The Courage of Children: Boston and Beyond XXXIII

THE COURAGE OF CHILDREN: 

Boston and Beyond 

Award-winning essays on courage written 

by sixth grade students participating in 

The Max Warburg Courage Curriculum

THE COURAGE OF CHILDREN: 

BOSTON AND BEYOND 

VOLUME XXXIII 

2024 

Award-winning essays on courage 

written by middle school students participating in 

The Max Warburg Courage Curriculum

The Board of Trustees and staff of The Max Warburg Courage Curriculum, Inc. 

would like to express their sincere gratitude and appreciation to those individuals 

and organizations who have given so generously of their time, talent, and energy 

to THE COURAGE OF CHILDREN: BOSTON AND BEYOND, 

VOLUME XXXIII. 

TABLE OF CONTENTS 

DEDICATION 

THE MAX WARBURG COURAGE CURRICULUM, INC. 

IX 

X 

EDITING 

Molly McCafferty 

Elizabeth Evans D’Ascensao 

Alexandra Marshall 

Carrie Coughlin 

CHAMPION OF COURAGE AWARD 

XI 

ELSIE WILMERDING AWARD FOR EXCELLENCE IN TEACHING 

XI 

2024 ESSAY JUDGES XII 

EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR’S NOTE BY CARRIE COUGHLIN 

XIV 

PHOTOS 

All photographs were kindly submitted by students’ schools or parents/caregivers. 

Credit for Max’s photo: Condée N. Russo 

PREFACE BY ELIZABETH EVANS D’ASCENSAO 

MAX’S STORY BY STEPHANIE WARBURG AND CHARLOTTE HARRIS 

XV 

XVI 

NORTHEASTERN UNIVERSITY REPROGRAPHICS 

Marina Flessas and Andrew Boucek, Cover Design, Book Layout, 

Pre-press and Production 

Founded in 1898, Northeastern University is a private research university 

located in the heart of Boston. Northeastern is a leader in experiential 

learning, interdisciplinary scholarship, urban engagement, and research 

that meets global and societal needs. 

www.northeastern.edu 

THE COURAGE OF CHILDREN: BOSTON AND BEYOND, VOLUME XXXIII 

is a publication of The Max Warburg Courage Curriculum, Inc. 

© 2024 The Max Warburg Courage Curriculum, Inc. 

