作者： mustard

Caridee Chau, 15, Shanghai American School, Shanghai

Grotesque monsters, jump scares and gut-wrenching gore — the horror genre has long been epitomized by tapping into humans’ innate fears. We’re so accustomed to dramatic silences punctuated by ear-piercing screams, demonic monsters and bloody violence, that we often forget the impact of deeper psychological forms of fear. The author and artist Junji Ito skillfully elicits these primal fear responses through the stationary frames of manga panels. Without the usual sounds, sights and senses typical of other horror genres, his work “The Enigma of Amigara Fault” compounds our fear through grossly disturbing thematic arcs.

The manga is set in a nondescript prefecture in Japan’s countryside near Amigara Mountain, where a fault is discovered near the epicenter of a recent earthquake. The clamor surrounding the incident quickly turns from shock to intrigue, as the fault exposes human-shaped holes in the mountainside that look uncannily like the silhouettes of certain villagers. Witnesses of this strange phenomenon feel inexplicably compelled to visit the fault themselves. Eventually, an onlooker climbs into the hole shaped like his silhouette and disappears, his fate uncertain as rescue workers search for him.

When the villager is found, readers are immediately gripped by the grotesque image of a contorted humanoid. The person who stepped into the hole has bent, stretched and unraveled beyond recognition. The illustration itself was portrayed in sickly vivid detail, and each pen stroke expressed the character’s extreme pain. Beyond the immediate response to the graphic panel, however, the idea of being confined in a claustrophobic space makes readers feel like they are trapped within the tunnel’s restrictive walls.

The chilling image haunts readers long after they put down the manga, and the horrific realization that we are, in a metaphorical sense, contorting ourselves to fit societal expectations every day, is the most psychologically disturbing aspect of this story. We’re left reflecting on our own self-image, contemplating the ways we’ve repressed or changed ourselves to please others. Do we still recognize our reflections? Do we like the people we’ve become? Or, have we lost control over the circumstances around us and their influence on our lives? The manga turns the insidiously gradual loss of identity into a physical manifestation.

By shining a light into the tunnels we dig for ourselves, “The Enigma of Amigara Fault” holds a mirror up to our own lives, allowing us to see the ways we are falling into the holes of our own fate and empowers us to take the reins on reshaping our own futures. The greatest enigma may be understanding the ways in which we trap ourselves and remembering how we can still reclaim control over our lives.

Kaixin Cassie Zheng, 14, Shanghai American School, Shanghai

Balenciaga’s spring/summer 2023 line is “just...meh” says Kaixin Cassie Zheng, 14.Credit...Photographs by Balenciaga

Balenciaga by Demna is accustomed to incorporating the outdoors within its runways. In a 360-degree venue, their autumn 2022 show featured models trudging through snow and gusts of wind. Building on this imagery, their spring/summer 2023 clothing line launch had models strutting through dirt and puddles wearing all-black clothing. The point? To address the stereotypes and malevolence people hold toward others, especially in times of war.

In a post-apocalyptic security uniform, Kanye West (hugely controversial himself) introduced the collection with a stompy stride, and was followed by a swathe of models wearing a number of outfits, from formal clothing to grungy work wear to club gear. They carried dingy gowns, skimpy mesh tops, baggy jeans and “trash bags”— all in black, all of which were stained by the mud as they walked hastily down the runway.

Despite the ambition in the show’s theme, the new line of garments equated to really rather dull, boring clothing. The spectacle of the show? Well — it was just a new version of something they’d already done, but this time, the models (and their attire) sunk deeply into the background, almost unnoticed. Some clothing appeared to be made of rags, and most of the collection was doused in mud, either off the runway or as a result of surface embellishment. Belts and the elastic bands of underwear stood out of proportion to the pants they were fashioned under.

