作者： chenchen

Winner

Alessia Cazzetta, from Senago, Italy, chose an article from the Well section headlined “To Enjoy Life More, Embrace Anticipation” and wrote:

To enjoy life more, embrace anticipation

“Looking forward to something can be almost as good as experiencing it” this is the first sentence of the article “To enjoy life more, embrace anticipation” and it is the one that has remained most etched in my mind, after reading it I thought: is it true?.

I went back in time, precisely during my second year of middle school, my Italian teacher was reading a poem by one of the greatest Italian writers: Giacomo Leopardi.

The title was “Il sabato del villaggio” (Saturday night in the village) and talked about how extremely tempting the idea of ​​Sunday was, but not so much Sunday itself.

[In the poem,] we are at the beginning of 1800 in a small village, it is a quiet Saturday evening, everyone is happily waiting for the next day, the day of rest: the children cackle, the maidens sing, and the workers return from work laughing. It is the happiest day of the week and that is because the next day the passing of the hours will bring more and more sadness, and everyone will start thinking about Monday’s work.

I remember thinking during that reading that there was nothing more true: waiting for a joyful event brings us more joy than the event itself.

So I ask myself, is it worth it? We live life waiting for happy moments in a sort of dreaming trance, but then, when those events finally arrive, we forget to actually live them. Is this what we have to aspire to? Shouldn’t we just stop fantasizing about the future and start embracing the present?

Winner
Sophene Avedissian, from Los Angeles, chose an article from the Opinion section headlined “Why Strangers Are Good for Us” and wrote:

I distinctly remember looking at my mom in awe as she casually chatted with the grocery store cashier. When most would answer with a few dismissive words, she seamlessly instigated an entire conversation from the cashier’s simple question of “How’s your day?” As we made our way out of the store, I turned back and noticed the corners of the cashier’s lips rise into a grin. I wondered, How can my mom so effortlessly impact someone’s day from one small, yet meaningful interaction?

As my mother seeks out these moments to connect, I avoid them. In elementary school, I hid behind my mom at gatherings as she spoke to others. In middle school, I often replied “no” to invitations to avoid the awkwardness of meeting new people. Now, in high school, I hope that by wearing my pair of rose-gold headphones, others feel discouraged to talk to me.

In “Why Strangers Are Good for Us,” David Sax identifies that engaging with strangers “connect[s] us to the community, teach[es] us empathy, build[s] civility and [is] full of surprise and potentially wonder.” Sax explains when we disregard strangers, we weaken what is at the “core of our social contract.” The technological evolution combined with the pandemic has forced “our world [to grow even more] inward and suspicions.”

I take a deep breath, slip off my headphones, and start talking to the person next to me as we both wait for our takeout order.

It’s a start.

Winner
Sydny Horge, from Washington, D.C., chose an Opinion video called “How to Fall Out of Love With Your Lawn” and wrote:

If you ask my dad, he’ll tell you there are many things I dislike. But there are few things I hate more than edging useless grass. Once a week, every week for three quarters of the year I spend 30 minutes to an hour hunched over at an excruciating angle to make our lawn a geometric shape. Halfway into a normal job, my eyes sting with sweat while mosquitoes mercilessly attack any exposed flesh. The recent heat waves made the temperature feel like triple digits, but I still had to be out there, edging my life away.

Watching this video showed me that not only are we wasting time and money, but also our most precious resource: water. I think about California and the West’s aridification problem and other global water crises and struggle with how indirectly-affected people can see that and then continue to regularly drench their turf.

I do have some idea, though, of the status symbol aspect of a flat, green expanse. My dad grew up deep in the projects of New York City, where trees were a rare sight, let alone lawns. For decades both government-funded programs and private companies discriminated against Black people and severely limited our available suburban housing and home equity. My family’s modest, well-maintained (however difficultly) yard reminds him of how far he’s come as a homeowner, and of the better childhood he’s given me.

This might finally show him that success doesn’t have to cost the environment.