THE COURAGE OF CHILDREN: BOSTON AND BEYOND 

II 

NATIONAL PROGRAM 1 

COURAGE IN MY LIFE 2 

EDWIN QUEZADA PEGUERO — DAN CESARIO 4 

Joseph P. Tynan Elementary School, Boston, MA 

MONICA NASCIMENTO — STEFANIE LYN MACHADO 6 

Keith Middle School, New Bedford, MA 

ESMÉ FIELDS — AMY ROJEK 8 

Community Preparatory School, Providence, RI 

ISAMEL MEJIA — HELEN SULLIVAN 10 

Joseph J. Hurley K-8 School, Boston, MA 

KARIS YU — EMILY WU 12 

Josiah Quincy Upper School, Boston, MA 

LOUISA FIX — JEANINE STANSFIELD 14 

Warren-Prescott K-8 School, Boston, MA 

PAMELA DE LA ROSA — TED DOOLIN 16 

William H. Ohrenberger School, Boston, MA 

LANAYIA BROWN — TAENARI PHILLIPS-THOMPSON 18 

Menino YMCA Afterschool Program, Boston, MA 

WILEINY ROMERO LARA — HELEN SULLIVAN 20 



III

EIDAN GONZALEZ — AARON COHEN 22 

Blackstone Elementary School, Boston, MA 

TALIA GUITY DOUGLIN — MICHAELA BROTMAN 24 

Mother Caroline Academy, Boston, MA 

ANDREW CAIAZZO — MERRILL HAWKINS 26 

The Park School, Brookline, MA 

ELISHA PIERRESAINT — KAITLYN CURRY 28 

South Shore Charter Public School, Norwell, MA 

DANIELA SANCHES DE OLIVEIRA — MARY WALL 30 

Barnstable Intermediate School, Barnstable, MA 

LARIMAR BATISTA PEREZ — KYLE FARNWORTH 32 

Normandin Middle School, New Bedford, MA 

LUCIA “LULU” MOFFI — AMY HIGGINBOTHAM AND RICHARD SCHENA 34 

Dennis C. Haley Pilot School, Boston, MA 

KENSLEY MOORE — LOIS COYNE 36 

The Woodward School for Girls, Quincy, MA 

KENDALL REID — ALEX JONES 38 


MARINA STANDE — BONNIE HICKEY 40 


SUMMER MAKI — MELANIE SMITH 42 


OLIVER PATEL — SARAH TRAN 46 

St. Agatha School, Milton, MA 

STACY JEAN JOSEPH — MELISSA MA AND NICOLE PRECOURT 48 

Salemwood School, Malden, MA 

AAMNA SHAH — SARA COYLE 50 

Beverly Hills Academy, Beverly Hills, MI 

AISLING ROYAL — AMY HIGGINBOTHAM AND RICHARD SCHENA 52 


ANNABEL BLIER — DIONNE MANCHESTER 54 


MAIYA YANCY — TED DOOLIN 56 


MASON FINN — FAITH SMITH 58 

South Boston Catholic Academy, Boston, MA 

NOORAH A. — KENDALL A. 60 

Alhuda Academy, Worcester, MA 

ISAIAH GREEN — JAMIE CANAVAN 62 


AMINA AWAN — BRENDAN MORRISON 64 

Al-Noor Academy, Mansfield, MA 

ISABELLA CHAREST — VALERIE CARVALHO 66 


ILLIA LEBEDIEV — SCOTT LARIVEE 68 

Mary Lyon K-8 School, Boston, MA 

EVAN OSTAPCHUK — MICHAEL ANDREWS 70 


RIELLY SILVA — RYAN KAPLAN 72 


HOLLY NEWELL — LAURA BOSSE 74 


PAIGE ALLAN — LINDSAY WORSTELL AND ALEX FERNANDES 76 


JAHMAL DESENCLOS — MELISSA MA AND NICOLE PRECOURT 78 


JESSA NULSEN — MARY BUDROSE 80 

Proctor Elementary School, Topsfield, MA 

LILIANA WARD — ERIN HANNON-FOLEY AND LIZMARIE ARGUETA 84 

Franklin D. Roosevelt K-8 School, Boston, MA 

AYDEN AUDETTE — CATHERINE CASEY-PAULL 88 


JENNIFER BERAS ARIAS — AARON COHEN 90 


MIA CONNELLY — SARA DEOREO 92 


SELENA ST. PIERRE-OLIVEIRA — SABINA KOZAK 94 

Our Sisters’ School, New Bedford, MA 

DORINE ALFRED — ALICIA REINES-LEO 96 


ILYAS HENSHAW — RUHEENA RAZVI 98 

Homeschool, Mansfield, MA 

ALI BARRIE — MATTHEW BREWER 100 

Covenant Preparatory School, Hartford, CT 

LEAH MEDINA — AARON COHEN 102 



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V

SAMYIA HORSLEY — ERIN HANNON-FOLEY AND LIZMARIE ARGUETA 104 


SERENA HARU ROSENTHAL — SCOTT LARIVEE 106 


AUDREY DYCHIUCHAY — RONALD RODRIGUEZ 110 

John A. Otis Elementary School, National City, CA 

MARYAM BANKA — SARA COYLE 112 


ANTONIA VELEZ — ALEXANDER CHOE AND JOHN ZIEMBA 114 

EDR Step Up Summer Camp, Brockton, MA 

DIEGO DE LEON MERIDA — MELISSA MA AND NICOLE PRECOURT 116 


AVERY HUGHSON — JEANINE STANSFIELD 118 


AZARIAH TYLER — AARON KESLER AND ALISON SPADE 120 

Boston Renaissance Charter Public School, Boston, MA 

JESS SURNAMER — ALEX JONES 122 


MORGAN MULREY — MICHAEL ANDREWS 124 


HADLEY RUBBICCO — SARA DEOREO 126 


MAPLE GAIL MCLAREN — KATE LYNCH 130 


SYLVIA EVERSON — KAITLYN CURRY 132 


MUKTI SHAH — KAITLYN CURRY 134 


LUCY LORENZ — KATIE BAUER AND ISABEL PIPER 136 

North Yarmouth Academy, Yarmouth, ME 

LIVI MEEHAN — AMY ROJEK 138 


INTERNATIONAL PROGRAM 141 

COURAGE AROUND THE GLOBE 142 

E. BAYARJARGAL — M. MUNKHDULAM 144 

4th School of Uvurkhangai Province, Uvurkhangai Province, Mongolia 

M. EGSHIGLEN — M. ERDENECHIMEG 146 

6th Secondary School of Arkhangai Province, Arkhangai Province, Mongolia 

N. ALTANTSOOJ — N. MUNKH-ERDENE 148 

5th School of Bayankhongor Province, Bayankhongor Province, Mongolia 

R. JAMBALDORJ — M. MUNKHDULAM 150 

4th school of Uvurkhangai Province, Uvurkhangai Province, Mongolia 

T. JAVZANDULAM — T. TERGEL 152 

79th School, Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia 

U. TUVSHINZAYA — J. OUYN-ERDENE 154 

School #2, Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia 

ESILA NAZ ILGIN — MELIS AKAR 156 

Kaynarca Ortaokulu/Hisar Okullari, Kirklareli Province, Turkey 

KEREM ALCO — EMIR MENDA 158 


ABDULLAH OMAR — DR. AISHA THAWAB AND MOHAMMED DHIAB 160 

Al-Abbas Primary School, Hajjah Governorate, Yemen 

EKRAM MOHAMMED — HAIFA AL-JABOBI AND ZAMZAM AL-MOAYAD 162 

Soudah School, Sana’a Governorate, Yemen 

MASARRAH AL-SABER — FAT-HIAH AQLAN 164 

Ajyal Al-Ula School, Ibb Governorate, Yemen 

MOHAMMED HANI — ELHAM AL-ASH-HAB 166 

Al-Qairawan School, Sana’a Governorate, Yemen 

NADA HANI — TALAL SALEH, EBTIHAL SALEH, AND FATIMA MUBARAK 168 

Khadigah School, Hadhramaut Governorate, Yemen 

SUNG TAO HOUR — PHALLA OL 170 

The Cambridge Cambodia School, Kampong Cham Province, Cambodia 

KHON DALIS — PHALLA OL 172 

The Cambridge Cambodia School, Kampong Cham Province, Cambodia 

VIVIENNE LEIJDEKKER — DAWN AUSTIN 174 

American School of Barcelona, Barcelona, Spain 


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VII


Volume XXXIII 

is dedicated to the families of current MAXFellows 

and alumni, with gratitude for their support and 

strength. The stories shared within this, and every, 

volume of The Courage of Children come to life 

within the context of classrooms, communities, and 

families. We recognize the vulnerability and courage 

required to see these stories shared. Thank you for 

the invaluable role you play. 


