Kristin Cavalieri (15)
Grey Bird
The world was growing devoid of color and personality, but Aurora was too trapped in her own skin to do anything about it. Throughout all her years of painting, she had learned that individuality makes things notable, but following the rules of art makes classics. Of course, her reserved personality—similar to that of a bird perched on a branch, observing the paths of flight around it, without ever flying itself—allowed her to see that these same principles applied to most aspects of life. She found that the more she grew up surrounded by pressure from her peers to be someone she was not, the more she felt as though that depiction of a bird was an accurate comparison. Even her best friend, Georgia Hyppous, who had always valued the heart over the mind, had
grown into a stiff being that just followed the crowd.
Individuality, art, and the things that make everyone human have died with the rise of social structure and roles.
Wilmington, Vermont, is a tiny town right on the border of Massachusetts, with a population barely exceeding 2,000 people. Being such a small town, one might not think that the latest and greatest trends of the world would be able to make an appearance
here, but mass media somehow finds a way to encroach on even the most isolated of places. Wilmington is not filled with skyscrapers, drawing lines through the clouds, like New York City, or buildings so rich with history that it’s as if every street corner has a story to tell, like Rome, but is simply little, old Wilmington. It has its own form of skylines and historical relevance, covered end to end in trees grasping with their gnarled fingers high into the air. These ancient forests blow in the wind, whispering songs of old into the ears of those observant enough to listen. Despite this rare beauty, the town was known for its tendency to conform to the masses, blending in with what others deemed to be “normal.”
When the town’s population began to grow repetitive in its events and static in its citizens, Aurora, at first, could not understand how such a thing was occurring. Yet somehow, it seemed to make perfect sense to Georgia, whose eyes were glowing and knees bouncing.
“Come on, Aurora, at least just consider it! Everyone is dying their hair, and you don’t want to be the only one left out, do you? The others will think you’re immature,” Georgia said, breathless with excitement.
The points Georgia was making left Aurora weak in the knees, with a heavy feeling beginning to build in her chest, slowly growing as if water was dripping into her heart. “I guess I could dye my hair grey, but it’s such a boring shade. It’s so dull and empty that there’s nothing special about it! There’s almost hope visible in color, so much so that it looks as if it could carry the secrets of the world, but would never share them with you,” Aurora responded, feeling the water level in her heart reach midway.
Aurora’s reluctance to dye her hair came from her dreams of becoming an artist known for the individualistic aspects of her work, while still following the known and respected rules. She wanted to walk the line between notability and likability. Giving in to the expectations of the media or falling into the habits the world shared felt like giving up that chance to stand on both sides of the issue. But still, as her heart began to overflow, she realized it was never water in her heart; it was fear. Fear that if she refused to blend in and look as bland as the rest of the town, she would be treated like Georgia used to be treated. The memories still haunted her.
Grey Bird
The world was growing devoid of color and personality, but Aurora was too trapped in her own skin to do anything about it. Throughout all her years of painting, she had learned that individuality makes things notable, but following the rules of art makes classics. Of course, her reserved personality—similar to that of a bird perched on a branch, observing the paths of flight around it, without ever flying itself—allowed her to see that these same principles applied to most aspects of life. She found that the more she grew up surrounded by pressure from her peers to be someone she was not, the more she felt as though that depiction of a bird was an accurate comparison. Even her best friend, Georgia Hyppous, who had always valued the heart over the mind, had
grown into a stiff being that just followed the crowd.
Individuality, art, and the things that make everyone human have died with the rise of social structure and roles.
Wilmington, Vermont, is a tiny town right on the border of Massachusetts, with a population barely exceeding 2,000 people. Being such a small town, one might not think that the latest and greatest trends of the world would be able to make an appearance
here, but mass media somehow finds a way to encroach on even the most isolated of places. Wilmington is not filled with skyscrapers, drawing lines through the clouds, like New York City, or buildings so rich with history that it’s as if every street corner has a story to tell, like Rome, but is simply little, old Wilmington. It has its own form of skylines and historical relevance, covered end to end in trees grasping with their gnarled fingers high into the air. These ancient forests blow in the wind, whispering songs of old into the ears of those observant enough to listen. Despite this rare beauty, the town was known for its tendency to conform to the masses, blending in with what others deemed to be “normal.”
When the town’s population began to grow repetitive in its events and static in its citizens, Aurora, at first, could not understand how such a thing was occurring. Yet somehow, it seemed to make perfect sense to Georgia, whose eyes were glowing and knees bouncing.
“Come on, Aurora, at least just consider it! Everyone is dying their hair, and you don’t want to be the only one left out, do you? The others will think you’re immature,” Georgia said, breathless with excitement.
