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About
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The Renaissance is Rock Ridge High School’s student-run literary magazine. We encourage student artists to submit poetry, prose, photography, drawings, sketches, short fiction, digital artwork, and more, to be featured in our annual digital/print magazine. As a club, we determine a yearly theme, review submissions, fundraise, design, and distribute our magazine. Katy Greiner (katy.greiner@lcps.org) is our sponsor.
Editor's Note
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In a year where everyone is trying their best, life appears normal at the surface. After nearly 18 months apart, we have all changed—things that seemed familiar and comforting are now distantand unsettling. From hiding behind a mask to relearning how to participate in face-to-face conversations, we have tried to understand what “normal” actually means to us and find ourselves questioning once everyday happenings.
In this issue, you’ll read stories about what students hold close, thoughtful reflections from the year, and well-crafted poetry about everyday occurrences as students explore how “back to business” they really are.
Staff
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Nanaki Preet Bawa, Editor-in-Chief
Sydney Nguyen, Design & Publicity Editor
Alexis Cortés Negrón, Managing Editor
Tvisha Vanteru, Managing Editor
Siya Acharya
Samhita Bellary
Diya Chand
Riya Ghoghari
Eveline Josselyn
Divya Maddineni
Nitya Matcha
Nostalgia
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Am I nostalgic? Am I nostalgic for the innocent little girl I once was? Am I nostalgic for the raw smiles and light air around me in the videos on my mom's aged iPad? I yearn for warmth, happiness, better times. If I type in “nostalgia” on Google, it reads: “a sentimental longful or wistful affection of the past, typically for a period or place with happy personal associations.”
I agree with nostalgia being longful, but I am not sure if happy is the right word to associate nostalgia with. To me, nostalgia is grieving. I mourn the happy little girl in those old videos. I mourn the lost innocence and the feeling of no stress. I grieve my old self. I grieve the comfort of having time. Everyday I am reassured of having everything and everyone so close to me, but one day they will just be memories. Some already are. And sometimes, I wish I could go back.
I wouldn’t want to go on my awkward first date again or go through another long dance or volleyball practice, but I mourn that part of my life that is over. I ache, because I will never have that again. I have so much sentiment for the years that passed right in front of my eyes and I find myself pitying the present thinking of those times, knowing I can never go back. Knowing I’ll never be the same. I wonder how I can miss someone that I carry within me every single day. How can I keep missing someone I never left? Am I able to grieve and mourn myself? I look at myself in the mirror and think of my current status.
I panic.
How did I get here?