VIII 


IX

THE MAX WARBURG 

COURAGE CURRICULUM, INC. 

CHAMPION OF COURAGE AWARD 

BOARD OF TRUSTEES 

Stephanie Warburg, Founder 

and President 

Frederick Warburg, Vice President 

Elizabeth Evans D’Ascensao, Secretary 

Lynda Schweitzer Wood, Treasurer 

Amy d’Ablemont Burnes 

Astrid Burns 

Sally Fay Cottingham 

C.J. Hacker 

Jill Lenhardt 

Kate Lubin 

Ann Ogilvie Macdonald 

Marsha MacLean 

Kristen Sullivan McEntyre 

Ryan Naples 

Mimi Neal Eger 

Julie Norman 

Sam Plimpton 

Diane Schmalansee 

Clayton Schuller 

Jane Skelton 

BOARD EMERITI 

Carrie Minot Bell 

Suzanne Fisher Bloomberg 

Barbara Hawkins 

Pamela Humphrey 

Joan Bennett Kennedy 

STAFF 

Carrie Coughlin, Executive Director 

Molly McCafferty, Program Director 

Christopher Altomare, 

Program Intern 

Madison McNeil, Development Intern 

ADVISORY BOARD 

Blakeman Allen 

Peter Alvarez (1996 MAXFellow) 

Carrie Minot Bell 

Katie Schuller Bleakie 

Yvan Bodart 

Amanda Bradford 

Michelle Brito 

Mabel Cabot 

Linda Champion 

Lisa Clark 

Melissa Cohen 

Janet Coleman 

Heather Faris 

Carmen Fields 

Sidik Fofana (1995 MAXFellow) 

Robert Gittens, Esq. 

Elizabeth Goodenough 

Ann Gund 

Katherine McManmon Hoyt 

Kasey Kaufman 

Rona Kiley 

Martha Kurz 

Gil Leaf 

Joyce Linehan 

Lois Lowry 


Afnan Nehela (2007 MAXFellow) 

Martha Pierce 

Madeline Pongor 

Tina Rathborne 

Colleen Reilly 

Alex Saltonstall 

Ellen Segal 

Mary Tamer 

Jonathan Warburg 

Joyce Yaffee 

The Champion of Courage Award is given annually in recognition for 

outstanding volunteerism at MAXCourage. Past recipients have been board 

members and long-time volunteers who have given their time, treasure, and 

talent to the organization. Awardees go above and beyond the call of duty 

to advance MAXCourage’s mission and champion the students and teachers 

we serve. 

We honor JOYCE LINEHAN as the 2024 recipient of the Champion 

of Courage Award. 

ELSIE WILMERDING AWARD FOR 

EXCELLENCE IN TEACHING 

The MAXCourage Board of Trustees is honored to present the Elsie 

Wilmerding Award for Excellence in Teaching. Named in honor of our late 

and long-time board member, this award celebrates Elsie’s talent and passion 

for teaching, and the tremendous impact teachers can have in the lives of 

young people. After spending 13 years as a learning specialist at the Fenn 

School, Elsie authored writing workbooks and a young adult historical novel, 

This Land is Mine! Elsie was known for her patience, kindness, and creativity 

with her students. 

We honor AARON COHEN, of the Blackstone Elementary School in 

Boston’s South End, as the 2024 recipient of the Elsie Wilmerding Award for 

Excellence in Teaching. 