The points Georgia was making left Aurora weak in the knees, with a heavy feeling beginning to build in her chest, slowly growing as if water was dripping into her heart. “I guess I could dye my hair grey, but it’s such a boring shade. It’s so dull and empty that there’s nothing special about it! There’s almost hope visible in color, so much so that it looks as if it could carry the secrets of the world, but would never share them with you,” Aurora responded, feeling the water level in her heart reach midway.
Aurora’s reluctance to dye her hair came from her dreams of becoming an artist known for the individualistic aspects of her work, while still following the known and respected rules. She wanted to walk the line between notability and likability. Giving in to the expectations of the media or falling into the habits the world shared felt like giving up that chance to stand on both sides of the issue. But still, as her heart began to overflow, she realized it was never water in her heart; it was fear. Fear that if she refused to blend in and look as bland as the rest of the town, she would be treated like Georgia used to be treated. The memories still haunted her.
●●●
It was the first day of first grade, and the class was thrilled with the idea of recess. Is there anything better than getting to play outside with your friends for half an hour in the middle of the day instead of listening to boring teachers talk about boring things and telling you not to write in yellow crayon, your favorite color in the whole wide world? Aurora doubted it, as this whole recess thing sounded pretty great to her. She had made a new friend that day, and her name sounded like George, which of course made her wonder why she had a boy’s name if she was a girl, but she didn’t mind. All that mattered to Aurora was the fact that she had a brand new friend to play with! Maybe they would even get to draw with chalk on the blacktop together. But, when Aurora found George, Georgina, or whatever her name was, she saw the most terrifying sight, one that would haunt her for years to come.
Three big kids had surrounded her new friend, and they were gripping onto her hair and tugging at it. At first, Aurora was quite confused, as her hair was an incredible shade of red. It was supposed to be very rare and Aurora thought that it was the most amazing thing she had ever seen. As she got closer, she began to hear what the big kids were saying to her best friend. She let out a startled gasp as she found that they were saying the meanest, most hurtful word they could possibly call it: stupid. They tugged on her hair and ripped it out in big tufts, telling her that her hair was “weird” and making sure she understood just how much they hated it. If she wanted to be normal, her blazing red hair would have to go. “Weird kids don’t get to play on the playground!” the tallest among the older kids said. Aurora wanted to help, but didn’t know how. She was furious that they would do such a thing to her friend. Georgie’s hair was gorgeous, so gorgeous that Aurora had planned to ask her mother that very afternoon if she could get a red headed doll! How could they have said she was not normal?
Just as Aurora worked up the courage to confront the big kids, she suddenly felt an immense wave of fear course through her. “What if they do the same thing to me? What if they know just from looking at me that I like yellow and not pink, like the other girls? What if I’m not good enough for them? What if they decide that I deserve to be shoved around and have my hair ripped out too?” she thought. These, of course, were only a few of the many fears racing through Aurora’s head faster than the race cars in the races Aurora’s daddy sometimes watched.
The thoughts that had just imprinted themselves upon Aurora would stay in her head for the rest of her life. A new form of anxiety had sprouted in her, and she vowed to never reveal to anyone how different she might be from other people. She would always fit in. She did not need to be happy, she just needed to blend into the crowd.
Three big kids had surrounded her new friend, and they were gripping onto her hair and tugging at it. At first, Aurora was quite confused, as her hair was an incredible shade of red. It was supposed to be very rare and Aurora thought that it was the most amazing thing she had ever seen. As she got closer, she began to hear what the big kids were saying to her best friend. She let out a startled gasp as she found that they were saying the meanest, most hurtful word they could possibly call it: stupid. They tugged on her hair and ripped it out in big tufts, telling her that her hair was “weird” and making sure she understood just how much they hated it. If she wanted to be normal, her blazing red hair would have to go. “Weird kids don’t get to play on the playground!” the tallest among the older kids said. Aurora wanted to help, but didn’t know how. She was furious that they would do such a thing to her friend. Georgie’s hair was gorgeous, so gorgeous that Aurora had planned to ask her mother that very afternoon if she could get a red headed doll! How could they have said she was not normal?
Just as Aurora worked up the courage to confront the big kids, she suddenly felt an immense wave of fear course through her. “What if they do the same thing to me? What if they know just from looking at me that I like yellow and not pink, like the other girls? What if I’m not good enough for them? What if they decide that I deserve to be shoved around and have my hair ripped out too?” she thought. These, of course, were only a few of the many fears racing through Aurora’s head faster than the race cars in the races Aurora’s daddy sometimes watched.
The thoughts that had just imprinted themselves upon Aurora would stay in her head for the rest of her life. A new form of anxiety had sprouted in her, and she vowed to never reveal to anyone how different she might be from other people. She would always fit in. She did not need to be happy, she just needed to blend into the crowd.
