds a special place in Yochum's heart, as he nostalgically recounts, "My mom worked at Joe’s Crab Shack in PB before it shut down, and their chowder was incredible. I would beg my mom on my knees to bring me soup home, and the deepest sadness I ever felt was on the days when she wouldn’t bring it."

As Yochum reflects on more of his favorite soup spots, from the best clam chowder at South Beach Bar and Grill to the guilty

You Need to Listen to Christmas EveL ASAP

pleasure of Panera's broccoli cheddar soup, it becomes clear that his enthusiasm for soup is a journey that transcends the culinary—it's a celebration of life's simple joys, one spoonful at a time.

As he reminisces about a cherished soup-related memory, Yochum recalls a moment from when he was just six years old.

"I was eating clam chowder and my dad came home with a PS3. I

Ella George

remember eating the soup as he explained how to use the PS3, and it was the most shocked I’d ever been, like ‘I got a PS3 and I get to eat soup?’ It was the best thing I’d ever experienced," he fondly recounts. This intersection of comfort food and unexpected joy illustrates the profound impact soup has had on his life, becoming more than a bowl of broth, but a backdrop for unforgettable moments.

Tired of hearing the same slow songs about snow over and over again? It’s time for a new kind of Christmas: An EveL Christmas. For the spirit of the season, look no further than Stray Kids, a talented (as well as gorgeous) 8-member Kpop group consisting of Bang Chan, Felix, Changbin, Seungmin, Han, Lee Know, I.N, and Hyunjin, has the best modern-day Christmas songs. Titled “Christmas EveL,” “24 to 25,” and “Winter Falls,” these songs uniquely explore the holiday season.

A large reason why it's time for everyone to start listening to Stray Kids Christmas songs is that the same classic tunes play on a loop every year. People are tired of hearing others sing along to “All I Want For Christmas is You” and other Christmas standards. A Vulture article titled, “‘Tis the Season for Mariah Carey to Set Yet Another Record,”

As I spoke more with Yochum, his approach to creating soup recipes revealed to be delightfully spontaneous. "Most times, I just throw whatever I can find in a pot and heat it up with some broth honestly," shedding light on his creative and experimental

blogger Jennifer Zhan states that “the hit track [had] the most single-day streams on Spotify’s global chart: …21.273 million streams [on] Christmas Eve, [2022].” The music video has also garnered 479 million views since 2020.

cooking style. Yochum's soup-making process emphasizes that anyone can whip up a delicious and hearty soup with minimal

In contrast, the music video for “Christmas EveL” has 143

effort. His favorite secret ingredient? A chicken stock made from

million views, accumulated since its release in 2021.

scratch, underscoring his belief that chicken adds a superior

“Christmas EveL” is highly underrated when compared to

flavor profile to soups compared to other ingredients, like beef stock. Yochum's laid-back yet flavorful approach to crafting soups not only reflects his love for the culinary craft but also encourages others to embrace the joy of improvisational cooking, making each pot of soup unique.

In concluding the interview with Yochum, it became clear that his passion for soup is more than a culinary preference—it's a gateway

to

beloved

memories,

familial

traditions,

and

unexpected delights. From the echoes of his grandfather's wartime connection to the simple joy of enjoying clam chowder while unwrapping a PS3, Yochum's journey through the world of soups is filled with flavors, warmth, and a deep sense of nostalgia. As he continues to embrace the spontaneity of his creations, Yochum invites us all to appreciate the beauty of a well-crafted soup and to find joy in the simplicity of a bowl that exceeds seasons and generations. For Yochum, every spoonful is not just a taste of soup; it's a celebration of life's flavors.

“All I Want For Christmas is You.” It’s time to branch out to K-pop. Expand your mind; maybe music about Christmas sung by eight handsome, god-like men with an incredible beat is just better. (It is.) “

“Christmas EveL” is the #1 Christmas song, because it will make you want to get up and dance. We aren’t falling asleep on the couch at 7 P.M. while listening to “Winter Wonderland” this year.

It's time to dance so hard and so much while listening to “Christmas EveL” that you are sweaty enough to need to shower before bed. As an added bonus, being clean and fresh on Christmas day is quite pleasant.

The song is also funny, with lines like “Jack Frost coming for y’all, run run.” Family members of all ages will see the humor in it. What’s more astonishing is their lyrical wordplay. Felix is especially clever when he sings, “Feliz Navidad, Feliz Navidad, I can feel the evil coming but Felix, never bad.” Such a genius!

Also, his voice is like candy for your ears! The whole song is about how annoying winter is, and that Christmas is actually pretty lame, which is hilarious and unique. If, for some strange reason, you think that isn’t funny, just listen to the beat. It is amazing, and, if you don’t speak Korean, then you won't even understand it anyway.

The music video for “Christmas EveL” is even more marvelous than the song. It starts off with the problem that Santa can’t deliver presents, so the members of Stray Kids need to fill in for him. They get the job done, but they are kind of bad at it. There is a scene where they are running around getting presents from a convenience store and it is ridiculous. Changbin, one of the members, gets frozen by a gust of wind coming from the ice box. Lee Know knocks over some blocks and there raises his head with a cat filter on. It is crazy, and very entertaining. When they finally go to deliver the presents, they spiral off a cliff!

They try to deliver a present to a little girl and she immediately recognizes that they aren’t Santa, plus they have trouble finding what she wants. This music video is a true Christmas comedy.

So go treat your senses and listen to the song “Christmas EveL.”

If the upbeat “Christmas EveL” doesn’t work for you, there's “24 to 25,” a slow and sweet song about spending Christmas together. The lyric, “I want you to stay for Christmas,” is so loving, how could you not feel warm inside? Imagine spending Christmas with eight beautiful men who just want you to stay with them for Christmas. This song is perfect if you want to get rid of any lonely feelings you have, because you can listen to Stray Kids sing with their beautiful voices and feel complete.