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XI

2024 ESSAY JUDGES 

2024 ESSAY JUDGES 

Shazneen Aga 

Diana Alessandrini 

Blakeman Allen 

Christopher Altomare 

Carmen Alvarez 

Jennifer Amstutz 

Madeleine Anderson 

Jennifer Baker 

Gabrielle Baron 

Jennifer Barrett Crocker 

Rachel Belanger 

Sonya Bhabhalia 

Elisa Birdseye 

Jacob Bombard 

Albina Boyle 

Amanda Bradford 

Karen Britton 

Eileen Brophy 

Anna Brown 

Lisa Brown 

Astrid Burns 

Bithiah Carter 

Roudnie Célestin 

Linda Champion 

Ryan Christensen 

Lisa Clark 

David Cody 

Donna E. Cohen 

Marisa Connors Hoyt 

Merry Conway 

Kit Cunningham 

Beverley Daniel 

Doc Daugherty 

Arie Derksen 

Margaret Donahue 

Candace Douglas 

Gabrielle Downey 

Mimi Eger 

Nancy Eliodor 

Lauren Erlingheuser 

Becky Evans 

Rebecka Evans 

Mubaraka Ezzi 

Debra Farrar-Parkman 

Felicity Forbes Hoyt 

Hugh Fortmiller 

Magdalena Gaillot 

Anna Gall 

Brendan Gastelum 

Nathalie Gauthier 

Lumina Gershfield 

Celia Grant 

Michelle Greene 

JB Greenway 

Amy Grossman 

C.J. Hacker 

Donna Hart 

Julia Henderson 

Magda Hernandez 

Colin Hogan 

Clare Horn 

Caroline Howe 

Ade Igbineweka 

Courtney Jacobovits 

Katie Jensen 

Judy Kamm 

Brittany Kelly 

Katherine Kennedy 

Kathleen Kenney 

Sajid Khan 

Olivia Kleschinsky 

Riddhi Kuppa 

Martha Kurz 

Maggie Lawler 

Nicole Lee 

Kristi Leerink 

Yelena Lembersky 

Karen Leopold 

Joyce Linehan 

Xiqiao Liu 

Alice Lucey 

Malaika Lucien 

Zara Mahmood 

Noreen Markley 


Kristen Sullivan 

McEntyre 

Madison McNeil 

Jennifer McNeil 

Stacy Metcalf 

Midori Morikawa 

Ryan Thomas Naples 

Afnan Nehela 

Jane Nichols 

Chelsea O’Brien 

Jesselynn Opie 

Marisol Pacheco 

Dwan Packnett 

Lori Paglia 

Dhruv Pateel 

Reena Patel 

Sheilja Patel 

Samuel S. Plimpton 

Madeline Pongor 

Andrea Praeger 

Jenny Rademacher 

Sasha Rauch-Kelly 

Alexandra Rauch-Kelly 

Joe Regan 

April Rey 

Pamela Robbins 

Alejandra Robles 

Suleyca Romano 

Condée N. Russo 

Jackie Sankardyal 

Diane Schmalensee 

Richard Schmalensee 

Lynda Schweitzer Wood 

Ellen Segal 

Tyler Silvey 

Fion Sin 

Jane Skelton 

Epp Sonin 

Ruth Steel 

Tamara Stephens 

Brennah Sullivan 

Mary Tamer 

Savera Tasawar 

Lara Taylor 

Alyssa Teese 

Elizabeth Thomas 

Joan Tobin 

Shayla Tran 

Hayley Tullis 

Shamaiah Turner 

Natalia Urtubey 

Katherine Van Woert 

Linnea Walsh 

Jonathan F. Warburg 

Frederick Warburg 

Amy Wertheim 

Domonique Williams 

Sydney Williams 

Carol Wintle 

BOSTON LATIN SCHOOL 

STUDENTS 

Rajika Bajgain 

Nora Connolly 

Thomas Germain 

Melanie Guilderson 

Caroline Hubbard 

Ava MacKinnon 

Mairead O’Donnell 

Clara Ryan 

Morgan Vail 

Catherine Vu 

Morgan White 

Martha Pierce, 

Coordinator 

RIVERS SCHOOL 

STUDENTS 

Joyce Do 

Taylor Hauff 

Justin Jang 

Valentina Joseph 

Marina Joseph 

Saylor Leerink 

Alison Leiva 

Pepper Taylor 

Winnie Wood 

Lucas Malo, 

Coordinator 

WOODWARD SCHOOL 

STUDENTS 

Hannah Charron 

Hadley Duncan 

Brianna Francois 

Adria Kraja 

Nyla Montauban 

Starr Pierre 

Leah Terry 

Abigail Williams 

Gretchen Petersen, 

Coordinator 


XII 


XIII

EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR’S NOTE 

BY CARRIE COUGHLIN 

PREFACE 

BY ELIZABETH EVANS D’ASCENSAO 

As we go to press on Volume XXXIII of The Courage of Children: Boston and 

Beyond, the need for our program has grown tremendously, in large part due to 

the continued struggles with loss of learning and stress and trauma for students 

brought about by COVID-19. In 1991, the Warburgs were motivated to honor 

their own son’s courage and looked to create something to help children in 

Boston to find courage in their own lives, and to note that doing the right thing 

can enhance one’s life. What MAXCourage became, how it grew, and how it 

motivated a generation of children to find their voice, tell their story, be brave, 

and be proud, is a testament to the power of storytelling and of resilience. 

Providing a new out-of-school time program—The MAXCourage Writers’ 

Workshop Series—last year increased accessibility for all, with additional 

pathways to our capstone essay project for those in afterschool and summer 

programs. Our out-of-school time program MAXFellows now proudly take 

their places in the book alongside those who participate in the original inschool 

curriculum. Additionally, we are pleased to continue to support 

teachers with “office hours,” microgrants to fund classroom libraries, and 

school supplies. 

In the nonprofit sector, MAXCourage is small but mighty, and as we continue 

to manage capacity against the huge growth of our domestic program, I’m 

inspired by the words of Andrew Caiazzo from this year’s book: “Courage is 

the key to growing.” As MAXCourage continues to grow, we are grateful to all 

for the support provided for our organization. 

Congratulations to all of the published authors and their teachers—the 2024 

MAXCourage cohort! 

It feels as though there are so few surprises in life, yet, year after year, as we 

approach the publication of The Courage of Children: Boston and Beyond, I am 

struck by how much we cannot predict in life. Just when we think we’ve 

mastered the pattern or path, it changes. And so it goes in our relationships, 

too—with family, friends, and indeed, with ourselves. 

As you experience the stories of this year’s MAXFellows, I am certain you too 

will be impressed by the perseverance, confidence, and flexibility with which 

these students embrace life’s surprises. In some cases, we expect and hope 

a situation won’t get worse, but it does. And without exception, these 

MAXFellows persist, with great courage. They bravely seek help. They try 

again. They engage new, healthier ways of coping and processing. They are 

not afraid to admit that it’s hard. And they push on toward the next turn in 

life’s road, often without a map for what lies ahead, but empowered with 

the courage to hope, and the conviction that they deserve better. 

Thankfully, some of life’s surprises prove to be gifts. This year’s MAXFellows 

remind us to make room in our often highly regulated schedules for those 

good surprises. When we’re not attached to a specific outcome, we can be 

(pleasantly!) surprised to find that we love a new cuisine, or that our friends 

will react supportively to our news; that an impossible task can be achieved, 

or that taking a risk will be worth it. 

