We are made of those we love
By NEVAEH KARRAKER — nakarraker@ucdavis.edu
The last year of high school stirs something within us all. One foot is in the door of the future, while the other is rooted in the past. Every “last” moment we experience — like the last night living with our parents and the last late-night snack with friends — weighs heavier than the one before and heavier than we expect.
We start to understand that home isn’t like a photograph frozen in place when we leave, and returning is no longer returning “home.” The air in our room feels different when we come back to visit; there’s a hollowness in the city as friends scatter and our pets age.
We don’t realize the good things we have until we lose them: You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.
And, when those moments come, we reflect on all the memories we’ve made throughout the years. We come to realize that the people we have lived our entire lives with have majorly shaped who we are today.
We often encourage others to “discover themselves,” which, while incredibly important, overlooks how others have weaved their ways into our lives. Maybe we picked up our habit of dipping pizza in ranch from our second grade friend and our favorite music album is one we discovered alongside an old classmate; these are behaviors, values or preferences that were not necessarily something we found on our own.
Like light, we reflect the environment we are in: The more time we spend with someone, the more we adopt their habits. It’s practically impossible to separate ourselves from the traces our loved ones leave behind — their warmth and lessons stitch us together. Every person we encounter impresses something on us, whether it’s a laugh, favorite song or book.
We all have special little traits that make us unique and distinguishable. It’s like the way all fictional characters have one recognizable feature, such as the innocent demeanor of Rory Gilmore in the first season of “Gilmore Girls.” It’s a key factor in crafting any iconic book or movie — it makes the characters memorable.
After all, that’s why diversity is so powerful: This pool of idiosyncratic personas illuminates the way we live. For instance, one person I know always bounced when he walked, another friend would talk animatedly with her hands. Without noticing, we start to do the same; we start to use a coffee shop napkin as a bookmark and make the same cheesy jokes as they do.
These, as I like to call them, are our “little glass animals” — they are what make us who we are, making us recognizable beyond our physical attributes.
Over time, we fill our shelves with these tiny figurines — some are given to us, while others we uncover ourselves. Some are delicate and clear, like the glass deer that stays kind and resilient in times of struggle: like our grandma. Others are colorful and durable, like the turtle that emulates our friend’s motto to wisely “take things slow.”
Depending on where they stand, they’ll catch light in different ways. They might seem like miscellaneous objects, but each reflection tells a story of where they’ve been and who’s touched their surface.
When we move forward, it’s important to hold tight to our little glass zoo while still being open to collecting more. They’re reminders of who we once were, who we are now and the ways people have influenced us along the way. Sometimes, it’s the only way someone’s presence is still with us — despite the distance, despite the dissociating friendships, we relive our memories through their one-liners and eccentric behaviors. The collection will never be complete, as we are constantly being shaped by the love of those around us.
So, line up all your little glass animals on the windowsill where there’s sunlight, and they’ll sparkle and shimmer on the walls of your heart with every memory of all those you have ever loved — even for just a second. And, maybe one day, someone will carry a reflection of us with them, in their own miniature glass zoo.
Written by: Nevaeh Karraker—nakarraker@ucdavis.edu
Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed by individual columnists belong to the columnists alone and do not necessarily indicate the views and opinions held by The California Aggie.
