I’ve always responded with music; happiness, sadness, anger. The same is true for grief.

It was March 18, 2016; what would have been my dad’s 50th birthday. I had mixed feelings: on one hand, I was glad he was in a better place. On the other hand, I was melancholy that I couldn’t go over to his house and eat chips with sour cream, slurping and spooning Coke Icees while we watched black and white TV shows. Since I couldn’t see him anymore, I was at home, waiting for a friend to come over, and putting away the trinkets I had purchased at the mall earlier that day.Then, I decided to listen to some music.

I scrolled through my playlist, bored with the tempos I had tapped my feet to a thousand times over. Suddenly, I noticed a song I hadn’t heard.I clicked on the title, and the introductory piano sounded throughout my ear canal like an echo in a cave.”Welcome to the Black Parade” was a song I had previously suspected as boring,but halfway through the song the melody switches from a dainty piano to a hardcore electric guitar, and I busted out dancing the second I heard that first chord. I knew I looked like something between being electrocuted and having a spasm, but I didn’t care. I jumped up and down in my Gold Toe ankle socks and did a volleyball roll across my bed.I just let go, and the rest of the world was nonexistent; it was just me and my earbuds.

I was panting so hard when the song ended that my mom panicked, worried I was having a humongous asthma attack

Slam! I heard a car door shut outside my window. “She’s here!” I squealed, “ I’ll get the door, Mom!” I sprinted to the door of my colorful bedroom, hesitating for a moment. I looked at the photo of my dad and I on my first Christmas in the frame I had painted for him. I touched two fingers to my lips and pressed them to the cool glass.”I love you.” I whispered. Then, I jogged outside to greet Hannah, her mom, and her little sister, Emma. “ Hey, weirdo!” Hannah giggled.
I know now that my dad is not dead, but simply at a new stage in life. I guess you really can’t judge at a glance.

You say I’m disabled,

In a way, so are you,

We are no different.

I love to hear music,

I bet you do, too,

We are no different.

I want to express myself,

You do it all day,

We are no different.

I want to be normal,

You struggle to, too,

We are no different.

I have potential,

I see it in you,

We are no different.

I am imperfect,

You know you are, too,

We are no different.

We are both people,

You know it is true,

We are no different.

I have learned a lot about the Holocaust over the past couple of months, but one thing that really stuck out was how someone, (Hitler), could be so hateful towards the Jews. When Hitler was young, his father was an alcoholic and wasn’t at home much. I understand how that feels because my parents are divorced and my dad was an alcoholic, but still it amazes me how differently Hitler reacted compared to how I did to the nearly exact same situation. Hitler’s mother encouraged him to be an artist, but his father disagreed. Hitler decided to apply to an art school despite his father’s advice. The school board was made up of Jews, and Hitler was a Christian.  The school board said that his artwork wasn’t good enough for him to go to school there, therefore Hitler decided that all Jews were evil and a major flaw in society.
Another thing I learned about during the Holocaust unit is how intellect can be taken for granted and used for evil,  an example being Josef Mengele.He was a brilliant scientist who was fascinated with twins. He would inject chemicals into children’s eyes to make them blue and tried to genetically alter them to make them have blond hair. So many children and mothers died because of these experiments. The idea of my older brother and I being experimented on is unimaginable, and it would be crippling if he and I had been twins. This has shown me that when you are given gifts, you must be very careful as to how you use them.

Dear Diary,

I am so afraid. And to think just a week ago my biggest problem was Annemarie beating me in a foot race! How is it that so much can change in a week?

It all started right before Jewish New Year; when Peter came. (Peter is a close family friend of Annemarie’s.) He took my parents. No, he is not a kidnapper, he just took them to a place that is safer for them than Copenhagen. I am so afraid, because my imagination can think of none other than the worst possible scenarios. However, Mr. Rosen, Annemarie’s Papa, promises me that they are safe. I just hope that there wasn’t a mishap and my parents got ‘relocated’. I am not sure what that is, but Mr. Johansen says it is awful.

I am staying with the Johansen’s. Annemarie and I are sharing her bed. I felt like I was intruding, but Mr Rosen said, “Once I had three daughters. Tonight I am proud to have three daughters again.”

Annemarie is asleep, so she doesn’t know I am writing. I hope she never reads this; she knows I am frightened, but I do not believe she understands just how scared I am. It would be so exciting spending the night if only I knew where my parent’s were! I am proud to be Jewish, but also afraid that my beliefs will get me in trouble.What they’re doing is simply bullying! It is similar to when we were three and teased each other relentlessly.

Oh, how interesting it would be if this were a doll game! Annemarie and I would play this more than Gone with the Wind! But it is my real life. That truth is still sinking in.

Anyway, I will soon write again.

 With love,

          Ellen Rosen

Click here

He drove out

all by himself

simply to see us

while the threat

of a tornado

loomed over my head

as though it owned me

but he came all the same

and I’m not sure to say

that I would do that myself

Terrified but sure

that I would hear

the dreadful siren

taunting me for my fear

of all that it stood for

though all I heard

was my grandpa say

that he brought me

a present for New Year’s day

Bubble wrap!

Hooray!

Pop!

it suited me so well

Pop!

I loved it so much

and it calmed me down

Pop!

I grinned giddily

Pop!

Right in Mom’s face!

Pop!

Boom!

I winced at the diverse sound

and cowered

as I stared right at the ground.

But then

Grandpa knelt down

and picked me up

as I looked at him

warily

and he said,

“It’s okay

we’ll be fine.”

Boom!

And then

he said something

that has kept me calm

and will for years to come

he said something

I will never forget

He said,

“God’s sittin’

up in heaven

poppin’ his bubble wrap

just like you.”

And every storm,

tornado

hurricane

flood

and possibly a blizzard

can can no longer shake me,

scare me

or even annoy me

And if that taunting siren

ever gets close

I will simply

remember the bubble wrap……..

Pop!

 Communicating in person and with technology are alike in many ways. One way they are alike is that you are still communicating with a person. Just make sure that you know the person you are communicating with. Another way that they are alike is that you can share photos. For example, once, I meant to send my friend a photo, but my tablet glitched and I accidentally sent the photo to everyone but her, so I just showed her a copy the next day at school. A third way that these two forms of communicating are similar is that you can meet new people; on the street or on a screen.
Communicating in person and with technology are also extremely different. One way that they are diverse is that there is a lack of connection with technology that you can only get communicating in person. Another way that communicating in person and with technology are different is that you can’t be sure who you are talking to on technology. My friend has a lot of followers on Instagram, so it’s inevitable that she doesn’t know all of them. Once, she thought she was approving her cousin to follow her, but she was actually approving a professional hacker to see all her pictures and information. The hacker emailed her a nasty virus, and even though her computer got fixed, she unfollowed a lot of strangers that day. A third way that they are different is that your message can be misinterpreted while using technology. For example, you could send a text that was meant to be a joke, but because the receiver does not see your body language or facial cues, their feelings could be hurt by it. The key is to communicate in person and with technology in moderation