A Proud Teacher's Assistant (by William)

I had an eye-opening experience as a teacher assistant for the wonderful Preparatory Choir of LACC. The experience taught me how to interact appropriately with children much younger than myself. I also learned how being a conductor’s assistant can be like. Directly below is a lovely letter from Mrs. Brigham, director of both the Prep and Intermediate Choirs in LACC. She summed up my contribution as the Teacher's Assistant helping the Preppies learn and grow, and my participation in the operas.  Thank you Mrs. Brigham for your encouragement!

"It has been a pleasure to have you assisting with Prep Choir.  You are a wonderful assistant, and I appreciate how your interactions with the Prep Choristers are friendly, kind, and thoughtful.  You help them to feel comfortable, and you are an outstanding model and mentor for them.  I am very grateful for your assistance.

Your work ethic in preparation for La Boheme and Magic Flute was exceptional, William, and I admire the way that you view every situation as an opportunity to learn and grow.  That was inspirational!

I am wishing you and your wonderful family a bright and joyous New Year!"

Card from Mrs. Brigham

My First Late-Night Pizza Party (by William)

Delicious pizza scents wafted over to our table in Mamma’s Pizza.  I checked my watch, 9:30 p.m.  I tried to watch the Rams losing to the 49ers, but I was too occupied to really focus on the football game.  After 30 minutes of solid waiting for my good friend Anson and the badminton batch to come after the night training, I heard the happy clamoring of the energetic children.  I recognized one voice, which belonged to Anson himself.  Just then, my group of ecstatic looking friends walked into the restaurant.  I greeted them warmly, and our late-night pizza party began!

We sat around a long table and shared delicious pizza, pasta, salad, and garlic knots. Anson’s cousin KZ was the special guest from Singapore.  He kept adding cheese powder and spice to his pizza and the other food.  He would keep adding garnish toppings until nobody could see the outlines of the pizza slices.  Auntie Michele and Uncle Alren kept reminding KZ to stop adding spices using very serious tones of voice.  KZ usually agreed hastily with a mischievous glance at us, and after two minutes of intervals, his sneaky little fingers would slowly reach for spice containers and again, dump excess toppings on his food. We all found KZ’s tricks intriguing and funny.  Auntie explained that KZ was used to the heavy taste in Singapore, but she considered it’s healthier for kids to intake less spices.

After the party, we kids decided to start a trivia game.  Our first topic was song lyrics - Ella read lyrics and made us sing the rest of the song.  I quickly changed the subject of trivia to Star Wars.  The change of subject made my answers ruthless and efficient.  All the people at our table were utterly astounded on how much Star Wars information I possessed.  My mom called those “useless knowledge.”  The trivia games were fun for all the kids, parents, and grandma.
   
I loved my first late-night pizza party and will cherish it forever.  I had never tasted better mom and pop pizza in my life.  Both the white and meat lover pizzas delivered a mouthful of juicy, creamy, and thick flavor.  As I am writing, the tastes still linger in my mouth.  The buttery garlic knots punched my tastes buds with perfect garlic and olive flavors.  Thank you auntie Michele for treating us, and I am looking forward to the next gathering. 

My Big Dream ( by Ethan )

       About two years ago, my mother showed me a gif of a sea turtle who had a straw stuck in her nose. I used to use straws all the time, and more than once a day, too. Immediately after watching the gif, I was struck with a whirlwind of emotions. I was extremely hurt by the gif of the turtle, so much so that I still remember it to this day. 

      I realized that plastic straws, while a convenient, durable method (that is, they don’t get soggy and break down like paper straws) of drinking things, can end up harming animals, like that turtle. Since then, I have stopped using plastic straws altogether. But, when I go to any restaurant, I still see people using plastic straws.

    And this is where my big dream comes in: Developing a new biodegradable straw that is as inexpensive to manufacture, durable, and versatile as a plastic straw.  Instead of cluttering our oceans and harming marine life, my biodegradable straw can decompose into compost which can then be used to plant trees.  

    There are four reasons why people use plastic straws despite the harm to the environment and animals, like sea turtles:

1. They are especially cheap, unlike those metal reusable straws, so people’s wallets stay happy.
2. They are appreciably durable, they don’t break like glass, and can also stand the test of time.
3. They’re easy to manufacture, because they do not need advanced equipment to produce.
4. They can withstand being submerged in liquids like water without getting soggy and turning into mush like paper straws. 

   To overcome these perceived benefits of plastic straws, my product will need to provide similar advantages while also protecting sea turtles and other ocean creatures.

