A week spent in San Francisco

September 26, 2018

At 3:30 a.m., I was awoken by the loud alarm of my iPhone, as it screamed at me to wake up. I slapped the stop option and groggily rolled out of the comfort of my bed to get ready to head for the airport. Our flight to San Francisco wasn’t until 8 a.m., but we woke up extra early so we would not miss our flight. I prepared myself and my belongings to endure the five-hour flight. It was a quiet morning, as I put my earbuds in to tune out the awkward silence in the cab, as we slowly made our way towards the airport. The long wait of sitting at our gate was always the worst part of traveling for me, but I enjoyed the gentle morning greeting of the glowing sunrise right outside our gate. My sister was going to college in San Francisco, and our family decided to spend a week with her before she began her new journey. It was my third time visiting San Francisco, so I had an idea of where all the popular areas were and how to get there.   As I stepped outside of the airport, I was immediately greeted by the cold and piercing wind of San Francisco. It was something that I haven’t felt in a long time, and I enjoyed every second of it. I was excited to go back since my cousin was there to surprise my sister at the airport. They haven’t seen each other for an entire month. The look on my sister’s face when she saw our cousin was priceless. The first four days of the trip were spent with my sister and cousin shopping, walking around the city, exploring Chinatown, eating at different vintage restaurants and even walking from Union Square to Fisherman’s Wharf. Our legs felt like they were about to fall off from the amount of hills we climbed and how far we walked, but every second was worth it because I was in their company. We went into a little store and bought these amazing boba milk tea drinks in Chinatown. While we were there, we stopped by a mural that showed an exotic dragon and took a polaroid of us together. The day before my sister had to leave for college, we took a tour to Monterey and Carmel, where we ventured to the oceanside and gawked at the insanely expensive households around the area. It was Saturday morning, the day my sister was finally moving into her dorm and starting her new life in college. By then, my cousin had already flown back to New Jersey. We spent the entire day helping my sister move into her dorm. It was a weird feeling knowing that I won’t be able to see my sister for almost four months, as we have always done everything together. The last few days before I flew back home were spent walking around San Francisco and visiting small towns and areas. My sister had already started her classes by the time I was packing up my things to go back home. It didn’t hit me that my sister was going to college and wouldn’t physically be by my side until we landed back on Oahu. I felt a wave of sadness, and I immediately turned my phone back on, just to text my sister saying,“Hey, we just landed. I don’t know about you, but I really just miss you. Four months is going to be a long one.” I instantly got a reply back from her saying, “Don’t worry sister. I’ll be back before you know it. If anything we can always Facetime for hours. Oh, and I miss you too. See you in four months!” As I climbed back into my bed, I couldn’t help but reminisce about the trip. Despite my sister leaving for college, I’m grateful that I had a few days to spend with her. It reminded me that she’ll always be there for me even if she’s thousands of miles away.  

How to plan your funeral

January 5, 2018

Does “Here lies Taylor McKenzie” or “Endings are always bittersweet” sound better as a title for my eulogy? These were the thoughts distracting me from finishing my AP Spanish homework; conjugating “morir,” which means “to die,” in Spanish couldn’t be more fitting at the moment. As far as I know, I am nowhere near my death bed. In fact, I’m just about to start my life, as I finish my last year of high school and prepare for college in the fall. But while most high school seniors spend their time researching scholarships–or even prom dresses–I’m here planning how to spend my remaining years on Earth. My eulogy can’t be entirely classified as a morbid interest in the great beyond but rather, as an unusual school assignment. It’s actually part of a religion class project at Sacred Hearts Academy that many seniors take. Last year, when I asked a senior friend what the class was about, I immediately regretted it. She launched into a description of her own eulogy, even going as far as to detail how she thought she would die. I was horrified. Who would want to plan their own funeral? It’s paradoxical, planning the end of one’s life before it has really even begun. The end begins The course, “Dying and Rising,” made its haunting appearance, as I glanced over my senior year class schedule. I worried about how this course would affect me. I heard that many classes involved sobbing and bearing your soul for your peers, revealing your deepest regrets. I wasn’t prepared for that; I had barely even gotten a taste for life, much less done enough to have any serious regrets. When the school year started, I decided to approach the class with a layer of hesitation. Why bother putting effort into something that I believed did not affect me–for now, at least. I blindly picked morgues and funeral services. It made me too miserable to imagine who I would be leaving behind, or even worse, who would beat me to that final resting point. As I began to delve further into the project, I wondered what prompted my teacher to create such a morbid assignment. It’s not like my teacher wears all-black and spends her free time in cemeteries. In fact, she’s quite the opposite and is in a perpetually cheery mood. But that didn’t mean she, too, didn’t get excited about the mushroom burial suits or hilarious takes on public figures’ eulogies that she showed in class. When I approached her about it, she said the project was meant to teach students to think beyond themselves and to help them realize they need to prepare their loved ones for their deaths. Her enthusiasm towards funeral planning and emphasis on family made the process slightly less painful. I continued my research, and as society has groomed us, looked for the best deals possible to suit my death. I could go with Oahu Mortuary’s memorial service bundle for an affordable price of $1,295–what a deal! Or, I could have my mom pick up a casket for me on her next run to Costco for milk and eggs. Yes, Costco sells caskets at discounted prices. The living dead But it wasn’t until I came across the Bios Urn that my outlook on the project shifted. Advertised as “the biodegradable urn designed to grow a tree,” the urn could be easily purchased with a click of a mouse on Amazon. The $147 price tag was also appealing! As an avid environmental advocate, I was excited to read about the biodegradable urn and clean energy holder. Rather than being buried in caskets, which can become harmful to the environment when they degrade, the Bios Urn is made from all-natural ingredients. The best part? You can plant a seed on top of the urn. Instead of being a reminder of departed loved ones, the Bios Urn is a catalyst for new life. Oddly enough, I found myself barely able to contain my glee as I read on about the strange invention. How did I become so morbid? Why was this so intriguing to me? Turns out, the Bios Urn was what I needed to change my perspective on a topic I had always dreaded–death. In regards to the class project, I was excited about how I could continue to help the planet, even when I am no longer able to witness the benefits. I had even come to terms with the idea of leaving a future family behind. With the Bios Urn, I wouldn’t really be leaving them. I would just be taking on a different form. Before this project, I never thought of the environmental impact human death and decay have on the environment. I guess we can never escape our eco-footprint, even through death. What started as a strained relationship with an odd class, soon became one of my greatest joys. My eulogy was more than a distraction from AP Spanish; it was a time to reflect on my life. If the timeline I created in class is correct, I have 72 years left in my life; years that I want to spend falling in love, traveling to every continent and eating good food. I am not anxious anymore about spending my life the right way; I know that this time on Earth, as mundane as high school may feel right now, is important. Perhaps the most meaningful lesson I learned was the phrase, “Live your dash to the fullest.” It came from our enthusiastic religion teacher, who liked to remind us to make the most of the time that we have on this Earth. In the end, what matters is how you spend the dash in between the date of your birth and the date of your death.