When you are willing to meet others—and yourself—with compassion and 

curiosity, rather than fear and judgment, you undoubtedly enrich the cast 

of characters in your life. When you let yourself remain open to possibility, 

the plot is wide open. There is room for growth. There is room for change. 

There is room for courage. 

Elizabeth Evans D’Ascensao is a Board Member and former Executive Director for The Max Warburg 

Courage Curriculum. She currently works as a content creator and consultant. 


XIV 


XV

MAX’S STORY 

BY STEPHANIE WARBURG AND CHARLOTTE HARRIS 

Max Warburg was born and brought up in Boston, Massachusetts. Not long 

ago, Max lived in an apartment near the center of the city with his parents and 

his brother, Fred. Max was two and a half years older than Fred. Max had 

wavy light brown hair and bright brown eyes, and Fred had straight black hair 

and hazel eyes, but when they smiled, they looked a lot alike even though Max 

was much bigger. 

The boys liked sports. They liked to swim in the summer, ski in the winter, and 

sail whenever they got a chance. Mostly, their father, who is an architect, had to 

work, but as often as he could he took the boys sailing, teaching them to tie 

lines, trim sails, and steer a course. 

“Here,” he would say, “Max, you take the wheel. Fred, you hold this line tight 

and Max will sail us out of the harbor.” 

And Max would. He’d stand at the helm the way he thought his father stood. 

Eyes on the sail to be sure it didn’t spill its wind, both hands on the big wheel, 

and feet spread apart, wind blowing his hair and puffing out his jacket, Max 

would play the part of the captain, dreaming of the day he would have his own 

boat. He knew exactly what he wanted: a sixteen-foot, drop-centerboard boat 

called a 420, just the right size for a twelve-year-old, which he figured he would 

be before he would ever get his 420. Then he could take Fred on some great 

sails, even on the days his dad was too busy. Better yet, then he could race and 

maybe win. 

He knew what he’d call his boat, too. Take It To The Max, he’d call it, not just 

because it had his name in it, but because it sounded like the sky was the limit 

and that’s how Max felt. 

Max had other dreams. Ever since he was little, Max had been good at 

imitating people. His mom would talk to someone on the phone, and when she 

hung up, Max could imitate her ‘talking to a stranger’ voice or ‘talking to her 

best friend’ voice perfectly. He could hear an accent once and reproduce it 

exactly. He could mimic actors and other kids, making his friends laugh and 

fascinating everyone with this ability. 

“You ought to be an actor when you grow up,” people would tell him. So he 

started looking at the actors on TV with his mind on learning acting skills and 

camera angles. 

“Mom,” Max said one day, “do you think I could ever be on TV?” 

“Well, I don’t see why not if you work at it,” she told him. Max’s mom was an 

artist, and it pleased her to see her son interested in growing up to be in one 

of the arts. Max joined a children’s theater group and went for acting lessons. 

He started to gain the confidence an actor needs, and signed up with an 

agency that looks for children to act and model. One day a call came. 

“Max, do you think you’re ready to act in a television commercial?” the 

agency representative asked. “Sure I am. Will my friends be able to see me?” 

he replied. 

“Not this time. This commercial is going to run in New Jersey, but maybe next 

time. Will you do it anyway? Right away?” 

“Oh, yes! This is my first chance!” Max ran to get his mom, and, alive with 

anticipation, Max, Fred, and their mom drove to the studio. They spent a 

day taping and re-taping. Max watched the professionals, followed directions 

intently, and caught on quickly to what was expected of him. When the long 

day was done, Max tried to guess when the next time would be that he would 

get a chance in front of the cameras. He couldn’t have guessed then that six 

short months later he would be a frequent talk show guest, but not for a 

reason anyone would want. 


XVI 


XVII

For Max, acting was fun and easy, and so was schoolwork. He loved to be with 

his friends in school, and he loved to read and figure things out. He loved to 

laugh and play jokes. At school, they called Max the peacemaker. Kids would 

argue or get to fighting, but Max would get into the middle and try to calm 

things down. Being a good sport and thinking of the other guy were Max’s way. 

In tense situations, Max would be the one to lighten things up with a joke. 

Not everything came easy. Living in the city surrounded by buildings and 

pavement, Max didn’t have much chance to play ball, but he wanted to. As 

soon as he was old enough, Max joined a baseball league. They played on the 

Boston Common. Max was the youngest player and afraid of the fastballs 

coming straight at him. A couple of times he didn’t get out of the way of the ball 

and it hit him, but he didn’t let it get him down. For one thing, he knew Fred 

was watching and he knew as the big brother he’d better get right back up. Max 

was philosophical about his shortcomings. “I’ll be better next time,” he would 

say, and then he’d work at it. He never missed a practice. Even though he never 

got to be the best player on his team, by his third season his teammates knew 

they could count on him for a solid performance. 

During the summers, Max and his family left the city for the seashore. 

One morning in July 1990, when Max was eleven, Max’s mom needed 

something at the hardware store, and Max was looking for something to do. 

“I’ll go. Let me do it,” he said, and he got on his bike and pedaled off toward 

town. About a mile from the house his front tire hit a pocket of sand the wrong 

way. The wheel skewed around sideways and Max fell. He landed on his 

shoulder, the breath knocked out of him. Hot burning pain filled his stomach 

and chest, making him curl in a ball and squeeze his eyes shut. 