“I hate boxes and I hate labels and I hate being labeled and placed in a box,” Demna once expressed regarding society’s restrictions on individuality. Many other high fashion brands have followed in his stead, shouting about similar topics. The symbolism of Demna’s vision directed our gaze away from the clothes and instead over to society. Ironically, and rather unfortunately, Ye, the artist formerly known as Kanye West, recently being dropped by Adidas for antisemitic sentiments, to some, might have undermined the show’s ambitious message.

Demna’s use of an analogy between the fashion show’s setting and the mass grave recently discovered by the Ukrainian military in Izium, really hit like a bolt from the blue. The mud grave appeared to be so similar to the grave dug by Russian troops, forcing people to be confronted by the dangers of military conflict. Here, we seemed to sit in a dystopian scene of a post-conflict nation, but did this immersive experience enhance our support of the clothing, or indeed, influence our appreciation for the innovation of the textiles?

Balenciaga’s 2023 fashion show was impressive in its thematic intent, powerful in its political audacity and inspiring as a way of integrating social activism in art. But as far as Demna’s new fashion line is concerned … the clothes are just … meh.

Thy Luong, 16, Notre Dame High School, San Jose, Calif.

A Chinese-American woman trying to file her taxes is launched into a multiversal epic involving hot dog-fingered lesbians, a homicidal raccoon chef and philosophically devastating bagels. I hardly predicted that the organized chaos of “Everything Everywhere All at Once” would shake my soul to pieces, but as the film defies classification, it defied my every expectation. Directed by the screenwriter duo the “Daniels,” the film centers on struggling mother Evelyn Wang (Michelle Yeoh) as she tries to save the world from her daughter-slash-antagonist, Jobu Tupaki, or Joy (Stephanie Hsu). But “Everything Everywhere All at Once” isn’t just an evocative family drama. Transcending metaphysical boundaries, it channels its remarkable complexity into a radically simple appreciation for all-encompassing love.

As Evelyn bickers with her husband Waymond (Ke Quan) and Joy in the film’s opening sequence, I was astounded by the familiarity I felt in their cluttered, warmly-lit dining room and their rapid switches from Mandarin to English. The film’s appeal is grounded in the reach of its message: While I empathized with Joy’s struggles with her queerness and culture, my mother chuckled at Evelyn’s judgmental character, a nod to generational trauma. Meanwhile, the symbolism is as multitudinous as the universes Evelyn traverses. Googly eyes represent enlightenment. Bagels equal nihilism. The ordinary becomes extraordinary, shifting simplicity to the profound.

If that sounds too deep for a Friday movie night, you’re in luck — the film is also a visual and auditory feast. Aided by Yeoh’s captivating martial arts skills, colorful and glittery action sequences (featuring weapons like lethal fanny packs and tiny dogs) push the story in wild new directions. Whether through explosive bursts of the Chinese gong or the lilting falsetto of a violin, Son Lux’s maximalist score gives the movie extra oomph. This film’s brilliance, though, lies in its subversion. In a scene where the characters are rocks and communicate in utter silence through subtitles, Joy tells Evelyn to abandon worldly concerns and “just be a rock.”

Aptly, Evelyn and Joy’s messy final battle subverts expectations and happens on two fronts: first, during a heated argument outside the laundromat and second, in a planet-shattering dogfight of massive proportions. Although initially tempted toward violence, Evelyn approaches both battles with empathy, embracing her daughter even as the latter resists. Waymond says, “Be kind, especially when we don’t know what’s going on.” Love, ultimately, is Evelyn’s greatest weapon. By combining stunning artistic expression with a rich emotional core, the film urges acceptance — of family, life’s bagels and our enoughness.

“Everything Everywhere All at Once,” in all its intimacy and absurdity, cannot be contained within a few paragraphs. Yet it most powerfully reminds us to exist — divinely imperfect as we are — and to choose empathy. No matter the universe, we can choose to love unabashedly.

Sam Johar, 17, Hunter College High School, New York, N.Y.