●●●
Aurora shuddered at the memory, hardly remembering that she was sitting on the floor next to Georgia, who was looking at her worriedly. Quickly, Aurora shook her head and asked if Georgia had the hair dye. Remembering her vow to never let herself stand out, she allowed Georgia to excitedly gather up the materials to do both of their hair, as well as the clothes that apparently were the next “big style” so that they would be just as pretty as everyone else. Even just thinking it in her head, Aurora knew this was wrong. They were not going to be as pretty as everyone else, they would be identical. What is the point of having so many people in the world if all of them end up exactly the same? The question bounced up and down, left and right, refusing to leave Aurora’s mind alone.
“I’m so excited to have the grey hair everyone has, no more red hair to make me stick out and look like I missed the class on how to not look like a half rotten strawberry!” The comment, of course, had come from Georgia in a cheery tone, a sad attempt at lightening the mood. Aurora was almost positive that Georgia felt the same as she did, but didn’t dare speak up. A nervous giggle managed to escape her throat, yet another sad attempt at making things seem alright, and the two girls got to work.
As piece after piece of Aurora was covered by what everyone else expected her to be, she lost her sense of who she was. She felt weird, as if she were living another person’s life, but did not quite remember why she had been so reluctant to do this. This was easier than trying to validate her every thought, right? This was a safe choice; you can’t get bullied if you are exactly like everyone else. Not having to make decisions about what to wear or how to do her hair made her life loads easier, as she would quickly learn.
Aurora’s new life among the mass of people felt foreign. She felt as though she was an intruder, interrupting something she could never truly understand. Her brain seemed to want to run away from her body, living the life it used to be living, with personality and the ability to make choices. But eventually even her brain fell into the traps of conformity. As she started to live her life day to day in the exact way everyone around her did, she discovered the anonymity that came hand in hand with giving up her identity. Her hopes of furthering her artistic talents seemed to float away, like a loose balloon. In fact, everything about who she was floated away like this, even the discomfort that came with this foreign feeling. The balloon, filled with the real Aurora, took an upwards path, with Aurora still jumping to reach the string for a while. But all too quickly it got farther and farther until it eventually disappeared from view completely, and Aurora’s new, stiff form stopped trying to reach it. Slowly, after everyone in the entire town of Wilmington had matching grey hair paired with completely grey clothes and no makeup or accessories of any kind, their personalities began to morph into one.
The entire population of the small town was trying to become one unachievable model of a human being. They all wanted to be the brightest, but not any smarter than the others, the kindest, while still not showing more kindness to one person over another, and the most attractive, without looking different from anyone else. This, of course, was an impossible dream, but it was one the whole town shared. It was all over the media, and anyone who acted or looked differently than the crowd was publicly ridiculed and pressured until they gave in and joined the masses.
Soon, Aurora completely forgot what it was like to be unique. The simple, decision-free life that she was living was so easy that she had no desire to return to the way things had been when she was special. She couldn’t remember why anyone would want to be unique when they could simply be part of a group. All her hopes and dreams had become memories of the past that she only ever thought about when criticizing how naive she used to be. Even her love of painting had been erased from her mind. She no longer thought about the way colors blended on a canvas or the way yellow perfectly complemented purple and orange to make the most stunning sunsets. All that mattered was that she did what everyone else did.
The next change for the masses came unexpectedly. Out of the blue, people all over began to stray away from the dull grey that had dominated the whole town for so long, and decided to try something new altogether. In order to continue blending in, everyone needed to change their appearances and personalities all over again to fit the new craze that had come along. The new obsession had been started by one of the only trendsetters that was not cast aside and ignored for being unusual and strange. Aurora preferred this one over all the grey. For some reason, this new look felt warm and familiar, as if she was reuniting with an old friend. The new person that everyone was going to become felt right, so right that she could almost feel the air slide beneath her
feet instead of the floor pulling her down into it with hands covered in calluses.
Georgia and Aurora entered her room, the same room where they had decided to hop onto the grey-haired bandwagon. They thought it might be nice to begin this new journey in the same place where it had all started. When Aurora looked into the mirror for the last time before her hair was changed from grey, she felt all the air rush from her body.
The girl staring back at her was not her.
A completely different girl was looking at her.
Aurora examined the startled face in the mirror and could not find any differences. This girl in the mirror had the same eyes, nose, hair, lips, even moved the same as Aurora, yet she could not shake the feeling that this apparition in the mirror was a stranger.
Aurora scrambled for the picture of what they were about to become, and she realized that she was the girl in the picture. She was not a grey-haired girl who wore plain clothes and never thought for herself. She was the girl who loved the color yellow and painted to her heart’s content and had the best friend with the wild red hair. That was her.
The face staring back at her through the lens of the camera was that girl.
Aurora laughed. The bird, sitting perched on a branch, watching the others flying around it, finally got up and flew down its own path.