Max knew something was wrong, more wrong than just a fall from his bike. 

Max’s mother knew something was really wrong as soon as she saw him walking 

beside his bike, steps slow and head down. Before he could get in the house she 

had him in the car and on the way to the local hospital emergency room. 

“Max fell off his bike and he doesn’t feel right,” Max’s mom told the doctor. 

The doctor felt Max’s back and side and the smile left her face. “What’s this 

here? His side is all swollen. I think he’s ruptured his spleen. Max is in trouble.” 

“What kind of trouble?” Max and his mom said, almost at the same time. 

“I’m not sure, but we need to find out fast,” said the doctor, frowning 

with concern. 

She called an ambulance to take Max to Children’s Hospital back in the city. 

Siren and lights clearing a path, the ambulance rushed up the highway to 


XVIII 

Boston, barely slowing down for the tight corners near the entrance to the 

hospital. Max was wheeled straight into the emergency room. 

“This doesn’t look good,” the emergency room doctor said. 

“If my spleen is split, why don’t you operate on me and sew it up?” Max 

wanted to know. 

“Can you sew Jell-O? That’s what a spleen looks like. Not much to look at, but 

good to have because that’s what your body uses to clean your blood. Mrs. 

Warburg, this boy is going to be here for at least ten days.” 

Sad and frightened, Mr. and Mrs. Warburg made their plans. Max’s mom 

would stay with him, and his dad would take Fred back to the shore to keep 

things as normal as possible for him. The news from the hospital wasn’t good. 

It looked as if Max had leukemia, a dangerous cancer in his bone marrow, but 

the doctors weren’t sure which kind of leukemia he had. Some kinds were less 

difficult to cure, and some were easier to bear than others. Hoping their son 

had the commonest kind that could be cured, the Warburgs started to learn 

about leukemia. 

The results of the blood tests came back. Max had a rare form of leukemia, 

found in one in a million children. The lab doctor told Max’s parents, “Now 

that we’ve seen these results, I wonder how Max ever got himself off the 

ground and back to the house the day he fell off his bike. He must be a very 

determined boy.” 

“Yes, he is,” Max’s father said. “He is going to need to be.” 

It was Dr. Susan Parsons who told Max what he had. “Leukemia is hard to 

beat. You’ll have to have chemotherapy and radiation stronger than one 

hundred thousand X-rays. In order to test your blood and feed you, we’re 

going to have to make an incision near your heart and insert a tube. You can’t 

play ball and you can’t play soccer or ride your bike. If your spleen gets hit 

again, it will kill you.” 

Max thought a bit. “Tell me what is going to happen.” 

“You have to have a bone marrow transplant. Do you know what that is, Max? 

That means taking the fluid out of the middle of all your bones and then 

putting in the fluid from someone else’s bones in its place. We can’t do it 

unless we can find the right donor -- someone whose bone and blood type 

match yours almost exactly. Often, not even members of your own family are 

a close enough match. Right now, there are about six thousand people out 

there looking for the one perfect match to save their lives. You’ll be joining 


XIX

them, Max. Your chance of finding a match is about one in twenty thousand.” 

Again, Max thought a minute. “So, there are six thousand others. Okay, I’ll be 

six thousand plus one. I’ll be one of the lucky ones.” 

“You already have been. Because you fell off your bike, we were able to catch 

your disease early, before there were other symptoms. If we get a donor fast, 

time will be on your side.” 

After ten days of testing, they let Max come home to the apartment in Boston. 

Every week, in order to adjust his medicine, he had to go to the hospital for 

blood tests, which meant a little needle, and for blood samples, which meant a 

big needle and a tube. Max hated needles. His mother knew he hated needles 

and wondered when she didn’t see him flinch each week as the nurse aimed 

the needle toward his arm. Even the nurse, who had seen so many different 

kinds of reactions to needles over the years, was surprised by Max’s calm. 

“What are you thinking about, young man?” she said to him on one of his 

visits to the blood lab, not really expecting a reply. 

Max answered very seriously, “First, I wait and prepare myself. Then I put all 

my energy where the needle is going to go, then I make fun of the needle.” On 

his own, Max had found a way to conquer a fear that, if he did not get the best 

of it, could make it harder for him to get well. 

No sports for at least six months, he’d been told, so he found a calendar, 

tacked it up, and drew a smiling face on the date six months away. Max had a 

goal. He knew he’d be sick for a while but he knew when it would be over. On 

the space for February 6, 1991, beside the smile he wrote, “Cured” and 

underlined it in red. 

In September, Max went back to school. When he told Nurse Hoolihan at the 

hospital that the kids didn’t seem to understand what was wrong with him, she 

said she’d come to his school and explain. The kids listened carefully to Nurse 

Hoolihan, but it was Max they wanted to hear from. 

“How did you catch leukemia?” asked someone, saying out loud the big 

question in everyone’s mind. 

“I didn’t just catch it,” Max said matter-of-factly. “First, I had to have inherited 

a particular gene and then I had to have what my doctor said was an accident 

in my blood cells. One cell went crazy. It started making the other cells produce 

too many white cells and platelets. My white cells are crowding out my red cells, 

and that’s not good for me. But, listen; no one can catch this from me.” 

You could see the kids were relieved. They stopped sitting so stiffly and acting 

so polite. Even Max’s teacher and the other grownups in the room seemed 

to relax a little. 

“What can we do for you?” Max’s best friend wanted to know. 