Sam Johar, 17, takes readers behind the scenes of Grand Central Terminal’s celestial ceiling.Credit...Zack DeZon for The New York Times

Any New Yorker walking into Grand Central Station’s main concourse will immediately encounter an unusual sight: gaggles of tourists, phones outstretched, for once looking up — a result of the sweeping gold lines and twinkling stars that adorn the ceiling, turning the terminal into a work of art.

Grand Central’s celestial ceiling is a rare New York City landmark appreciated by tourists and residents alike. The mural invites watching eyes to dart east to west across a tapestry of gold constellations, where many stars are real lights, casting a subtle glow around them. Tourists are often so full of wonder that they block the way of the poor New Yorker running for a Hudson Line Metro-North train (I may be speaking from experience).

Normally, I’m a typical New Yorker about tourists — vaguely fond, but prevailingly annoyed. Here, though, I understand — I’ve been to Grand Central more times than I can count and I still stop. I still take a picture, still find Orion and wish him well.

Grand Central Station’s ceiling is the image that the city shows the rest of the world: a gilded sky of constellations, a future-looking metropolis rising ever upward. Excelsior. However, this surface-level story is incomplete.

For starters, the constellations are wrong. When the mural was constructed in 1913, the astronomer Harold Jacoby consulted Bayer’s star atlas to create a diagram, which was projected onto the ceiling. In the process, the whole illustration was reversed, save Orion. Nobody is sure of the reason for this inconsistency, though it’s speculated that the artists wished to portray Orion facing Taurus.

A closer look at each constellation leads to an interesting discovery — the ceiling actually consists of small square boards, creating checkerboards behind each constellation. Why? It’s not the original. The constellations were originally painted directly onto the plaster ceiling, but, thanks to the leaky roof, the mural was damaged. Rather than restore it, the city covered it up with a less detailed copy.

Despite its history, Grand Central Station’s constellations are undeniably beautiful — the faces turned up in wonder speak for themselves. Ignored, the ruined artwork below wonders, “Did anyone consider the irony of an incorrect map in a train station?”

New York City’s Excelsior motto leaves no room for what we’ve left behind in our climb higher. We’ve tried to bury a darker version of our city to make room for a metropolis that is the nation’s cultural and commercial center. However, as a New Yorker still looking up at Grand Central’s constellations, I have to believe in both New Yorks. There may be a darker truth behind the panels, the constellations may be wrong, but the ceiling is unique in its flaws — acknowledging its history only makes its beauty more striking.

Audrey He, 17, Plano West Senior High School, Plano, Texas

Amid the oppressive heat of summer in a small New England mill town, a young mother and her teenage daughter have fractured. So begins the quietly enthralling saga that is “Amy and Isabelle,” Elizabeth Strout’s debut novel chronicling the forces of love, shame and youth.

Amy Goodrow is 15 when she meets Mr. Robertson, her new math teacher. To Amy, he is wonderfully novel (“‘Was it really Cheerios you wanted for breakfast this morning?’ he asks the class, ‘Or did you eat those Cheerios simply from habit? Because your mother told you to’”), charming and attentive. As the months pass Amy falls in love; slowly, Mr. Robertson reciprocates, crossing the line from affection to seduction.

All of this is unbeknown to Isabelle Goodrow, who works a mundane job as a secretary by day, returning to the home she shares with the daughter she grows more distant from every night (“‘It’s Yeats, Mom. Not Yeets,’” Amy tells her mother, who reels in humiliation: “Here was something new to fear — her daughter’s pity for her ignorance”). When Isabelle discovers Amy’s secret affair, the taut strings of their relationship snap.

“Amy and Isabelle” is not a typical narrative of sexual predation. Amy is her own person, a teenage girl desperate for self-possession (as most teenage girls are), and her relationship to Mr. Robertson is imbued with the thrilling passion of first love: she thinks of his “intimate, wonderful voice” as she does homework; she prepares herself to see him after school as if going on a date, pinching her cheeks in the mirror. It is twisted, taboo, wrong. But Strout writes with a potent compassion that makes it difficult not to empathize.