The music video for “24 to 25” is warm and heartfelt. For example, Felix bakes cookies! What’s better than cookies baked by the dazzling, jaw-droppingly gorgeous Felix? Nothing, absolutely nothing. In the music video, Bang Chan is reading a book with the cutest glasses on. Wouldn’t it be the sweetest thing to cuddle up with Bang Chan and read with him on Christmas Eve? It very much would. Changbin’s little videos he records are even more adorable. The stickers he puts on his face are so heartwarming and the little red antlers he is wearing are too! It's such a happy music video and so worth watching if you want to have a cheery Christmas.

Lonely Christmases have a place in the Christmas EveL album too. I cannot listen to “Last Christmas” one more time because I am so sick of it, but luckily there is an even better melody that captures the same sadness of spending Christmas without someone you once loved: “Winter Falls.” It's the perfect song for a lonely Christmas and it makes your heart feel sad in a very good way. Don’t even try to ask me why I think it feels good to feel sad if you like listening to “Last Christmas.” The repetition of “I loved you, loved you, loved you” hits so hard. It's impressive how simple words like that can be so impactful.

Missing someone who doesn’t deserve to be missed is so incredibly sad and bitter at the same time, and that's what makes it so perfect. As the song continues, it turns into a feeling of healing with the line, “I’ll be okay.” Then, the song isn’t so sad anymore because they are moving on.

The music video for “Winter Falls” starts off cold and blue, with each of the members having their turn singing in a lonely telephone booth. They each have something that reminds them of whoever they are singing about - for example, Lee Know has a necklace, Seungmin has a letter, and Han has a lit match. Then at the end, Lee Know drops, then stomps on the necklace, Seungmin rips up the letter, and the flame on Han’s match turns into a line of smoke. At the end of the music video, they all set the telephone booth on fire to symbolize the end of their sadness and the finality of their grief. It's such a beautiful song and music video, and you should go experience watching or listening to it.

In addition, there is a song on the album that isn’t even about Christmas titled “DOMINO” (English Ver.)! If you don’t like Christmas, you can still have fun with Stray Kids by listening to “DOMINO.” The song is very much a hype song because it is about being the best. It’s impossible not to feel the power while listening to the lines, “...‘cause we always dominate,” and “with a little motion, get everyone’s attention.” The chorus is also catchy and super easy to sing along to, with it being just the repetition of the word ‘domino.’ Better yet, when singing it, it’s impossible not to feel hyped and ready to dance.

“Christmas EveL”, “24 to 25”, and “Winter Falls” are better songs than the Christmas songs that play in malls and on radio stations. “Christmas EveL” is perfect for an upbeat and a little bit pessimistic Christmas. “24 to 25” is wonderful for a calm and warm Christmas. “Winter Falls” is sad but beautiful for an empty and lonely Christmas. If you are ready to experience something new and absolutely wonderful, go listen to Christmas EveL now.

LOCAL NEWS

Rady’s “Lights

Children’s

the

Way”

Holiday Season

Ice

Into

Rink

the

Ava Mulno

For the past 25 years, Rady’s Children’s Ice Rink has been a great resource for Rady’s Children’s Hospital to create lasting memories for families and to collect donations that solely support their not-for-profit organization.

The profits of the ice rink go directly to the “Thriving After Cancer'' program at the Peckham Center for Cancer and Blood Disorders at Rady Children’s Hospital. Carlos Delgado, the Senior Media Relation’s Officer, explained just how special and important this event is for our community, and for cancer research. The program is designed to specifically serve patients who are two or more years post-therapy. Giving support to more than 500 children who are cancer survivors, Delago highlighted the Rady’s team and how they’re able to, “provide [cancer patients] with tools and education to advocate for themselves” and give patients hope to look forward to another holiday season.

Rady’s Hospital is the largest children’s hospital on the West Coast, as well as one of the nation’s top pediatric healthcare systems. The entirety of Rady Children’s is a nonprofit organization, relying on donations, like the money they get from the ice rink, to sustain their mission. Within their program, “Thriving After Cancer Clinic,” about 80% of children who previously suffered from childhood cancer were treated. Their “cure-rates” have led to long-term survivors, meaning Rady’s follow-ups are doing a successful job of assessing how to

So let’s support them and the children who hope for a better

improve and treat their patients' health.

future! The rink is located in the Central Promenade within Liberty Station. “We are thrilled to continue our partnership with Rady Children’s and welcome the ice rink back to Arts District in Liberty Station for its 8th year,” said Lisa Johnson, President, and CEO of NTC Foundation.

Johnson expressed her gratitude for their partnership, saying, "Its return kicks off the holiday season by bringing the community together for some holiday cheer while also helping San Diego families dealing with childhood cancer.”

The rink opened on November 16th and runs until January 7th, a perfect place to celebrate over winter break.

Early Plan for New Homeless Shelter Across Channel from Liberty Station Kate Joslin

A newly proposed plan for the construction of a homeless shelter across from Liberty Station on the abandoned 5 - acre property known as the H Barracks has received pushback from local Point Loma residents.

The lot is across the channel from the main part of Liberty Station and adjacent to the San Diego International Airport and has several vacant buildings on which demolition has already begun.

The proposed timeline of the site opening is as early as the summer of 2024. The area is bordered by Harbor Island and the Esplanade Canal, a common walking path along the waterway where many locals can be seen walking their dogs or going for a run. The plan, according to the city’s Homeless Shelter and Solutions Strategy, would include traditional shelters as well as a safe sleep parking lot with tents and a protected lot for people to sleep in their vehicles. The capacity of the potential site is what is most alarming to most Point Loma residents, an estimated 300-700 people.