     So what will I need to accomplish this? Patience, perseverance, and investing in lots of things: knowledge, health, money, and time to name a few, particularly the last two. Knowledge: I will need to know much advanced chemistry to make the chemical properties of this new material suitable for human use, and biology to make sure that it is safe for all species. Health: I cannot accomplish things with an ill body or mind. Money: Everything comes at a price. Time: Not all changes are immediate. This enterprise can take years to carry out.

    Now, I am in 7th grade. After ten years, I will be just graduating from college, so I can have a startup to make my dream reality. Here is a ten-year plan I made to cover the cost for developing a biodegradable straw. 

     Based on my online research, I am planning to ask for $500,000 seed money, which I will invest in the ten-year period. I have created a portfolio with 35% stocks, 30% bonds, and 35% mutual funds. Jimeet Modi, CEO of SAMCO Securities,  once said “From a ten-year perspective, investing in the consumption theme should pay off handsomely. Be it NBCFs and private banks, consumer durables, or consumer staples, all should perform well, irrespective of the ups and downs in the economy.” I researched some consumption funds and discovered that the best have a return rate of almost 15%. By choosing this type of investment, I can predict at least a 10% return for my portfolio. So after 10 years, my seed money will grow at least to $1,178,973.85.

     You have good reason to invest in me because I am very passionate about science and am very hard-working, and I have a clear vision about the environment. A straw might not seem like much, but keep in mind that 500 million are used every day in the US, and 8.3 billion pollute the oceans. When my dream comes true, we could save the oceans and no turtles will be harmed.

A Night at Puget Sound (a poem by William)

All is peaceful

The night sky, filled with those simmering stars

Shining and smiling their ways down onto the earth

Some stars, they are so bright, they look like miniature suns

The Puget Sound waters surrounding us is ever so serene

The glints of light caught in reflection

Around us, the air is filled with cries of wild animals

The pine trees, spruce, and firs surround us majestically in the darkness

All is beautiful, all is well

Out of the mist, I see the most beautiful place

The moon is starting to slowly ascend

Casting a silver light upon us

Adieu, I will revisit this enchanted place again

P.S. I am learning Chopin’s Nocturne in C-Sharp Minor, a beautiful piano piece, and it reminded me of the night at Puget Sound during my Spring Break, the moon shining through the woods.  I “talked out” the poem while playing piano, and mom recorded it for the second time, here is my poem, A Night at Puget Sound.

The Shakespeare Stealer Book Review (by William)

This intriguing historical novel takes place in England during the 1590s.  As a little child, he didn’t even remember his name.  When he was brought to the orphanage, he was nicknamed Widge.  When Widge was seven years old, he was adopted by Dr. Timothy Bright.  Dr. Bright was a doctor of medicine who studied at Cambridge.  Widge was to be the doctor’s assistant and jot down scientific notes. 

Book cover from internet

After seven more years of his life, a mysterious black-cloaked stranger comes for a visit.  The stranger wanted to have Widge as an apprentice because of his ability to write in strange yet simple characters.  The cloaked figure takes Widge to meet his master.  Unfortunately, his new master Simon Bass orders him and Falconer (the black cloaked man) to go the London and copy Shakespeare’s play Hamlet.  Yet the Globe Theatre actors take him in and treat him as part of the family.  Widge has a choice to make.  Does he obey his fearsome master or betray his new friends. 

I loved the plot of the story, but I wish the author used less English dialect that we cannot quite fully comprehend.  I would recommend this story to ages 12 to 18. 

The Shrink Disease (by William)

I was prepared for another regular and relaxing Saturday, then I realized something unusual had happened to me, and my whole life turned upside down on that day of my life.

When I first woke up, I discovered that I had more space on my bed than the previous night. I got off my bed to get some clothes from the closet. While jumping off, I fell onto the floor, feet first. “What is happening to me?” I muttered. All of a sudden, mom burst into my room. She was looming over me, as she shouted, “Honey, where are you! We don’t have time for Big Tiger Chasing Little Pig (a game we invented)!” “I’m here mom! I’m here!” I squeaked. She looked down, and gasped in astonishment. “What has happened to you! Why have you shrunk in size! Are you feeling okay?” she demanded. And in a swift motion, she swept me up in her palm and took me to the restroom.

I looked into the mirror, and gasped loudly as I saw that I was not as tall as my water mug. My dad then came into the restroom, and gaped at the sight of me being 6 inches tall. He pointed to his phone, mouth still agape and said, “It is on ABC and CNN news that all kids between 7 to 14 years of age in California have shrunk overnight.” “How do you feel, William?” asked my mom. “I feel okay, do you want me to go see the doctor?” I answered her. “Yes,” my mom and dad intoned simultaneously.

