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Star Date 1273 - Kayla Rosenberg

Nature and I collide and connect. The wholeness that nature instills inspires me to know that I can accomplish anything and even at my own pace. From the top of a mountain to the depths of the darkest cave, nature and I align. My first deep experience with nature taught me of my inner strength. In the fourth grade, my mother, uncle, brother, and I set out for an underground journey in a cave for two days. Though the actual trip to the cave seemed monotonous and dull to all the other explorers on the bus, I stared out the window marveling at the subtle changes in scenery and the oddly familiar yet totally unrecognizable feelings that began to stir within me. With my first few steps into that dark world, I felt safe and free having no fear of the unknown depths, unexplored. We walked deeper and deeper into the black abyss that was the cave. Though we had nothing but a lantern, I felt as though some form of life greater than myself was with me. I knew that nature was the greater force. I, through this connection, knew who I was and what I could discover. A cave is a place with narrow spaces where the earth hugs you tight. It offers unexpected twists and turns. It is a place where you are sometimes blind and sometimes deaf, sometimes small and sometimes much too big. Unlike the other spelunkers, my goal was not to get through the passage but to slowly admire each unobserved detail, each formation or fossil. I lingered behind, savoring each new experience, and I felt that nothing could satisfy my ponderous yearning for more adventure and exploration, exploration not only of the cave, but also of myself. I could not shake this feeling of empowerment, nor would I ever want to. Putting my trust and total self into nature helped me to realize my cavernous self. This experience inside the bowels of the earth taught me to see beauty and have hope in all that surrounds me. Though it may be small and it may be fragile, it may be tight or it may be constricting, it is in that bit of hope that we are free. I learned to collide with nature and to create an unspoken, yet emotionally verbose and vibrant, connection with the greatness of life that surrounds me.

I have always been a bit of a stubborn person. The nicest way to describe my situation would be to say I have an “intense determination,” which, at times, is the case. However, truth be told, much of my time is spent fighting battles that could easily be avoided if I were less hardheaded. When I was in the tenth grade, I fought a long and arduous battle with a teacher about my attire. I wore hats. I wore a different hat every day without fail. Everyone was fine with my funky and “out-there” chapeaux, everyone except for the algebra teacher. She deplored my hats and would ask me to take them off in her class because she found it to be rude. I complied at first to what seemed to me to be a strange hatred of an accessory, but eventually I found myself taking up arms to fight in defense of my hats. The battle raged on for almost the entirety of the year. Seven times I suffered imprisonment in detention under the fist of Mr. Volpe, leading to a final confrontation with the supreme head of the upper school, Dr. Ray. Though it may seem foolish, there is more depth to my stubbornness that makes it more of an intense determination. My defense of the headgear is not so plain as it seems. It was the defense of my individuality and a determination to preserve every part of me that makes me unique. What seemed simply as contempt for the czars of fashion was truly a physical manifestation of who I am. I am striving toward reducing my stubbornness, but I am bent on refining my intense determination.

I can be very quirky and I like to think that I'm funny.