Going live: A discussion that changed my perspective of journalism

December 19, 2017

Beads of sweat collected on my forehead, as I stared at a thermostat reading 64 degrees. I could feel chills run through my body and a warmth slowly consume my face, as I awaited one of the most momentous occasions of my high school journalism career–participating in a live televised discussion alongside some of Hawaii’s most notable movers and shakers in media. I was selected to represent a high school journalist’s perspective on some of the top news stories of 2017. Moderator Beth Ann Kozlovich, journalists Yunji De Nies and Daryl Huff and Spencer Oshita, the editor-in-chief of the University of Hawaii at Manoa’s student newspaper, were also part of the panel discussion. The hour-long “Insights” program, which broadcasted on PBS Hawaii, was an opportunity to share what we believed to be the most important current events of the year. We also addressed how these stories might impact the future of our state, as well as present and future generations. A week before the show, each panelist was asked to submit one story idea for six possible categories including, go figure, sea change, inspirational, truth to power, comeback and stories to watch out for in 2018. In preparation for the show, I spent many days reading news articles and researching topics submitted by each panelist. The night of the show was definitely an unforgettable one. The set was just as I expected, producers scattered throughout the room, cameras bigger than the doorway and seasoned journalists discussing topics that were going to be brought up during the show. It was almost as if they were speaking another language, as they used words beyond my vocabulary and analyzed stories in such great depth. After meeting the panelists, I was immediately introduced to the makeup artist. She vigorously dabbed away at my face and colored every crease of my eyelids in what I assumed was an attempt to give me the appearance of a professional, since my own effort to do so at home seemed to have failed. Having a professional makeup artist made me feel like a celebrity, but at the same time, the reality of being on television was also slowly sinking in. After my makeup was finished, the director of the program gave me a tour of the studio and control room. Seeing places I’ve only ever seen on television was surreal, but it almost felt minuscule in comparison to seeing the discussion table I would be seated at in an hour’s time. Caught up in all the excitement of meeting fellow panelists and exploring the studio, I realized things were about to get real when the set manager let us know it was almost show time. I took three deep breaths, as I was seated at the table and prepped for filming. The first thing that caught my attention was the colossal black camera pointed straight at me, daring me to look back at it. The terror didn’t end there. I thought about how thousands of viewers would be watching, including my family, my friends and my teachers. I felt like everyone was expecting something out of me that was up to par with the professional panelists. As the thought crossed my mind, tears began to well up. I began having second thoughts despite hours of preparation, reading articles and analyzing the news. Fortunately, being surrounded by everyone’s smiles and warm gestures helped to ease my nerves. At the last minute, I convinced myself that I needed to represent my school and generation with pride. To be able to voice my opinion and further inform people of what’s happening around them is what being a journalist is about. I was so lucky to have this opportunity to do so. The countdown to going live began, and with each second that passed, the more determined I became to make my voice heard. That determination grew over the course of the show, as I tried to contribute to almost every conversation, using real-life experiences to make connections with the topics we were discussing. The hour-long show turned into what felt like 10 minutes, but I was still able to learn so much more about the stories that helped shape Hawaii. Although there were times when I didn’t quite know how to answer a question, I managed to get through it and articulate a response to which the other panelists could add. At the end of the show, the moderator and other panelists congratulated me on finishing my first live televised discussion, and the producer was there to give me a big hug. Because I was more familiar with everyone then when I first came to the studio, we struck up conversations that could have lasted for hours if I didn’t have school the next day. This experience made me realize that there is so much more to journalism than working in front of a computer screen with my hands glued to the keyboard. It’s about getting out in the field and vocalizing the words I put on paper. I also realized that being a journalist means stepping out of one’s comfort zone in order to make your presence known. Participating in the discussion reassured me that I have what it takes to succeed as a journalist and that if I keep working hard, it will only help me to become better. Maybe one day I’ll come back to the show as that seasoned journalist, speaking a “foreign language” about all that has happened and will happen around me.