Derek Falconer, a Point Loma resident, started a change.org petition to rally opposition against the proposal with some of his neighbors. In only two days the petition was signed by nearly 800 people, and a month later it was well over 2,300 signatures. The main concerns of the neighbors are how close the site is to nine local schools and the youth fields at Liberty Station. Another local Liberty Station resident, Jennifer Senn, shared her concerns, stating that “there’s women walking their dogs, feeling perfectly safe to get some exercise along the waterway, and then envision what that will look like when you put 700 homeless people right next door. The benches are going to be taken over, there’s possibly going to be paraphernalia in the playgrounds. I just think it will completely change the dynamic of this incredible community.”

Mayor Todd Gloria spoke briefly about the plan, sharing that the plan is still in “very early stages and the city plans to do comprehensive

engagement

with

area

residents.”

He

referenced the “O” Parking Lot near Balboa Park that just opened at the end of October, which is the same kind of project as the newly proposed. The Mayor also spoke out about how “homelessness is a crisis, and we need to provide safe places for people to get out of street encampments and connected with services that will help them end their homelessness. We’ve created several facilities across our city with great success – and in partnership with the communities hosting them.” As the city gains traction with the early construction stages of this site, it will be important to work together as a community to make sure that this site is providing shelter and safety to those suffering from homelessness, while still protecting our children and schools.

Ocean Beach Pier Closure Kate Joslin

The Ocean Beach pier is closed again due to damage caused by high surf early this month. The combination of big swell and extremely high king tides destroyed boards, railings, and support beams throughout the pier. San Diego lifeguards closed the pier on October 20th as a precaution during high surf conditions, and during the two weeks of initial closure the pier suffered extreme damage. The City stated that the pier will remain closed until the damage can be assessed safely after the storm season has passed, and then a timeline for reopening will be determined.

However, the locks have not stopped some from trying to get on the pier. The evening of Sunday, November 5th, police were called when about 30 people were on the pier after someone clipped the lock and opened the gate. This, coupled with the City of San Diego’s plan to replace the aging pier, has evoked a lot of emotion from OB and Point Loma locals.

Construction on the new pier is expected to start in 2026 and is estimated to cost between $40 and $60 million, according to the September city council meeting. The pier design and funding are still in question, and have become important topics for many locals. The city communications office shared that the replacement project “is still in the preliminary engineering/planning phase. This phase aims to develop the full scope of a preferred pier replacement alternative(s). This alternative(s) will address community interest, climate change and be competitive for federal and state grant opportunities.”

The preliminary planning phase is anticipated to be complete by the fall of 2023. Until then, the pier will remain closed indefinitely, and many locals are hoping that the original, beloved, pier can be reopened one more time before its reconstruction.

SPORTS

E-SPORTS AT UCSD

MEN’S BASKETBALL

There are esports teams around the world ranging amateur to professional.

A local well established team was formed by the University of California, San Diego, and is thriving with a tight knit, welcoming community. It is fully student led and everyone puts in their best effort to run it efficiently. The team coach, who doubles as a sub player, and a manager gave their perspectives on what it’s like to be a vital part of this organization.

Erin, the coach and back up player for the Navy Overwatch team, which is the equivalent to a JV team, emphasized the importance of remembering that esports teams are an “added opportunity to the school” when balancing school and games. These collegiate esports players are required to keep their grades up in order to participate, creating an extra motivation to do well in school.

This season for the men’s basketball team seems to be very promising as they are bouncing back from a less successful campaign last year. Some players to watch this year include forward Nick Freeman, with a field goal percentage of 50% with 15.8 points and 10.4 rebounds per game, and guard Trevor Dorris, shooting 45% from the field and having 5 assists per game. They have had an impressive start with a record of 7-2 as of December 12th, including destroying Hilltop High School by the score 65-20. They so far have been undefeated at home, as the student section has been lively at every home game.

He also explained the way the teams are categorized in order to make room for all kinds of players. The Navy team, as mentioned before, is the middle ground between the others. It’s competitive like the Gold team, but not as time intensive. The Gold team is essentially the varsity team and is for those who are thoroughly committed to the competitive aspect and excel greatly at the game(s) they play. On the other hand, the white team is for casual and new players to come together and have fun.

The hope is for even more student fans to attend, in order to make the game even more electric! Ideally, the next stretch of this season will be just as successful as it leads up to their senior night against Canyon Hills High School on February 9th.

Go to this game and save it on your calendar! Let’s go Pointer’s basketball!

Jinx Golden

Cross Country CIF & State Ethan Bond Both the Pointer varsity boys and girls had an incredible showing at the CIF meet. Both teams got fourth place overall. However, only the top three teams make it to state for the boys, while the girls take the top four, so our girls were the only ones to qualify for state.

The top five runners for the boys were: Ethan Levine (21st), Sebastian Palmer (22nd), Maximus Kelly (24th), Diego Cardenas-Wallenfelt (37th), and Jacob Witt (46th). The boys had a very tough competition on one of the hottest days recorded at Morley Field, yet they still came extremely close to qualifying for state. This was one of the best teams that the Pointers have fielded in awhile, and all the boys poured their hearts into this sport. Now our Pointer runners are training for the upcoming track season.