I soon had a brief breakfast of some bread and orange juice, despite the difficulties I had with eating. I was quickly transported to the doctor’s office and he informed us, “This is quite an unusual case of sickness. Your son has the Shrink-Small Symptom, caused by the terrifying virus, Europhytus Gilenga Balphis. There have been no treatments so far, and the affecting age range is 7-14 years old, so your son has fallen ill. I will call the nearest health center, and have them make antibodies that counter the disease. This particular pathogen cannot be fought off by extra rest, so William may go about his daily business.” After hearing the doctor’s advice, we thanked him and left.

Mom wasted no time in getting me to my piano lesson. My piano teacher stared in bewilderment at my size, and after she recovered from her shock, mom told her what happened. She then told me to take of my shoes, and I did. She put me on the piano keys, and told me to play with my feet. Although it felt strange at first, but I got a bit more used to it. Before I knew it, time was up, and I said goodbye and thank you to my teacher.

Our next stop on a usual Saturday morning was to go to Trader Joe’s. I love to help my mom shop and help the cashiers bag the groceries, but today, she nestled me onto her palm in case other shoppers step on me. She walked around the aisles grabbing what we needed.  I looked around and I saw many other “few-inched” kids. Then my mom asked me, “Would you like to buy something?” “No, but thank you for thinking of me.” I replied. When we walked outside, she gave me a Trader Joe’s sticker. Its height was about 2 inches, and it was as tall as my legs to my waist!

After 30 minutes, we arrived at my second language school. My mom carried me up to stairs and to the classroom, and I saw my teacher standing over me. Mom set me down onto the table and then took out my learning textbook. “Goodbye mom!” I shouted, and she kissed my head. Across the table, my classmates were using cooperation to flip the pages of one textbook, and I soon joined them in reading the foreign text. In front of us, the text looked very big. Even my classmates who wear glasses took them off. We took a test, and my teacher looked on in amazement as the 4 of us had to work together to write the answers down. When we were done, the words we wrote were so small that the teacher needed to use a magnifying glass to read our answers. Before I knew it, my mother came to pick me up at once and we went home.

When we got home, a bowl of steaming chicken noodle soup was set on the table for me. Mom set me on the spoon, and I started drinking the delicious soup. In an instant, I saw that my body size was growing, and mom cheered with joy. I would find later that day, the medical treatment center made a breakthrough that Europhytus Gilenga Balphis could be cured with collagen, which is mainly found in chicken soup.

From this experience, I learned that no matter what setbacks you encounter, you can always move on with your life, and forget about the worries.

Paul Bunyan 2: A New Tall Tale (by Ethan)

  I’m taking a stroll through Yosemite National Park, breathing in the scent of the trees and listening to the bird’s song. Abruptly, my stomach curls in my body, and I double over. My eyes swivel in my head; suddenly, an animation plays in my vision. I see a nation, with millions of starving people all across it, groaning, wandering the streets, desperately eye-locking the ground for a tiny morsel of food.

  The aluminum and steel bodies of buses litter the streets, their drivers out of business. The air is white with crumpled and torn resumes, letters, and other official job papers, which I saw were stabbed onto the limbs of trees, posted to the streetlights, trash bins stuffed full to the brim with them, the crushed remnants of a glimmer of hope. I also see that the nation is China, from the writing scrawled on derelict buildings and buses.

  When the animation zooms into a stock building, I see the graphs, their lines falling so steeply that if it were a mountain slope, not even I, the mightiest logger and climber of mountains in America, could have conquered it. Stock percentages on all the screens were dwindling at an alarming rate to near zero. Deserted cubicles, each with its own sad story, are lined all about. There’s one person who does not share this cruel misery, though. He’s laughing an evil laugh, clutching pound upon pound of money in his strong, grabbing fists. He looks familiar, but I’m too engrossed by in this hellish scene to pay much attention.

  “I must save the nation!” I think.

  Out goes the hatchet from its old, worn leather pouch, off goes my coonskin cap from the wooden peg rack that I built myself and out goes I from the comfort of my warm home, setting off on an adventure of the grandest scale.

  Later, I arrive at the scenes of terror. I see that not only are people starving, they are also sick. And, there was the evil man, laughing, holding his clutches of money.

  A thorough look at him confirmed that I had seen him before: he was Wang Chen-Han, one of the most selfish, uncaring, and greedy stockbrokers ever to have been born on this planet. He had toppled thousands of stocks all across the world and made millions out of it. He was a billionaire. Now, I realized, he had destroyed every single stock in China, casting everyone into joblessness.

  When I arrive, everyone looked at me, even Chen-Han. They gape at me as if I’m from Mars. “Is he an alien?” someone said.