Yet the book is not really about Amy and Mr. Robertson. It is about the secrets kept between parent and child, the startling intimacy that lies beneath the ordinary, how we cling to wreckage in the wake of devastation.

The titular characters are often cruel (Amy grows annoyed simply at the way “her mother’s face was tilted on the end of her long neck, like some kind of garter snake”). But they are also loving, fierce and brilliant. One night, when Isabelle comes home and does not find Amy (who is still with Mr. Robertson), she fears Amy has been kidnapped: “She felt as though cold water were pouring through her arms, her legs. She went down the stairs, stumbling at the bottom, bracing herself against the wall. This isn’t happening, she thought. This isn’t happening.”

This, Strout reminds us, is what it is to be human.

“Amy and Isabelle” is a triumph, exploring the crevices of the heart, the faults of our interior terrains, with incredible tenderness and nuance.

Amy Liu, 17, Developing Virtue Secondary School, Ukiah, Calif.

“Samsara” interprets its titular Sanskrit word as “the never-ending turning of the wheel of life,” writes Amy Liu, 17.Credit...Internet Video Archive

Tibetan monks creating an intricate sand mandala. The wreckage of a young girl’s bedroom after Hurricane Katrina. Otherworldly Angolan waterfalls and hanging pigs slit in an assembly line — contrasting imagery is the driving force behind the intensely thought-provoking nonverbal documentary “Samsara,” the latest in Mark Magidson and Ron Fricke’s series of meditative films on the human experience.

Captured in 25 countries across five continents, the film interprets its titular Sanskrit word as the cycle of birth and death, the never-ending turning of the wheel of life. With no dialogue, no narration, and no specific social or political agenda, “Samsara” opens discussion on the countless dualities we grapple with every day. The hectic flow of train passengers and the stillness of natural rock formations, both captured in time-lapse; the unsettling mechanical whir of humanoids and the raw depth of a human face; dozens of children and adults scavenging through mountainous dumps of fetid waste and hundreds of inmates performing an energetic dance routine — “Samsara” takes away the clash within these dichotomies to showcase man in nature, the artificial and the natural, the beauty amid the ugly. The wonders, the horrors and the raw truths of the world are all there, in dazzling 8K HD clarity. What you make of them is up to you.

Even on the 10th anniversary of its release in the United States, the film remains a poignant reminder for us to pause in our constantly shifting lives and look around us. The awe surrounding the documentary’s aerial footage and exquisite time-lapse — captured by a camera specially designed by Fricke — may have lessened as drones are now widespread and time-lapse is incorporated into every phone camera. But the slow pans and close-up shots which linger for just a bit longer than is customary and comfortable leave you enough time to not only pause and soak in every detail but also to ask questions and to think. Why do we incessantly manufacture, consume, discard, manufacture, consume, discard? What keeps us going if everything we make or do will be lost to time? What does it mean to treasure the beautiful, the joyous and the vibrant in the face of inevitable disfiguration, destruction and death?

I could describe every scene, list every location, introduce every song in the stirring musical score that accompanies this masterful montage — and still, the film would be a fresh, eye-opening, and deeply resonant experience. Whether the scene is primeval and nostalgic or breathtakingly exotic, you will find a piece of yourself in it. Because more than anything, “Samsara” is about human interconnectedness, showing human nature as it truly is: beautiful, ugly and complex, but never alone.

Gabriel Kantor, 15, Jackson Hole High School, Jackson, Wyo.

You wake up from a 100-year sleep to discover a once-grand kingdom overtaken by nature after some great “calamity” occurred years ago. The camera pans out to unveil an enormous world teeming with ruins, shrines and hostile enemies. This is the great plateau. So great, in fact, that I initially mistook it to be the entire map — it was only one percent. The rest of the world? Snowy peaks, immense deserts, overgrown jungles, smoldering volcanoes and more. You name it, it’s probably there.