The top five runners for the CIF meet for the girls were: Isabella Ramos (11th), Sara Geiszler (19th), Nicole Witt (20th), Paige Eudy (21st), and Zoey White (33rd). As for state, the varsity girls got 15th out 25th. Our top five runners at the state level were: Isabella Ramos (12th), Nicole Witt (79th), Paige Eudy (97th), Sara Geiszler (110th), and Annie Guhse (147th). The girls’ team continued working even while other competitors were resting, and they had an incredible performance at every meet. With the CIF and State meets done, that marks the end of the cross country season. Please come out during track season to cheer your Pointers on once again, and thank you for supporting us throughout the season.

Caroline, the manager for all Navy teams, brings attention to dismantling the stereotype that those who play video games don’t develop good community relationships. She states that, “People think, oh, we just stay on our computers all day… we come out and we have communal events.”

Esports are a great way of meeting like minded people who enjoy the competitive aspect of online gaming.

Many teams put effort into creating a space where players can thrive and connect with each other off the screen in order to develop better synergy between each other.

Kody Knoblock

advice

A Scrooge’s Guide to Christmas Teagan Durbin

As we embark into the depths of December and get closer to Christmas, it’s important to remember that not everyone is the biggest fan of the holiday season. For some, myself included, the period from November to January is rough; bloated with candy-cane and gingerbread everything, all while being tortured by 24/7 Christmas music stations. Where others see cheer and joy, I see tackiness, excess, and a veneration of consumerism that has long surpassed whatever the holiday was about in the first place. Furthermore, there’s an added pressure to see family members, and airports are packed with those returning home for the holidays. While this is stressful enough, it can also be a reminder for others who are no longer at the table or the fact that there is no gathering around a table in the first place. Between all of the annoying music, tinsel, and those shifty mall Santas, Christmas is just a bit much, and if you agree with any of this, then there are some steps you can take to make getting through this time a little bit easier.

The matter of Christmas-themed music and films is an entirely other beast that feels harder to avoid each year. The best advice I can offer here is to find media that will frustrate your holidayadoring friends. This is the perfect time to insist that Die Hard is a Christmas movie, because it absolutely is. There are, of course, plenty of other films that barely qualify as festive that you could earnestly suggest watching this year, that will still enable you to view a quality picture. For example, The Shining takes place in the winter, there’s snow, and it’s all about family, Savage Steve Holland’s ‘80s camp Better Off Dead features one scene on Christmas morning, and Fellini’s Amarcord dips into winter festivities as well as the arrival of a Fascist regime. However, if you really never want to get invited to any sort of Christmas function ever again, then insist on watching John Water’s 1974 Female Trouble. Your family will watch in shock and terror as Dawn Davenport does not receive the cha-cha heels she wants for Christmas. Obviously, this is quite the extreme move, but if ruining Christmas is what you’re going for, then Female Trouble is the perfect way to achieve that.

Some things are obvious and can be acted upon individually; avoid malls at all costs, make gifts for others rather than buying them, and refrain from listening to the radio. But when it comes to balancing the enjoyment of others with your own distaste, it can be a bit of a tricky situation, especially if you find yourself in the depths of a family Christmas party this year. If you do, it is recommended that you stay busy during these gatherings.

Help out in the kitchen, pick up trash, clean dishes - anything you can do to stay moving and avoid being cornered by relatives with a different perception of personal space from your own. This will give you a reason to remain busy and excuse yourself if you ever need to duck out of a conversation. If you don’t want to go this far, you can always liberate yourself to the restroom for a quick break and no one will question you or be offended, that is if it’s not too frequent and you don’t spend a significant amount of time inside.

Finally, if gift-giving is your biggest gripe because you loathe buying things for people, proposing a white elephant exchange is by far the best approach. Shake things up by bringing a really horrible, home-made candle or just re-gift something you got last year. Regardless, there’s no more pressure to buy something nice and you’ll probably have more fun. Or you could just get your friend the cha-cha heels you know they want.

There are a lot of ways to avoid the Christmas cheer if it makes you utterly sick, but do try to contain the cynicism. The holidays are important for a lot of different reasons; just because other people love them doesn’t mean you have to and the opposite is true as well.

ENVIRONMENT + SUSTAINABILITY

How Does Pollution From Rain Affect Our Local Beaches Isa Mclaughlin

This upcoming winter, San Diego is expecting upwards of 11 inches of rainfall. Though that isn't much relative to other areas of the country, there have been around 26 inches this year already and the pollutant-filled runoff is entering our oceans and bays, making it unsafe to swim in and harming marine life as well. It’s our responsibility as locals to take simple measures to prevent trash and other pollutants from entering coastal waters and harming the marine ecosystems that we value. It’s important to preserve our biodiverse environment, which according to the Port of San Diego’s website, is home to 100 species of fish and 640 marine invertebrates.

It is important to not only preserve these marine animals’ homes, but also to maintain the water quality as well. The primary types of coastal runoff pollutants come from toxic chemicals in fertilizers, herbicides, and pesticides, oil from cars, and most of all, trash. These pollutants build up on roads over time during dry spells when there is no precipitation. When it rains, they get washed off said roads, gardens, and lawns flowing directly into the ocean, making the bay and tidepools unsafe to swim in.

In order to prevent trash, oil, and toxic chemicals from entering the water, it’s helpful to attend beach clean ups, get involved with the community, and start educating others. Sometimes when reading about global issues and pollutants it feels like there is nothing you can do, but it's important to remember that even the slightest change in you or your family's lifestyle makes a big impact in your community.

Fashion & Pop Culture

Loki Season Two Review Maggie McAteer

In 2021, riding off of the success of Wandavision which had premiered earlier in the year, Marvel Studios released the first season of Loki. In general, the season received high ratings from both critics and fans, with many praising the acting of stars Tom Hiddleston and Owen Wilson, and one reviewer from The Detroit News writing that, “He may be the God of mischief and a mass murderer but Loki knows how to show you a good time.”