  “I am Paul Bunyan. Just a logger I may be, but I am here to save you!” I said.

  While I’m saying this, I take a close look at Chen-Han. He’s grown fatter and his voice has changed, but his fiery brown eyes are still the same ones, eyes full of unconcern for others. But, my musing over him is broken when Chen-Han says, “What’re you doin’ here, big dummy?”

  “Helping China, of course!” I say.

  At the word help, Chen-Han’s face grows exceedingly red. It’s one of his least favorite words. “What do you mean, help? You’re not helping anyone,” he emphatically states.

  “You’ll see.”

  I turn without a further glimpse at him and stroll off.

   Since it’s getting dark and I’m far too large for any bed, I decide to head for the Great Wall.

  I climb in pure darkness onto the Wall and lie there. Staring at the starry sky, I’m thinking “What’s my plan? How am I going to help rebuild the country? Maybe tomorrow, I can try to convince Chen-Han to give up his ways…zzz…”

  A sudden pain alerts me to my senses. Still groggy, I look around. It’s just beginning to dawn. The scenery is like nothing I’ve ever seen before, with the bluish mountains rolling in the landscape, the mist floating about like some hungry beast swallowing anything in its way.

  But, the pain lands me back to earth. When I look at my arm, it’s bleeding hard. Then, I notice words scratched into my skin: “U R LUZER - CH” My pain turns into white-hot anger, at the mere thought that Chen-Han would call me, Paul Bunyan, a loser, and that he didn’t even give me a chance to reason with him. Immediately, I spring from my lofty perch and see Chen-Han standing on a beacon tower not far from me.

  “I’ll make you a deal,” he snarls. “How ‘bout you skedaddle back to your cabin and I leave you alone?”

  “No. I’ll save the people here, whether you like it or not.”

  “You’re not saving anything whether it’s for your own sake or my sake or anyone’s sake.” He points with his finger at everyone! And his voice is very mean and hoarse, like that of a school bully whose had two hours yelling at nothing and then another thirty minutes swearing at the pain in his toe because he kicked a rock.

  “You can’t stop me!” I practically shout.

  “Let’s see,” he says and spits at me but I dodge it and spit at him. My spit is larger than his therefore he can’t dodge it as well. So, while he’s busy trying to clear my saliva off of his pug face with lots of overly dramatic swipes, I throw him to the ground.

  In a flash, he gets out a nail gun but I had just the right tool. While the nails are flying directly for my stomach like so many deadly silver darts, I bat them back with my ax; he tries to escape, but Chen-Han is fat from the hours he’s spent gorging on food he’s bought using his unrightfully earned money, so he moves a bit slow. One strikes his arm and wounds him. He yells ”OUCH, I’LL SHOW YOU!” and his voice is so burning with hate that I can feel the trees withering behind me.

  “Aww, you thirsty, here’s some pina colada for you mate!” he screeched, with a flask of poison in hand. Seeing this, I rip a tree from the ground and I see a split second of amazement on Chen-Han’s face, but he doesn’t have time to stare for long because his bottle of poison is in shards behind him, leaking acid green fluid.

  The stockbroker’s face is now no more than a beetroot with a taught white-lipped mouth and two piggy black, hate-filled eyes. Summoning up all his vocal energy, he booms “SO YOU HERUCLEAN, YOU, HOW WOULD YOU LIKE A LITTLE BBQ?” and gets out his Fire-Whippe, a deadly weapon known to be able to fry anything existing.

  While he’s firing the thing at me, trying to turn me into a Paul-Bunyankabob, I sneak behind him and knock him cold with a kick to the head, but I have a more painful way of dealing with him, since pain was the last thing anyone who met him felt. Taking his Fire-Whippe, I fry a tree until it is shriveled and very sharp. I then impale it in his bottom. He immediately wakes up and goes wild, clawing at his rear end like mad. But, I pick him up and carry him to his house. His Fire-Whippe is pointed at the outside.

  “Chen-Han, say goodbye to your money!”

  “Oh no.”

  BOOM!

  The sight of Chen-Han curled up in sorrow at the loss of his mega-mansion fills me with pride at the thought that he should get his rightful punishment. I also decide to make him a servant, helping me cut down trees.

  The following day, I gather some financial experts, and we set about helping the people mend the ruined country.

  Months later, I go back to my home at Yosemite. My bed is too short and weak for me again since I grow like a weed. After lengthening it and giving the old boards to Chen-Han to sleep on, I lay on my new bed. I fall asleep to the sound of Chen-Han’s shrieks of dismay at his being ultimately defeated. As I drift off, I am thinking that for once, China is back to the happy country it once was.