I was initially skeptical of how anyone could build a feature-packed game to fit such a large world, especially on something with hardware as limited as a Nintendo console. I was mistaken. The world of Breath of the Wild isn’t just filled, it’s overflowing.

There are eight diverse regions, six cities, four giant mechanical creatures (which you can explore), a treacherous castle and over 120 shrines. Wait, was that a dragon? You can climb any surface, paraglide from any point and even “shield-surf” down steep slopes. The most remarkable aspect, though, is that in the hourlong journey to traverse from one end of the map to the other, there’s not one loading screen, not one interruption from continuous gameplay. Furthermore, there are no restrictions to gameplay. If you wanted, you could finish the entire game in 30 minutes, or explore everything the world has to offer. Besides the main story line, players can tame horses, find Koroks (arguably the cutest creature in the game) or just take in the scenery. Even combat is open-ended. With an expendable weapon system, swords and arrows become rare commodities, forcing more creative decisions. Foes cannot only be taken out with swords and spears, but with bombs, boulders and even high-speed flying magnetic doors.

When you’re young, there’s a certain feeling when you finally reach the cookie jar and are rewarded with a sweet surprise; that’s Breath of the Wild. Whenever I discover some new game mechanic, hard-to-reach area or hidden secret, I feel the delight of a little kid. With little to no instructions, you’re encouraged to explore the world on your own, make your own discoveries and drive your own story. In my over 300 hours of gameplay, I have still to discover everything in the vast world of Hyrule. The plot isn’t perfect and the character design could use some work (I’m talking about you Bolson), but that becomes irrelevant when the player creates the plot. Thousands of video games have been released since Tennis for Two in 1958, but few of them have been open-world, let alone nonlinear. This confluence of openness, freedom and a constant state of discovery defines Breath of the Wild: a sweet treat for any gamer.

Chloe Shannon Wong, 16, Arcadia High School, Arcadia, Calif.

Chloe Shannon Wong, 16, reviewed the lunch at her school’s cafeteria.Credit...Alyssa Schukar for The New York Times

Plastic sporks, waxy red apples and pizza gleaming with enough oil to fill a small car: These are the signatures of Arcadia’s most bustling eatery. Few dining establishments are as benignly mediocre — or enjoy such astronomic popularity. Since August, I’ve eaten here daily, along with 2,000 other loyal customers. But what is it about these state-subsidized meals that leads teenagers to storm the halls at noon? What exactly is the secret to my high school cafeteria’s success?

On the first day of my junior year, I decided to answer that question myself. As a newly-minted upperclassman (short a year of actual school thanks to Covid), I didn’t want to graduate without ever eating in the cafeteria — that staple setting of angsty teen films. I was used to eating with friends in the library, and visited the cafeteria (nicknamed the Cafe) expecting to be repelled by its unrelenting din. Instead, I was pleasantly surprised. Though the Cafe is always busy, it boasts a spacious seating area — and in the back, an organized kitchen, replete with serving stations and fridges stocked with juice. If you have a calculus test fifth period, it’s a great place to fuel your brain with some last-minute carbs and protein. And the options are plentiful: On Wednesdays, the plat du jour is Buffalo wings; on Tuesdays, tacos paired with spaghetti. Monday’s pepperoni pizza is actually passable; the mystery meat with pineapple and brown sauce on Thursdays, less so.

While the menu changes at the Cafe, the service and ambience never do. The queue is often hundreds long, but thanks to a squad of brutally efficient lunch ladies and a rigid system of lines and ladling, you’ll receive your meal faster than at any Michelin-starred restaurant. The apple juice is always cold; the plastic tables, relatively gum-free. When there aren’t enough seats inside, diners spill out into the quad, where dozens of red lunch tables ensure that no customer is left standing. For 40 minutes Monday through Friday, the entire school is united by Go-Gurts, ketchup and Styrofoam trays. Such vitality is a welcome sight — especially after the eerie hush of quarantine.