Recently a second season of the show was released to lower though still generally positive - reviews. This season follows Loki (Tom Hiddleston) as he once again teams up with Mobius (Owen Wilson) in order to find Sylvie (Sophia Di Martino), a version of himself gone rogue, and Ravonna Rennslayer (Gugu Mbatha-Raw), a member of the Time Variance Authority or TVA

One thing that helps carry the series is the phenomenal soundtrack from composer Natalie Holt, who also provided the music behind Obi-wan Kenobi, Victoria, and Paddington. Holt’s synth heavy tracks provide a fantastic background for the science fiction aspects, while her use of strings gives the show’s more emotional scenes. Her track “Purpose is Glorious” from the finale is reminiscent of Son Lux’s score for 2022’s Everything Everywhere All At Once, which revolves around similar themes of the multiverse and eternity. Holt also does a great job of taking the show’s main credits theme and changing it to fit the different styles of all of the places and time periods visited in the series.

For example, when Loki and Mobius travel to 1892 Chicago, she used old-fashioned piano music to help bring the new setting to life.

who had previously tried to kill him.

The new season makes for an enjoyable watch particularly because of the great cast and characters. Tom Hiddleston’s “Loki” has long been a fan favorite villain and anti-hero, and in this season the well renowned actor once again does an amazing job of giving the character believable growth and a well

Production designer Kasra Farahni also did a fantastic job of seamlessly combining the futuristic story of the show with the historic places and times the characters visit. For the design of the TVA, or the Time Variance Authority - where much of the story takes place - Farahni leaned heavily into the retrofuturism aesthetic, citing Blade Runner’s analog future tech which he combined with mid-century modernism and brutalism. This results in a haunting feeling as the protagonists wander around the seemingly endless halls of the TVA. The retro aesthetic shines through again when one of the characters ends up in a 1982 McDonald’s. Another challenge for Farahni was recreating the 1893 Chicago World’s Fair with its iconic ferris wheel. Those scenes are draped in mostly muted browns and yellows as opposed to the TVA’s bright oranges and cool teals, providing a much needed contrast.

The bigger question is this: Can Loki save what seems to be a rapidly failing MCU? Each new movie and show seems to be receiving lower and lower ratings, with the studio rolling out the

Hiddleston

same tired plotlines and bad CGI. The first season of this show

completely brings Loki’s story full circle. Owen Wilson, too,

was one of the better products of its time and this season is

provides a well needed down-to-earth partner for the chaotic

sure to be no different; a ray of sunshine in an otherwise stormy

Asgardian god, as well as delivering many hilarious lines. This

sky. Though it does have its faults, this is clearly one of the best

season introduces Ke Huy Quan as Ourobours or O.B., creating

things to come out of Marvel Studios in a long time. The second

an instantly lovable character in the brilliant mechanic.

season of Loki is definitely worth a watch, even if you’re not a

rounded

arc.

Indeed,

in

the

season

finale,

huge Marvel fan. The series is one of the few stand alone works Of course, credit must also be given to head writer Eric Martin

in the Marvel Cinematic Universe these days, with most films

and his staff for creating a mostly captivating story. Although

and shows needing complex backstory from the other movies

much of the dialogue is compelling and there is interesting

in the MCU. However while you definitely need to watch the

character development for Loki, some elements of the story

first season, if you haven’t seen much of anything else from

leave something to be desired. Parts of the ending seemed

Marvel Studios you should fare just fine. In the meantime, let us

forced and leave viewers with a feeling of dissatisfaction due to

hope that this series does not mark the last great project of the

plot

MCU.

holes.

Some

of

the

other

characters

also

feel

underdeveloped, particularly Sylvie in this season; she was heavily focused on in season one, and the sudden lack of attention paid to her character is a bit jarring.

Grandma Got Ran Over by a Reindeer Celia Thome

I glance over at Grandpa, his eyes darting around the room, trying to find escape from the scene repeating in his mind. His hands shake furiously, and, with each movement, a jingle comes from his clothing. Sweat drips down his temple, despite the snow outside. His jaw is clenched and his brow furrowed, and I can feel the tension radiating off his round figure.

We fly to Grandpa’s house every Christmas to be with him, to help him with the struggle of the holiday, but he’s never really there. He’s haunted by that night because, well, he remembers that night better than any of us.

“Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer.”

A quiet song plays in the backdrop of Grandpa’s shadow, echoing off the cold hardwood floors and into the living room, a weak fire flickering within the brick fireplace. The rest of the house is empty, the family scurrying off to play in the snow, shop for food, anything to get away from the drag of grandpa’s mourning. I stay here. I can’t seem to leave him there, in his repeating world. I can’t seem to blame him.

I only arrived at the scene to see Grandma face-up in the snow, blood gushing from her chest, her thick clothes torn to nothing. The storm had picked up drastically, and I could barely make out the figures around me, not knowing who had come, or who could possibly help. I knew deep down there was no salvaging what was left.

“Walking home from our house Christmas Eve.” I had bent down to see her face more clearly, a slush of blood and ice seeping into my pants. A car rushed past on the road, its headlights flickering across Grandma’s stunned face, just long enough for me to see her eyes.

Only one was intact, the other hanging on the side, staring lifeless into the distance, icicles forming on her lashes, frozen tears in the corners. The pupils of both eyes seemed to grow further apart as the left one sunk deeper into what new world grandma was seeing.

“You can say there's no such thing as Santa.”

Grandpa gives a long groan from his spot on the couch, destroying himself with grief from the inside. He looks at me and I quickly avert my eyes, pretending to be interested in the hallmark movie playing on our small TV. “But as for me and Grandpa, we believe.”

