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Views & attitudesABROAD VIEWTriumphant teensMarie Levey-Pabst asked students in her ninth-gradewriting classes at Boston Community LeadershipAcademy to define what success means to them.Here’s what two <strong>of</strong> them came up with.A rocky road to successBy Shanique Lewis // Staff WriterSuccess might be an easy word to say, butit works up a lot <strong>of</strong> sweat to get there.Success is an accomplishment thatbrings you one step closer to your dream.Success is like walking on flaming hot rocks or swimmingin the Pacific Ocean. It is a challenge that takes alot <strong>of</strong> courage because people may give up or might notbelieve in themselves.When my teacher introduced me to the topic <strong>of</strong> success,I was very shocked because I had some deepsecrets that no one really knew about. When I wasyounger, I always wanted to be a doctor so that I couldhelp sick people, and, up to <strong>this</strong> day, that is still mygoal in life. But to be successful, there are some challenges.In elementary school, I didn’t really care about success.I argued with teachers, cut classes, and gotkicked out <strong>of</strong> them. When I got a failing notice, it didn’tworry me. But the way my mother was yelling andSuccess is something that everyone wants.Many people think <strong>of</strong> success as wealth,power, and fame; that is success, butthere are other things, as well. Success,plays a very important role in people's lives. Withoutsuccess you can't be happy.Success is a really strong word, just like loveand hate.Success could be a goal that you want to achieve.For example, many teenagers want to be doctors whenthey grow up and if they reach that goal they can bescreaming about how I disappointed her made my heartcry. I promised her that I would head in a new direction.Did I keep that promise? Yes I did. I am now afreshman at BCLA. I have straight A’s and never get intotrouble. I hope to keep <strong>this</strong> for the next three years sothat I can overcome my final obstacle and go to college.In my life, I’ve been influenced by both negative andpositive energy. When I was 12 and 13, I hung outwith the wrong group. It shattered my heart to see thatbeing with these students was not getting me anywhere.In <strong>this</strong> group were students who cut school, who hadalready dropped out, or who were smokers/drinkers.Then, one day, I was chilling with the same groupies andthe cops saw us and asked if we were supposed to bein school. I got scared. At that point, I noticed that I’dmade a huge mistake and chilling with these studentswas driving me <strong>of</strong>f a cliff. I made a decision that I knewI might regret because they were there for me when Iwas struggling, but it was for my own good.successful in their lives.You can also be successful when you are happy withwho you are. I think that people can create their ownsuccesses if they put their minds into it. Success isalso whatever accomplishments you won’t regret whenyour final moments come. I remember seeing a lot <strong>of</strong>parents telling their children to go to school and getgood grades, so they could be successful. Even mymom tells me that at least once a month. She is alwayssaying that if I want to live the life I want that I shouldwork hard. Still, I think that for people to be successfulthey don't really have to finish school. People could▲ AFH photo by Lena YeeToday, we are still somewhat friends and two <strong>of</strong> themattend my school. But it was the best decision I’vemade. This helped me to open my eyes, because I havea goal to become a doctor in front <strong>of</strong> me.Success is the trembling feeling that you get at theend <strong>of</strong> every year. Was I successful? Did I meet myexpectations? Those are questions that float around inthin air without any answers or explanations. But at theend <strong>of</strong> every year, I would be able to find out. And I canshout, “Yes, I did it!”I don’t want to fail because it hurts my mother.Failure is like getting a rope to climb across a brokenbridge, but I choose to fall instead. Failure is a consequencethat can break you or make you depending onyour situation. But there is always a solution. On theother hand, success makes me the person I am today.Success is me! ■Wealth. Power. Fame. Or, none <strong>of</strong> the above?By Francisco Castillo // Contributing Writerjust invent useful stuff and make a lot <strong>of</strong> money and,maybe, if they are smart, they would know how to usethat money to get more money. For example, Bill Gatesinvented a really important thing, Micros<strong>of</strong>t. Gatesdid not finish college, but he is a very smart man andbecame successful without it.When I say achieving success without school, I don'tmean by selling drugs and doing things that could getyou in trouble. One example is people who give up oneverything and never put 100 percent effort in whatthey do. ■<strong>My</strong> VenezuelaI will never forgetBy Eloisa Cabello // Staff WriterFlashbacks. Go back to aplace where you had yourfirst kiss, where all youcan remember was theplace you were sitting, when your cheeksglowed the most innocent red. Return tothe time when you lost your first tooth.Where you smiled a toothless smile, andhow you anxiously waited for the toothfairy to vigilantly replace the tooth witha dollar.