Even the most consummate school lunch critic can’t deny the charm of my high school cafeteria, which lies not in its forgettable cuisine, but in the community it sustains without fail. It’s in the lunch ladies’ sweet reminders to “Grab an apple, honey!”; the rowdy laughter of the varsity football team; the sophomore couple declaring saccharine love over a shared plate of nuggets and fries. Every day, hundreds of friendships and connections blossom inside the Cafe. And these memories will continue to linger — long after the puddle of chocolate milk by the front door has dried.

你认为2000年代最具标志性的青少年电视剧有哪些？

高中舞会上最难播放的歌曲有哪些？

有哪些最优秀的当代小说，重新定义了经典作品？

参加“My List”比赛的2949名青少年对这些问题以及更多问题都有强烈看法，你可以在下面欣赏或反驳他们的一些选择。

既然这次挑战的乐趣一半来自于构思一个概念，我们希望你不仅欣赏我们11位获奖者的作品，还能浏览由亚军和荣誉提名提交的富有想象力的名单标题。

‘Thank U, Next’ … or Not? 5 Ariana Grande Songs to Describe YOUR Situationship Struggles

Are You Stalling Out Reading ‘The Power Broker’? Here Are 3 Ways to Get Yourself Back on Track.

3 Indie Songs to Convert a Classical Music Purist

4 Iconic Teen Dramas That Defined the 2000s

3 Novels That Reinvent the Classics — and Get Away With It

4 Middle-Seat-Approved Films to Catch on Your Next Flight

4 Gazes Into Paradoxical 19th-Century Paris

The 3 Worst Songs to Play at a School Dance

Think Your Monachopsis Is Unique? Here Are 4 Artists Who Disagree.

The Female Gaze: 3 Paintings by 3 Trailblazing Female Portraitists

The Great Pretend: A Review of 3 Overhyped Cultural Staples

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All Finalists

Winners

Finalists are listed in alphabetical order by the writer’s first name.

Aaron Wang, 16, Regis High School, New York, N.Y.: “4 Gazes Into Paradoxical 19th-Century Paris”

Carter Considine, 17, The Athenian School, Danville, Calif.: “The Female Gaze: 3 Paintings by Three Trailblazing Female Portraitists”

Emilia Lun, 16, Kantonsschule Ausserschwyz, Freienbach, Switzerland: “The Great Pretend: A Review of 3 Overhyped Cultural Staples”

Emily Hsia, 15, Arnold O. Beckman High School, Irvine, Calif.: “4 Iconic Teen Dramas That Defined the 2000s”

Lela Harkrader, 16, Duke Ellington School of the Arts, Washington, D.C.: “4 Middle Seat Approved Films to Catch on Your Next Flight”

Maeve Costello, 16, Rocky River High School, Rocky River, Ohio: “The 3 Worst Songs to Play at a School Dance”

Nisha Sriram, 16, CHIREC International School. Hyderabad, India: “3 Indie Songs to Convert a Classical Music Purist”

Rishi Janakiraman, 15, Stanford Online High School, Redwood City, Calif.: “3 Novels That Reinvent the Classics — and Get Away With It”

Riya Srivastav, 16, Cerritos High School, Cerritos, Calif.: “Thank U, Next … or Not? 5 Ariana Grande Songs to Describe YOUR Situationship Struggles”

Sofia Hesling, 17, Mayfield Senior School, Pasadena, Calif.: “Think Your Monachopsis Is Unique? Here Are 4 Artists Who Disagree.”

Zayden Li, 16, Horace Mann School, Bronx, N.Y.: “Are You Stalling Out Reading ‘The Power Broker’? Here Are 3 Ways to Get Yourself Back on Track.”