Her limbs had been bent so horribly I wondered how many bones hadn’t been broken. She lay there in that horrible position, all askew, for two hours exactly. Any ambulance willing to help was too far to even bother rushing. I blurred my eyes when they finally arrived to cart her away. I didn’t want to see the details of what was in one piece. I knew they would not be going to the hospital.

“She’d been drinking too much eggnog.”

Grandpa had fallen into the snow, his muscles simply collapsing under him. He didn’t shed a tear that night, I believe it was too cold, but he didn’t move from the ground where he had fallen, not once. We parked our truck down to the road to watch him from a distance, and draped more jackets over him, horrified at what the storm could do to his weakening body. When Christmas morning had come, a dim light shining onto his swollen, raw skin, he had slowly pressed his body up and made his way to the car.

“And we begged her not to go.”

Grandpa was fully covered in Grandma's blood, kept fresh by the ice. He didn’t say a word as we drove home, he just sat staring at his frostbitten hands.

“But she’d left her medication.”

He looks down at them now. Sometimes I wonder if he ever looks away.

“So she stumbled out the door into the snow.”

His red robe piles beneath him, as he rubs the white fluff of the hem. That big belly laugh is gone. He takes a pillow to his bearded face, screaming the same words over and over. He is sobbing now and the cracks in his voice make me barely able to make out his words.

“I should have seen her.”

The Snowglobe Hannah Smith

The musty air hit me in the face as soon as I entered the threshold of my attic. It was the Christmas season again, and I was miserable. I stumbled around dusty old boxes trying to find the light switch, kicking up dust everywhere. I coughed, blinking back tears from the dust. Or was it the memories? No, it couldn’t be. We’d gotten over it. Mom’s death was over a year ago. We dealt with this, we weren’t going back, we couldn’t. I quickly switched on the light, getting a sense of my surroundings. My mother died in December. She had cancer and there was no cure, just rushed goodbyes and tears. I struggled for months, eventually going into a deep depression. My therapist helped a little, but moving really helped. I moved from my hometown and loved the sense of freedom of living on my own. However, I’ve learned that the holidays bring back unwanted memories.The sterile halls of the hospital, the staff always offering sympathy, the blue curtains by the window overlooking the gray, concrete pavilion filled with snow, the horrible ringing sound of the flatlining.

I was awoken from my daydream by a thunk. I whipped my head around, heart beating a bit faster. I looked around before I found the cause of the noise: my mom’s snowglobe. She brought it out every Christmas. It had a model of our old house in it. The glittery snow inside twinkled and shifted under the dim light of my attic. I used to adore it when I was little, always begging my mom to wind it up so the music would play just one last time. Now I can’t even bring myself to look at it. I turned away trying not to think about it. I walked around for a little longer trying to find my Christmas lights and ornaments. When all of a sudden the faint sound of music started playing. I turned around slowly trying not to panic. It was the snowglobe. All of the sudden my head felt like it was filled with a fog and I remember walking towards the snowglobe tripping over myself trying to get closer to it, my vision narrowing, and then it was all black.

I awoke on a soft, velvety couch. I turned over mumbling about how early it was. Then I slowly, and sleepily opened my eyes.

The couch was a deep maroon and the brown oak coffee table had noticeable scratches on the surface. I looked around, dazed.

It couldn’t be, it just couldn’t. I was back home. I whipped my head around now wide awake. Everything was just as it used to be, the hallway with the family portraits, the dimly lit kitchen with the window above the sink overlooking the backyard, the smell of mom’s gingerbread. I looked around baffled, I had sold the house, it was gone. I got up fighting off my sleepiness and walked straight to the front door. I grabbed the brass doorknob and walked outside.

I sleepily got up looking around. What happened? I looked down and noticed I was right where I started. Back in my childhood home, on the couch. I couldn’t go outside. I got up again and started to explore. I walked into the kitchen and the smell of gingerbread filled my nose. I looked out the window above the sink and saw that outside looked normal. The giant backyard that stretched for miles covered in layers of fluffy snow. I turned around and headed towards the hallway. I walked over soaking everything in. Looking down the hallway, I saw the recognizable rooms that brought back memories I tried suppressing. Then, I heard the front door start to open.

Frantically, I whipped my head around wondering who it was.

“I’m home!” a voice called.

I turned around with tears in my eyes. I could recognize that voice anywhere. “M..mom?” I called quietly, my voice quivering.

There she was, just as I remembered. Her golden hair peppered with gray. Her face beaming while her bright brown eyes searched for me. I stood there shocked. I felt like I was five years old again.

“What are you waiting for?” she said, an amused look coming over her face as she opened her arms waiting for a hug. I ran to her, my eyes flooding with tears. I collapsed in her arms while the familiarity of it all washed back to me in waves.

“I missed you,” I said while tears streamed down my face in rivers while I let go of her.

“I can see that,” she said with a hint of concern in her voice.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her eyes searching mine.

“I thought you were gone,” I gasped out trying not to forget to breathe.

“What?” she said with an amused look on her face. “Honey, I’ll always be here.” She began to walk over to the kitchen.

“I hope you kept an eye on my gingerbread,” she said jokingly.

“I..I..Mom?” I said, still crying. There was so much I wanted to say.

“Yeah?” she said, turning around.

“Ah..nothing. I just wanted to say I love you.” I said while my tears dried as I stopped crying.

“I love you too,” she said. “Now come on, I need help with the frosting.” I watched as she disappeared into the kitchen then everything went black.

I woke up on the attic floor. My head pounding while the familiar music of the snowglobe filled the attic. I got up in a daze. I sat on my knees while getting rid of the dizziness. I felt nauseous but I got up and looked around. Everything was the same. I didn’t remember falling asleep. I walked over to where the snowglobe was and picked it up cautiously. I looked in peering at the little house and saw something I must’ve missed.