<strong>My</strong> flashback goes to a place whereI was exposed to the sensation <strong>of</strong> mytaste buds recognizing the Venezuelanheritage I got from my father.A place where arepas makeup my mornings, and atogetherness feeling canhelp us get to sleep at night.The kitchen where my sisterand I would devour theleftover dinner to please ourmidnight hunger and to tryand satisfy the craving <strong>of</strong> myVenezuela that we can't getin Boston.In the summers, theplane would bring me to theairport where my aunt wouldthen drive us through theunforgettable Andes mountainsto a beautiful streetwith a blanket <strong>of</strong> trees droppingdelectable limoncill<strong>of</strong>ruit one by one, and wewould pull up to the housecalled Araguaney that lies inmy Caracas.In Araguaney, the kitchenis the most memorableplace for me. The cachapaswould make my mouthwater. The collection <strong>of</strong> teamy cousin had in the bottomshelf decreases day byday because <strong>of</strong> my "stickyfingers." <strong>My</strong> aunt woulddance away in her kitchen,with headphones jammed inher ears, drowning out ourlaughter. She would be cookingwhat I call "South American hamburgers"that are, by the way, much betterwithout the bun. A Spanish melody wouldflood the big house, as well as my head,because <strong>this</strong> is one <strong>of</strong> many memoriesin my aunt's kitchen that is in the house<strong>of</strong> Araguaney, that is found in the city <strong>of</strong>Caracas, which is bordered by the unforgettablemountains that will always havea place in my heart.<strong>My</strong> mother always described her country,the Dominican Republic, so proudly:her red-white-and-blue flag, her coconuts,her beaches, her people; everything ishers. I have the same feeling when ourlittle-old beat-up green van with brokendoors would drive in between immensemountains that could make me feellightheaded. These mountains resemblegiants, gentle green giants that in theirown way welcome us to Venezuela.There are wonders my aunt's handscan bring to the human soul and mouth.When I was little, I would fervently andimpatiently watch her grind corn into abatter. She would shower it with salt andgrease it with oil. <strong>My</strong> aunt would grill thebatter into a circle that looked like an▲ AFH art by Anne Rose PasseAmerican pancake, but then she slicedwhite cheese into a melted delight. Whenit was in front <strong>of</strong> me, I took my fork andset it aside. With my hands, I rippedin half the s<strong>of</strong>t cachapa, and let thestringy and gooey cheese stretch, andit released an aroma that smelled likehome. Every food that had the honor <strong>of</strong>being devoured in my aunt Cecilia's kitchenis usually something that will nevertaste the same in Boston. The astoundingcooking I so <strong>of</strong>ten miss back thereis something that makes my Venezuelaspecial, but there is also a particularreason that I find my aunt'skitchen so extraordinary, andit isn't the food.The door in my aunt’s kitchenis a metal frame with bars.This is where I <strong>of</strong>ten comein and out on a sunny day, toskateboard with my cousin untilmy butt gets bruised from fallingrepeatedly. That same doorwas where I was introduced tomy best friend. A friend that Iknow will never leave me, ordo me wrong. Humans tend torely on hate and expect the giving,but my friend only relies onfood to eat, a place to sleep,and a person to love.That day <strong>this</strong> summer wasunforgettable. I remember thevibration <strong>of</strong> my music blastingthough my ears when I hear littlefootsteps approach me, withmy uncle along her side. Thedrop <strong>of</strong> my mouth as I see onemonth-and-three-week-oldBellalick my feet and wag her blackand-whitetail side to side.<strong>My</strong> little puppy, the little dogthat I had met in Venezuela,that little beagle that enteredthrough my aunt's kitchen. Thiswet-nosed piece <strong>of</strong> Venezuelathat I brought home with me toBoston, her tiny face bringingback the memories <strong>of</strong>my Venezuela. ■6 / BOSTON TEENS IN PRINT / JAN-FEB 2011 / bostontip.com bostontip.com / JAN-FEB 2011 / BOSTON TEENS IN PRINT / 7

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