“Don’t treat me funny. I’m not supposed to bump my spleen but I’m the 

same old Max.” 

There were reminders at home, too, that his life had changed. Max had to 

choose whether to give up his kitten, Fantasy, or have her claws out so that she 

couldn’t scratch him and start an infection. Max couldn’t bring himself to hurt 

Fantasy that way, so he found her another home. He missed his kitten. “Be 

careful, Max. Be careful,” it seemed to him his mother kept saying. He missed 

hearing her say, “Off you go and have a good time,” without a worried look. 

The hospital did what it could to find a donor for Max so he could have the 

transplant that could save his life. His parents were tested and Fred was tested, 

but no perfect match was found. Close relatives were tested and then friends of 

the family, and still no match. Wait, the hospital told them, a match might be 

found in the new national marrow donor registry. 

His parents were troubled by waiting. The registry had too few matches and 

too many other people who were counting on the registry but hadn’t been 

helped. “We can help. We can learn how to do donor drives.” It was going to 

be hard, but they knew they had to try. What they didn’t realize at first was 

that Max would make the donor drive succeed. At first, only the family worked 

on the drives. Then they were joined by many of their friends, and soon, old 

friends were joined by the hundreds of new friends Max found through 

television and radio. 

Max’s campaign for a donor was called the “Max + 6,000.” Always, Max 

wanted people to remember that this wasn’t just for him. It was for Max and all 

the others in America who needed the one perfect donor. Many people didn’t 

really know what leukemia was all about or about bone marrow transplants, or 

how to help even if they wanted to help. One morning, figuring he had nothing 

to lose and plenty to gain, Max called a radio station to see if he could make his 

appeal on the air. He spoke on local radio shows. He was invited to talk on 

Channel 4 and then Channel 7 and then Channel 2. Smiling into the camera, 

Max would say, “Leukemia is a blood disease that starts in the marrow of 

bones. I need new bone marrow in order to get better. Come have a simple 

blood test and see if you can be my donor. Perhaps you will be my MUD, my 

matched unrelated donor.” 


XX 


XXI

Tom Bergeron, one talk show host, said to Max, “You’re good at this. You look 

as if you’re enjoying yourself.” 

“I am, sir. I wanted to be on TV and here I am. Maybe this is what I was 

getting ready for. Even if no donor turns up for me, I can help someone else.” 

For the people watching Max, it wasn’t pity that moved them; it was Max’s 

cheerful way of thinking of others before himself. The stations asked him back 

again and again. Hundreds and eventually thousands of people came to give 

a sample of their blood and promised to be a bone marrow donor if their type 

matched the type of anyone in need. 

The Boston Globe and The Boston Herald picked up Max’s story. “Max waits for 

his rescue,” said one headline. “Max leads charge against disease.” The 

reporters who met him liked Max and wanted to help him. Their stories 

reassured people and gave them practical information about when and how to 

become a bone marrow donor. 

At every donor meeting, there was Max wearing a “Max + 6,000” button and a 

red carnation. Red for blood, he said, and laughed when people asked how he 

could joke about something so serious. Max would shake each donor’s hand 

and say thank you. “You may not help me but you probably will help 

somebody,” he’d say. 

Every week, Max’s white cell count got higher. Every week, the need to find a 

donor got more acute. “It may be getting too late,” Dr. Parsons worried. “We 

have to find a donor soon.” 

Days slipped by. Weeks slipped by. Leaves on the trees outside Max’s window 

turned red and orange and then brown and fell away in the winds of early 

winter. Max, Fred, and their mom and dad talked about the little events of each 

day and about the distant future but not often about the immediate future. 

They talked about missing the rest of the summer at the shore and about Take 

It To The Max, the dreamboat. The boat came to mean so much. It meant 

another summer growing up. It meant having a future. By mid-October, nearly 

three months after Max’s leukemia was discovered, there still was no donor. 

“I’m going to order the 420 for Max,” his father said. “It will mean a lot to him 

knowing the boat is started.” He called the boat builder, who said yes, he could 

have the boat ready by spring. By the time Max was well; his 420 would be 

ready to put into the water. 

With no donor found, surgery went forward to improve Max’s chances later on, 

just in case a donor could be found. On November 15, Max’s spleen was 

removed. He recovered for a week in the hospital and for six days at home. 

Then, on November 28, the hospital called. The lab had found the miracle 

match among the last batch of samples. 

“Who is it?” Max asked. 

“We don’t know, but it’s a perfect match!” the nurse said. Later, during long 

December days in the hospital, Max and his dad sent the anonymous 

benefactor a picture of the intravenous bag that held the life-giving bone 

marrow with a letter that said, “This is all we know of you but we want to thank 

you!” Much later, Mr. and Mrs. Warburg learned that the donor was a doctor 

in Seattle, Washington, whose great-, great-, great-, great-grandfather all the 

way back to the 1800s in Europe was the same as Max’s. 

Now, with marrow from the donor, treatment could begin to pave the way for 

the transplant that might save Max. Chemotherapy would be the worst part. 

“Your hair is going to fall out, Max,” Dr. Parsons told him. Max could see that 

other kids in the cancer ward had little or no hair. “It’s part of getting better,” 

he told Fred. But he wasn’t sure he would be brave enough. He had seen others 

going for their treatment and returning exhausted and in tears. He was 

determined he wouldn’t let the treatment sink his spirits. 