A little figurine of a lady in the kitchen frozen in time making gingerbread.

Kinship of a Coming Christmas Danya Do

It was cold. Cold and bleak, the sheets of ivory blanketing the longdried leaves of fall and drowning the thickened pine. Hidden within the dense shrubbery of winter foliage lay a duckling, who, noticing all of this, decided that his complaining stomach was far more important than nature’s bite. Splashed with a slate gray hue and an ink-dipped head, he was a microscopic imprint in the blend of monochrome. The duckling shook his downy feathers and proceeded on his search for breakfast.

Typically, when a human comes across a duck, there will always be another one waddling with it. Because, like humans, a duck needs company, as we are social creatures and desperately want to see the same wrinkled hands and lanky limbs. The same two-legged, twofooted webbs and bills and rounded feathered bodies. And with a pair of ducks, there are a few more so that eventually, there is a gathering of ducks that create a flock. This flock will locate food together, provide safety with their numbers, and increase the odds of their survival. On a less practical level, it is companionship.

Companionship, a need so ingrained in their shriveled arteries and rapid heartbeats that it is simply…instinct.

Typically, when a human comes across a duck, there is no fleeting thought of this. There is no question or wonder of when we think of its “emotional incapacity,” not when we are far too intellectually superior to them, when we’ve yet to consider our own companions and what we’ve to get them for Christmas. The bling of yule and crimson and sage that adorn our metal empire, the radio belting Mariah Carey, frantic scurries to provide for the procrastinated giving and receiving occasion. We miss the little three-pronged footprints scattered across the snow, of ducks who have celebrated this joy of giving and receiving for the duration of their trivial existence in order to thrive.

Such is the emotional magnitude of ducks, that the very span of their lifetime depends on their camaraderie. And yet, as the lone duckling squanders happily upon his hearty meal of insects, he does not know this. There is a sense of being forsaken, that despondency that has sunken into his plumb, his instincts raging hollow with every frosty night he is alone. He feels this, has known it since his birth, but that is as far as it will go.

Later in the day, the duckling finds himself in a clearing of pure white, a great distance away from his shrubbery home. He had wandered too far, let his expedition go astray because of the peculiar flakes of snow that, most curious to him, fell from the sky and dissipated into the ground. This clearing would be an okay replacement as a home for the time being, anyway. There was a pond nearby, albeit a frozen one, and with that it meant more food. In this simpleton ponderment, the duckling failed to realize the faint jingle of song and the presence of other, far bigger beings.

He waddled over to the reeded area of the pond in hopes of fulfilling lunch. To his surprise, there was another duckling next to the large stalks, who, for some reason or another, had a comically enlarged head. It bobbled and shook, downy gray feathers stiff and hardened.

The duckling, spooked at this strange vision, crept closer and discovered that this new friend of his wasn’t just dead, but seemingly frozen from the neck down. He squawked indignantly, flapping his wings in a panic.

To his further astonishment, the other duckling didn’t have a neck at all, but was connected by a springy metal that coiled up into its bulbous head, beady eyes protruding comically out of its painted skull. The duckling sat there, feathers ruffled, as he studied the bizarre creature.

His short-lived peace was disturbed again, this time by a monstrous hand that scooped down, clutching at the other duckling with a force that shook the icicles on the reeds. The duckling, in his shock, hadn’t noticed the gargantuan trunks of bright blue fabric that was accompanied by a garbling voice.

“Dad, look! Look at the duck! Look at it!”

The duckling backed away, fearful that he was going to be scooped up the way his porcelain friend was. He shivered, the booming voice shaking the tranquility of the clearing. Clearing, he hadn’t paid much attention to his surroundings, and he lamented the situation he just got himself into.

“Theo, you’re scaring the poor thing. Give it some space. It looks like you found your toy, too.” This voice was grumbly, like when the clouds crowded the sky and produced rumbling thunder.

A whine. “But daaaad, it looks so lonely…I don’t see it’s duck friends!”

“You’re right. That’s weird.” The human with the thunder voice crouches down, eyes gentle and a little haggard, the signs of fatherhood. “I think that’s a Swedish Blue duck.”

“What’s a Swedish Blue duck?” Smaller, the other human mimics his father, plopping on the ground with glee.

“Well, Theo, a Swedish Blue duck is supposed to be a domestic breed. And before you ask, that means that they are raised by humans. For some reason, this one seems to be lost.”

The two humans fall silent after their gabber, eyes boring into the duckling. After a while, they converse between themselves, whispering into their ears that most peculiarly, were pieces of ovular cartilage protruding from their heads. The duckling came to the conclusion that they weren’t there to harm him, and slowly, a timid peep gurgled in his throat. He shuffles forward, his instinct of wishful closeness, of something to be in community with, overriding all previous apprehension.

More than anything, he wants a companion.

With a squeal and a gasp, the smaller human points ecstatically at him.

“Dad, it’s coming closer! I want to be its friend! Can we please keep it? Please? As a Christmas present?”

Large hands scoop up the duckling, encompassing him in a faint body heat. It was snuggly, a toasted warmth he hadn’t felt since the time of struggling from the cracks of his egg. Wiggling about, the duckling got to see his miniature ice world in a new perspective, saw the fluffed berry red of the hat perched on the small human’s head, white ball swinging erratically. He saw the indents of his feet, right next to the enlarged steps of his humans. The pond, vast against the shrubbery that was now so miniature. The duckling quacked his content.

“Does that answer your question?” His keeper chuckled. “We started off with a lost duck, and now we’re coming home with two.”