Kristin Cavalieri is a high school student that has an ability to articulate her thoughts in a way that makes the people around her think and question their own opinions. She is persuasive and raw in everything she writes, never failing to send a message to her readers. Previously, she won the Connecticut Laws of Life Essay Contest, and has been published on Teen Ink.
“I’m so excited to have the grey hair everyone has, no more red hair to make me stick out and look like I missed the class on how to not look like a half rotten strawberry!” The comment, of course, had come from Georgia in a cheery tone, a sad attempt at lightening the mood. Aurora was almost positive that Georgia felt the same as she did, but didn’t dare speak up. A nervous giggle managed to escape her throat, yet another sad attempt at making things seem alright, and the two girls got to work.
As piece after piece of Aurora was covered by what everyone else expected her to be, she lost her sense of who she was. She felt weird, as if she were living another person’s life, but did not quite remember why she had been so reluctant to do this. This was easier than trying to validate her every thought, right? This was a safe choice; you can’t get bullied if you are exactly like everyone else. Not having to make decisions about what to wear or how to do her hair made her life loads easier, as she would quickly learn.
Aurora’s new life among the mass of people felt foreign. She felt as though she was an intruder, interrupting something she could never truly understand. Her brain seemed to want to run away from her body, living the life it used to be living, with personality and the ability to make choices. But eventually even her brain fell into the traps of conformity. As she started to live her life day to day in the exact way everyone around her did, she discovered the anonymity that came hand in hand with giving up her identity. Her hopes of furthering her artistic talents seemed to float away, like a loose balloon. In fact, everything about who she was floated away like this, even the discomfort that came with this foreign feeling. The balloon, filled with the real Aurora, took an upwards path, with Aurora still jumping to reach the string for a while. But all too quickly it got farther and farther until it eventually disappeared from view completely, and Aurora’s new, stiff form stopped trying to reach it. Slowly, after everyone in the entire town of Wilmington had matching grey hair paired with completely grey clothes and no makeup or accessories of any kind, their personalities began to morph into one.
The entire population of the small town was trying to become one unachievable model of a human being. They all wanted to be the brightest, but not any smarter than the others, the kindest, while still not showing more kindness to one person over another, and the most attractive, without looking different from anyone else. This, of course, was an impossible dream, but it was one the whole town shared. It was all over the media, and anyone who acted or looked differently than the crowd was publicly ridiculed and pressured until they gave in and joined the masses.
Soon, Aurora completely forgot what it was like to be unique. The simple, decision-free life that she was living was so easy that she had no desire to return to the way things had been when she was special. She couldn’t remember why anyone would want to be unique when they could simply be part of a group. All her hopes and dreams had become memories of the past that she only ever thought about when criticizing how naive she used to be. Even her love of painting had been erased from her mind. She no longer thought about the way colors blended on a canvas or the way yellow perfectly complemented purple and orange to make the most stunning sunsets. All that mattered was that she did what everyone else did.
The next change for the masses came unexpectedly. Out of the blue, people all over began to stray away from the dull grey that had dominated the whole town for so long, and decided to try something new altogether. In order to continue blending in, everyone needed to change their appearances and personalities all over again to fit the new craze that had come along. The new obsession had been started by one of the only trendsetters that was not cast aside and ignored for being unusual and strange. Aurora preferred this one over all the grey. For some reason, this new look felt warm and familiar, as if she was reuniting with an old friend. The new person that everyone was going to become felt right, so right that she could almost feel the air slide beneath her
feet instead of the floor pulling her down into it with hands covered in calluses.
Georgia and Aurora entered her room, the same room where they had decided to hop onto the grey-haired bandwagon. They thought it might be nice to begin this new journey in the same place where it had all started. When Aurora looked into the mirror for the last time before her hair was changed from grey, she felt all the air rush from her body.
The girl staring back at her was not her.
A completely different girl was looking at her.
Aurora examined the startled face in the mirror and could not find any differences. This girl in the mirror had the same eyes, nose, hair, lips, even moved the same as Aurora, yet she could not shake the feeling that this apparition in the mirror was a stranger.
Aurora scrambled for the picture of what they were about to become, and she realized that she was the girl in the picture. She was not a grey-haired girl who wore plain clothes and never thought for herself. She was the girl who loved the color yellow and painted to her heart’s content and had the best friend with the wild red hair. That was her.
The face staring back at her through the lens of the camera was that girl.
Aurora laughed. The bird, sitting perched on a branch, watching the others flying around it, finally got up and flew down its own path.
Kristin Cavalieri is a high school student that has an ability to articulate her thoughts in a way that makes the people around her think and question their own opinions. She is persuasive and raw in everything she writes, never failing to send a message to her readers. Previously, she won the Connecticut Laws of Life Essay Contest, and has been published on Teen Ink.
