School Youth
Anh
Anh
This photo captures a very personal part of my life—my room, which has become a reflection of who I am and what matters to me. Everywhere you look, there are pieces of my identity: a Midsummer Night’s Dream playbill from theatre, a Puffs flag, Vocal POPs memorabilia, my letterman patch, and even a few school newspapers like The Howler. Each side of the room represents a different part of my school experience. One wall is covered in assignments I’m proud of, another holds sports gear, and yet another is full of things tied to my extracurriculars. It’s a space that shows how much of my life revolves around school, but also how I’ve made that space my own. There’s a quote on the wall that says, “You don’t have to dream of a dream if you’re already in one,” which reminds me to be grateful for everything I’ve been able to do.
This photo was taken during my junior year, a time that felt especially overwhelming between academics, extracurriculars, and thinking about college. A lot of the things in the picture—like the envelope with my name on it—are connected to that chapter of my life. Some items are there because they’re tied to future goals like college apps, and others are just reminders of the things I love. In a school that often doesn’t prioritize students’ mental health, this room became a place where I could breathe, reset, and reconnect with the parts of myself that bring me joy. The activities I’m involved in—whether it’s music, theater, or leadership—aren’t just resume builders. They’re what make me feel seen and grounded.
Through this photo, I wanted to tell a story that pushes back against the idea that success means burning yourself out. So many students feel crushed by pressure—whether it’s grade inflation, impossible college standards, or just trying to meet expectations. But this picture says something else: it’s possible to strive and still take care of yourself. It’s possible to be ambitious without losing sight of joy. I hope that by sharing my story, others might feel a little more empowered to slow down, to find comfort in what they love, and to ask for change in the spaces that forget students are human too.