The bobblehead duck, smooth porcelain, was cradled in small human’s arms, the spring wobbling as they stood. As the snow crunched between their feet, the duckling heard the remnants of a song that, once faint, grew to a clear croon of chimes and festive choir. Two humans, and two ducks. The duckling was happiest of them all.

Memories of a Last Winter Anna Wang

I thought about those ducks that migrate during fall months, about their dark feathers against the sharp sky, silhouettes etched into blue and marble. I watched a small V, late in leaving, and thought of the last winter, and the winter before. My memories drifted like a settling snowglobe, soft on my shoulders, and I counted each snowflake as it landed. They will come back, one by one, as they always do - year after year after year. It was to be expected. With my mother’s name on my tongue, I waited patiently for the mallards, carried away by winter wind, to turn around and arrive with the songs of spring.

You always loved ducks, didn’t you? My brother chuckled, handing me a dumb-looking toy. Our first ever Christmas present. Grinning its yellow beak from ear to ear, the giant head would not sit still on its spring neck. Remember these? How could I not? The bobbleheads were old and cherished. Our shared prize.

The next morning, after wiping the snow off my windshield, I arrived at the retirement home. Adorned with wreaths and an army of red and green, inside, the speakers screamed holiday cheer. Festive melodies assaulted my ears, volume high as could go.

If I had ever cared during this trip, I did not anymore. I thought I wouldn’t care when I saw her. That time, as it heals all wounds, would numb me to what was to come. That if I didn’t care, it would be less painful. But having low expectations did not make the results more bearable. It never worked.

“Hi. Mom.” How do you go about saying something like this? I always started the same, and it never, never got easier. But her wayward, distant gaze told me something was off.

She looked like a stranger. She looked at me like a stranger.

And I could not - I will never - forget it. That image, that moment, shall be forever burned into the back of my eyelids, so sharp, so bright. My eyes began to throb, vision blurred, but it was still there, that look, that horrible look.

“Are you crying?”

“No--” “You can cry. Don’t feel sad.”

“I’m not.”

“Are you happy?” My mother, who did not remember me, still loved me. And God, that made it hurt even more. So I nodded. Yes, because you were smiling, and you were the sun this world revolved around.

And it burned to look at you, but I wanted to believe.

No, I’m not crying. Not yet.

I wanted to try again, just one more time, so that when I asked, “Who am I?” she would say, “my daughter.” I wanted to hear her say my name, say, “My Julia,” and say it with those honey eyes, with the laughter in her picture-perfect teeth. Even when I was small, I remembered watching the little lines around her eyes, arrows pointing to a lifelong legacy of smiling. Now, as I faced her, I could count her teeth, yes, but she wasn’t smiling. It wasn’t right.

Where is the hope we built together? All the years we’d spent together, knees in the cold dirt, hands plastered with each other, as we laid down brick after brick of anguish and arguments and apologies, fixing cracks with careful, bittersweet but forever love.

Where are the knowing glances at each other? Where are the promises we shared in our hearts? Each word left on the tip of her tongue, each name trapped behind her throat to die a dusty death, sent another wrecking-ball into our humble house.

She did not remember.

The doctors told me I’d have more time. Not wanting to count the days, but too weak to stop myself, I was worried, worried for the only thing that ever mattered: mother. Every morning I awoke in a cold sweat, another piece of my heart melted away, because of that horrible diagnosis, because of those cruel, cruel words.

The tears spilled out like the petals of a rose, and they felt just as thorny. The sobs, a choking melody, they tasted like her glossy gaze that looked right past me, as if I were made of glass. Each tear dropped like dying angels in the night. They fell with pain.

When the tears dried, my mother did not look at me like a stranger.

She opened her arms and I followed. All at once, the world revealed itself in her embrace. I used to fall asleep in her arms; I had always craved the comfort of them. Every moment that mattered and every defining memory was spent wrapped up in her love. The only constant in the universe was that this would remain the same.

Behind that mask of age and weariness, missing pages and lost moments, she listened. She had heard the strings of my heart, and she understood.

“Darling, what did you bring me?” She pointed to the large cardboard box beside me. Carrying it through the retirement home was not pleasant in the slightest. It would be all worth it, I reminded myself. One by one, I carried presents out of the box. Careful, I focused on only the wrapping paper, not daring to look at my mother and see her confusion.

“Mommy, I brought you gifts for the holidays.”

I began with the keys to my first car, her only car. It was a gray Mini Cooper with peeling stickers on the backside scratches. Once majestic, now too tired to be driven, I sank right into the seats and my hands fitted snugly on the driver’s wheel. Charming is the only word.

And then there was the hot chocolate mother kept just for our visits.

And the postcards from New Zealand. Always wanted to go, she said, knowing it was my dream. And the two from Chile and Turkey, where my brother and her three grandchildren went.

Maple syrup, my favorite.

Her grandson's first letter to Santa.

She held each image carefully, soaking in the lines and colors and faces. She opened her hands for the next, opening the gates for another wave of knowing, of nostalgia for moments she did not remember. Each snapshot immortalized a moment of those many years, creating a timeline of our lives. Of us.

“Oh, isn’t it wonderful?”

Her hands had found the bobblehead duck, and calloused fingers ran across the old porcelain edges, the way she would run her fingers through my hair, the way she welcomed me in her embrace. Lovingly.

“My children would love this.”

Your ducklings, mommy. Your ducklings did love them. Your ducklings still love you.

What was there to say? Words did not come close to the colors, to the taste.

So I started laughing, heavy laughs with my stomach. I laughed so hard tears ran down my eyes, and I laughed so long I felt the world stop, and then I kept laughing and crying, like a duck, with rolling trills and whistles and groans, until all I could hear was the flap of feathered wings, and all I saw was my mother’s smile.