Runners-Up

Aanya Sharma, 13, The Cambridge High School, Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates: “The Red Carpet Looks That Changed Fashion Forever”

Alexander Yaitanes, 18, Novato High School, Novato, Calif.: “Four B Horror Movies That Are Better Than You Think”

Allison Quach, 15, Hunter College High School, New York, N.Y.: “4 Things You Should Always Have in Your Closet”

Anson Zhou, 16, Wuxi Luoshe Senior High School, Wuxi, China: “Three Immersive Works Redefine the Boundaries Between Humans and Technology”

Emma Schelldorf, 16, West Park High School, Roseville, Calif.: “Five Movies to Watch If You’re Questioning Your Sexuality or Gender”

Ethan Y. Chen, 13, Shanghai American School, Shanghai: “Shanghai Restaurants Even the Pickiest Eaters Will Love!”

Himahasini Jammli, 18, Kempner High School, Sugar Land, Texas: “Three TV Shows That Perfectly Capture the First-Generation American Experience”

Lola Glass, 16, Beacon High School, New York City, “Three Must-Play Nintendo Games That Will Even Get Your Mom Hooked”

Maya Berman, 14, Marblehead High School, Marblehead, Mass.: “5 Genres, 5 Albums, 5 Years”

Mumtaz Cooper, 16, Alexander Hamilton Preparatory Academy, Elizabeth, N.J.: “Exploring the Resilience of Palestinian Cuisine in Paterson, N.J.”

Sarina Marzbani, 16, Orange County School of the Arts, Santa Ana, Calif.: “Top 4 Songs for When You Want to Cry Like They Do in the Movies”

Yu Shiman, 17, Temasek Junior College, Singapore: “5 Works of Modern Fashion That Blur the Line Between Art and Absurdity”

Zachary Yuan, 15, Phillips Academy, Andover, Mass.: “Top Four Jazz Albums That Tell Stories Without Words”

Honorable Mentions

Addison G. Townson, 17, Glen Ridge High School, Glen Ridge, N.J.: “Top 3 Best Country Songs That Capture the Essence of a Road Trip Through Rural America”

Adya Anubhuti, 18, United World College South East Asia, Singapore: “Three Satirical Movies That Became Uncomfortably Real”

Christopher Escobar-Cruz, 18, Don Bosco Cristo Rey High School, Takoma Park, Md.: “Top Three Video Games That’ll Break Your Heart”

Devon Chatalas, 17, Francis W. Parker School, Chicago: “Three of the Best ‘Black Mirror’ Episodes If You Don’t Know Where to Start and Everyone Has Told You Not to Watch the First One”

Emma Luo, 13, Fresh Minds Academy, Richmond, British Columbia: “Four Rising Women Artists Every Swiftie Should Know, Who Are the Next Generation of Storytellers”

Ethan Scarpatto, 16, Alexander Hamilton Preparatory Academy, Elizabeth, N.J.: “Animes About High School Teen Life That Will Have You Rethinking How You View Social Outcasts”

Geneva Huang, 16, Mira Costa High School, Manhattan Beach, Calif.: “Exploring L.A.’s Metro: 5 Art Pieces Worth Stopping For”

Helena Tang, 17, Pymble Ladies College, Pymble, Australia: “How to Fake Deep Thoughts in a Café With These 5 Pretentious Books (No One Has to Know You Didn’t Finish Them)”

Jeffrey Liu, 14, Concord Academy, Concord, Mass.: “Mashups Are Marvelous”

Sarah Howell, 16, Aurora High School, Aurora, Ohio: “5 Famous Fashion Moments in Film”

Stella Summerfield, 15, Ann Richards School for Young Women Leaders, Austin, Texas: “Four Poems by Mary Oliver That Soften the World’s Edges”

Sydney Coley, 16, Canterbury High School, Fort Wayne, Ind.: “An Artwork, a Song and a Poem for People Who Experience Absent Fatherhood”

