Anna Dydzuhn

School: Jockey Hollow School
Grade: 8
First year at YWI
I really enjoyed the Young Writers Institute. I learned that non-fiction is one of my strong points and come pretty easily to me. I also learned about developing a character and thinking of them as real. Seeing Nora Baskin really helped me get ideas and not be afraid to put some of myself in my characters.

“So then I began talking to my camp counselor about how I am pro-choice and believe choice is one of the greatest gifts God gave us.” My best friend, Maggie continued. “But then I told her how I don’t understand how gay people could choose to be that way. So she says, ‘You mean they’re sinners?’ I said no. That wasn’t where I was going at all.” My ears suddenly perked up. I knew Maggie had strong opinions and a fiery personality, and somehow I had a feeling this lady and her were going to clash. I urged her to continue. “So then she goes, ‘Well, I hope they’re having a good time here on Earth because they’re all going to burn in Hell.”

After the phone call was over I got to thinking about what happened to Maggie. I was shocked at the nerve of this woman. I know she isn’t the first one to say it and won’t be the last, but teenagers are just developing opinions and learning to think for themselves. Maggie just had ideas about the world that defined who she was (which is more than I can say for most kids our age). She had come to these conclusions without influence from her parents or anybody else. Unfortunately, her counselor had tried to change her opinion, not by persuasion but through fear and insults. A woman who should have been a role model for my friend did not listen to her opinion, but tried to crush it out of her like one would extinguish a cigarette. She and I both found this utterly insulting.

I had been thinking (and doubting) my religion, Christianity, for some time before this call. I looked through the Bible and wondered what it meant that the wicked would be cast down and the good delivered. That seemed to be written so many times, but have so little meaning. Where is the line drawn between good and evil? How can you say without being self-righteous? So many questions can be brought up about the bible, yet no human can answer these.

What confuses me most of all is thinking about Jesus. Since Jesus accepted the “bad people” of his time, why wouldn’t he accept the gay people of today? After all, the Church says that they are “bad” and “sinning”. He was so loving and looked beyond the sin to the good inside. Why can’t people do the same? I believe that sins are actions, but inside there is the good you do, think, and are. This good might come through when somebody does a bad thing for a good reason, such as stealing to feed your family. I think this is what God judges us on, not our sins.

Christianity truly confuses me. I love so many things about it, but despise other parts. I have many strong beliefs about it that might be different from typical ones. Although I have met very few homosexuals I believe that many are people with good inside. While I’m not sure if they sin by being who they are and feeling their feelings, I must wonder that if Jesus looked beyond the sins why won’t God and people?

_____

My eyes followed Dick as he walked to his mailbox. He pulled it open casually, but his actions subtly hinted tenseness. He pulled out an envelope that read “URGENT” in big, ominous red letters. He opened the letter quickly and the suspense reeled me in to the point where I was literally leaning forward. I was so caught up in the storyline it never occurred to me to think about the points in the movie that didn’t make sense, such as how Dick did not even consider that this could be some sort of money making scam.

Later, I would applaud the shrewd, hateful person who wrote that movie. He had twined my emotions around his finger. Somehow that person (who was most likely watching an enormous TV in a Beverly Hills mansion) knew that the lower specimens of the earth would worry about their own financial situations when they were watching his movie. Somehow this person predicted quite correctly that there were twelve year old girls out there who would think about their fathers and wonder if because his job was not paying well that they would get a letter just like the one Dick was scanning now. The letter that declared that the bank would take the house in one week unless the family could pay off all of their debts.

Panicky thoughts flew through my head. What if that happened to my family? Dad was still looking for a steady job and Mom refused to work. Every time someone brought it up she just commented on her dream to go to college someday. That meant an unforeseeable amount of years filled with financial insecurity! Goosebumps rose up from my skin that was definitely not from the theatre’s air conditioning. I felt as though my throat had been tied into a knot. That writer who had foreseen my every reaction had gone too far. It wasn’t fair that he was sitting in a luxurious living room while my family struggled! My fingers clutched the armrests and a few tears began to trickle down my cheeks. I hated the world I lived in where good people had so little and horrible people were on to of the world.

Quite suddenly, I remembered I was in a public place. I wiped my eyes with a gesture I hoped looked like I was fixing my hair. I had to calm down or somebody would see me. I walked down the stairs stiffly. It made sense that everybody would be staring at the screen, but that did not help the constant feeling on the entire theatre staring. It felt like every person there was judging me with cruel, merciless eyes. I unsuccessfully tried to look dignified.

As soon as I was in the lobby my posture returned to its normal state and my grin disappeared. I walked to the bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror. My eyes were no longer blood shot from the tears they had released. I paced agitatedly across the green and white tiled floor. My flip-flops slapped against it creating a pestering beat. My anger rose up again, this time at my lazy mother. Why did she drop out of high school? Why can’t she be responsible?

I paced back and forth faster, silently cursing my mother and all else that caused my life to be how it was. Several drastic courses of action ran through my head. I stepped out of my body and looked at myself. I was shy, quiet, and going nowhere. I refused to talk to people unless absolutely necessary and was only listened to on rare occasions. Who would care if I had anything to say?

I walked out of the bathroom thinking; strangely, I had always lived in my “bathroom”. It was not a typical metaphor, but true. I had to find my opinion and a life or else problems would rule me forever. So what if my parents were losers. I could do this. I walked into the warm night air. I didn’t stop.