Isabela Alvarez Harris, Grade 11
UWC-USA
Although I am from Ecuador—a beautifully temperate place where 10 degrees is enough to bring out puffy “winter” jackets and gather to drink hot tea around a brick fireplace—I spent the majority of my years in Minnesota. Having moved to the state when I was eight, I got to experience many Minnesotan winters. The first one was incredible, to say the least. As a child who had only seen snow in Christmas movies and pictures of far-away lands, my first blizzard was magical. I remember watching the perfect little crystals fall from the sky and create a soft white blanket over the city and thinking that it could not get more beautiful than this. Sledging, making snowmen and having snowball fights quickly became my favourite winter pastime.
As each year passed, the novelty and excitement of snow began to fade. Instead of anxiously anticipating the frost on my windows and counting the days until I could dust off my snow boots, I began to dread the dropping temperatures and having to scrape the ice off of the car windshield before leaving for school. I no longer looked at the snow as the beautiful, white blanket that I once had. Instead, I noticed how it turned an ugly, muddy grey colour from the pollution of passing cars, and filled the skies with heavy clouds that kept the sun hidden for months at a time. The magic of snow had been lost for me.
When I heard that the UWC campus in New Mexico was going to have snow, I almost cried. It was the desert, for goodness sake! It felt like my least favourite meteorological phenomenon had somehow found a way to follow me to the most hidden corner of the U.S. I grumbled as I packed my winter jacket into my suitcase, feeling saddened and annoyed.
Everything changed when the first snow fell in Montezuma. That morning, I woke up to my two best friends from Germany and Israel already wrapped up in scarves and smiling from ear to ear like little children on Christmas day. They dragged me out of bed, almost jumping from excitement. After dressing quickly, we all ran outside. The mountains were heavily coated in a layer of snow, and the Montezuma castle looked like a postcard. But it was watching my friend’s reactions that changed everything for me. My friend from Israel had never seen snow before, and she stood in pure joy and amazement as she watched the snowflakes falling gently. She spun around with her arms outstretched and giggled as she stuck her tongue out, trying to catch a cold flake on her tongue. “Izzy, can you believe how amazing this is?” she laughed.
Being part of a community with people from all over the world—each with their own incredibly unique experiences—allowed me to see a country which I had lived in for so many years through fresh eyes. When I found out that I was not going to be studying abroad, I thought that I had lost the chance to experience many new things. But the truth was quite the opposite: I had been given the gift of renewed gratitude and appreciation for the beauty that had been lost on me. I am sure that many others who were chosen to attend a UWC in their home countries or cultures have come to the same realization.
Classes were cancelled for the rest of the day as my friends from places that never got a single snowflake played like young children, screaming and throwing snowballs at each other in utter joy. And joining friends from all over the world under the Montezuma skies, the girl who had once lost her love of snow fell back under its magical spell.
As each year passed, the novelty and excitement of snow began to fade. Instead of anxiously anticipating the frost on my windows and counting the days until I could dust off my snow boots, I began to dread the dropping temperatures and having to scrape the ice off of the car windshield before leaving for school. I no longer looked at the snow as the beautiful, white blanket that I once had. Instead, I noticed how it turned an ugly, muddy grey colour from the pollution of passing cars, and filled the skies with heavy clouds that kept the sun hidden for months at a time. The magic of snow had been lost for me.
When I heard that the UWC campus in New Mexico was going to have snow, I almost cried. It was the desert, for goodness sake! It felt like my least favourite meteorological phenomenon had somehow found a way to follow me to the most hidden corner of the U.S. I grumbled as I packed my winter jacket into my suitcase, feeling saddened and annoyed.
Everything changed when the first snow fell in Montezuma. That morning, I woke up to my two best friends from Germany and Israel already wrapped up in scarves and smiling from ear to ear like little children on Christmas day. They dragged me out of bed, almost jumping from excitement. After dressing quickly, we all ran outside. The mountains were heavily coated in a layer of snow, and the Montezuma castle looked like a postcard. But it was watching my friend’s reactions that changed everything for me. My friend from Israel had never seen snow before, and she stood in pure joy and amazement as she watched the snowflakes falling gently. She spun around with her arms outstretched and giggled as she stuck her tongue out, trying to catch a cold flake on her tongue. “Izzy, can you believe how amazing this is?” she laughed.
Being part of a community with people from all over the world—each with their own incredibly unique experiences—allowed me to see a country which I had lived in for so many years through fresh eyes. When I found out that I was not going to be studying abroad, I thought that I had lost the chance to experience many new things. But the truth was quite the opposite: I had been given the gift of renewed gratitude and appreciation for the beauty that had been lost on me. I am sure that many others who were chosen to attend a UWC in their home countries or cultures have come to the same realization.
Classes were cancelled for the rest of the day as my friends from places that never got a single snowflake played like young children, screaming and throwing snowballs at each other in utter joy. And joining friends from all over the world under the Montezuma skies, the girl who had once lost her love of snow fell back under its magical spell.
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