Zhaniya Zhandos, 17, Nazarbayev Intellectual School of Physics and Mathematics, Almaty, Kazakhstan: “Kazakhstan’s Wildest Art Forms: An Animal That Dances, a Grave That Sings, and a Rap Battle That Dates Back Centuries”

Zhifei Han, 16, Shenzhen College of International Education: “The Three Best Desserts in Fast Food Restaurants”

By Emilia Lun, 16, Kantonsschule Ausserschwyz, Freienbach, Switzerland

Emilia Lun, 16, thinks the Mona Lisa is one of three beloved cultural staples that “secretly deserve a little side-eye.”Credit...Christophe Ena/Associated Press

The whispers start, the expectations build, and the crowd leans in. Then BAM! It’s that moment when everyone nods in forced agreement, pretending to love the thing. Some cultural staples survive on pure hype. Are we scared of being judged? Or just suffering from FOMO? With honesty, skepticism, and a touch of rebellion, here’s my unapologetically biased review of three beloved things that secretly deserve a little side-eye.

The Mona Lisa (Art)

I stood in line at the Louvre, craning my neck for a glimpse. People jostled, cameras flashed, anticipation built. And then — there she was. Small. Fenced off. Looking like a perfectly fine painting that somehow tricked the world into obsession. Sure, it’s a masterpiece. Sure, she’s got that enigmatic smile. But after battling crowds and staring at her for a solid five seconds, I thought, This? This is the big deal?

Maybe it’s the centuries of hype, or maybe I just don’t get Renaissance art, but the Mona Lisa feels less like a mind-blowing cultural experience and more like a glorified scavenger hunt item. Find the painting. Take the photo. Pretend your life is changed. Meanwhile, the Winged Victory of Samothrace is chilling a few rooms away, radiating power and grace without unnecessary drama. Why isn’t she getting the same love?

Avocado Toast (Restaurants/Fashion Statement?)

I love a good avocado — especially before it turns brown in 0.2 seconds. It’s creamy, versatile, and guacamole-essential. But slap it on toast, drizzle some artisanal olive oil, and suddenly it’s a personality trait? And worse — fifteen dollars? For bread with a spread?

Avocado toast has become the ultimate brunch flex. There’s an unspoken rule that ordering it makes you trendy, healthy, and effortlessly cool — or at least, your Instagram followers will think so. Over the years, we’ve seen elevated versions: topped with chili flakes, poached eggs, edible flowers — whatever justifies the price. And yet, when my friends suggest brunch, I find myself ordering it again, because, well, isn’t that what I’m supposed to do? If brunch were a performance, avocado toast would be the overpriced ticket to an average show.

Standing Ovations (Theater)

Picture this: You’re at a play. The lights go down. Everyone claps. Fair enough. But then, at the end, even if the show was fine at best, the entire audience suddenly leaps to their feet like they just witnessed Shakespeare reincarnated. Why? Peer pressure.

The social contract of standing ovations is real. I’ve clapped for performances where I didn’t even understand the plot, just to avoid looking like a soulless monster. Once, at a local production, my friend leaned over and whispered, “What’s happening?” I shrugged, stood up, and clapped along — because heaven forbid we be the only two people left sitting.

At this point, standing ovations feel obligatory. Was the acting good? Meh. Costumes decent? Sure. Did the audience still launch out of their seats as if spring-loaded? Absolutely. Honestly, the real standing ovation should go to the brave souls who dare to remain seated.

These cultural darlings prove one thing: Hype doesn’t always equal happiness. Sometimes, it’s okay to admit you’re unimpressed. So next time someone gushes over avocado toast, the Mona Lisa, or an automatic standing ovation, remember: It’s perfectly fine to say, I don’t get it. The crowd might judge you, but at least you’ll be the only one standing (or, in this case, sitting) in your truth.