First Max had a tube implanted in his chest, as the doctor told him would 

happen, for giving medicine, taking blood samples, and for feeding him because 

he wouldn’t be able to eat normally. He would have to be almost in isolation in 

a special environment called the Laminar Flow Room. In the sealed room, 

ducts brought a steady, moving stream of oxygen down and away from the bed, 

blowing foreign substances away from Max as his system tried to accept the 

strange marrow and begin making its own blood. 

Except for daily trips to the Total Body Irradiation room--the hospital 

people called it the TBI--Max had to stay in the isolated room and could 

see few visitors. When his mom and Fred visited each day and his dad came 

in the evening, they had to scrub like doctors and wear cover-up coats and 

hairnets. Even a touch could harm, so there could be no hugs to give comfort 

and love. Each morning the halls were cleared of contaminating strangers 

so Max, inside a tent, could be wheeled through the empty halls to the 

treatment room. 

Knowing he’d be lonely and expecting he’d be scared, Dr. Parsons had given 

Max a tape recorder so he could make a record of what was happening to him. 

Max told his tape recorder, “Going to TBI is really cool, like being in a space 

ship. The air coming in from the top of my oxygen tent is exhilarating. I feel 

like a great explorer from the next century gliding in on his chair.” 


XXII 


XXIII

The experience in the room wasn’t exhilarating. The drugs made Max sick. 

He had to stay on a metal table, head on blocks, neck stiff and body sore, for a 

long time. When finally he sat up, he threw up. The vomiting meant he was 

done for the day. On his tape Max said, “The table is real hard and it makes 

my head so stiff, but it’s fun because I can blast my music as loud as I want so it 

reminds me of home.” 

The first seven treatment days were chemotherapy and irradiation. The eighth 

day, the transplant itself, wasn’t at all what Max expected. Instead of an 

operation with doctors cutting him open, Max lay on his bed all alone while the 

new marrow flowed into his body from a transparent bag of clear fluid 

suspended over his head and connected to him by a clear slender tube. 

“How is that going to get into my bones?” he wondered while he watched, then 

later heard the doctors themselves marveling that the marrow sought its way to 

the right places once it was safely in his system. 

The blood count was critical. After the transplant, Max’s white cell count was 

zero. They wouldn’t let him out of the Laminar Flow Room until his count was 

3,000. One day after the transplant, his count was 20. The next day it was 100, 

then 150, then 300. Max had a long way to go, but he was making it. His body 

was rebuilding. Slowly the days passed. 

Max knew these days would be hard. The pains doctors had warned about 

became the pains he felt. Max didn’t complain. Instead, he tried to cheer up 

other patients stuck, as he was, in the hospital for Christmas. He got his parents 

to help. Max’s mom and dad brought in a whole Christmas dinner for all the 

kids and their families in the Jimmy Fund wing, the part of the hospital where 

Max and the other children with cancer were staying. Teddy Kennedy, Jr., who 

had cancer when he was thirteen and was now all grown up, brought presents 

for the kids, along with living proof that they could get better. 

Max yearned for breakout day, the day the doctors would let him go out of his 

room. Finally, early in the New Year, on January 2, Max woke to see balloons 

on the isolation room door and crepe-paper streamers overhead. The nurses, 

especially Nurse Rohan, his favorite, were celebrating for him. This was it; he 

was out! He went by wheelchair to the hospital door, then into the fresh air for 

the first time in 35 days, and then home. He loved the smell, he loved the look, 

and he loved the feel of home! Everyone in the hospital had been great to Max 

and he was grateful, but home was where he wanted to be. Back in his own 

room, Max saw again the calendar with the smile marking February 6. It was 

still almost a month away. “Not quite cured,” thought Max. “But maybe I’ll be 

better by then. February 6 will be a happy day.” 

But it wasn’t. Before long Max was back in the hospital with a high fever. Dr. 

Parsons sent him home again, uncertain what was wrong. Back he went again 

for ten days and again he came home no better. Still he had a fever and still he 

threw up. On February 6, he went back to the hospital again. The smile he was 

now famous for was still there, but it seemed to waver at the corners of his 

mouth. Max went back to his isolation room and this time he would have an 

oxygen mask, the sign of mortal struggle. 

Max’s mom and dad and Fred were at the hospital every day, staying with 

him until the evening when Max, heavy with drugs, fell asleep. The long 

days in the hospital were hard on Fred. He played with Max, but it wasn’t 

like the last time Max was in the hospital. One day, sick and exhausted after 

a treatment, Max was being pushed back to his room in the wheelchair. 

Fred had had it. Right on the edge of crying, he pulled hard on his mother’s 

arm, making it difficult for her to push Max’s chair. “Come on, Fred. Max 

needs you to help out,” she said. 

Max was used to being the helper himself. Knowing he was needed, he said, 

“I can cheer Fred up. Put him here in my lap.” 

Fred went into his older brother’s lap, glad to be riding the long corridor and 

glad to have Max acting like his old self. The two rolled along, Max’s head 

hidden and arms waving out from under Fred’s armpits, a four-armed, 

laughing pair all the way from Pulmonary to the Transplant floor. Hearing 

them, the nurses couldn’t tell that one of the laughing boys was perilously ill 

until, rounding the corner, they recognized Max and his family. 

“That’s like Max,” they told his mother. “At night on the transplant floor, the 

younger kids cry. They’re in pain and they miss their families. I hear Max call 

to them, ‘Don’t cry. I’m here. You’ve got a friend!’ You have an unusually 

brave son, Mrs. Warburg.” 

“I’m not sure he realizes,” his mother said. “He says to me, ‘Mommy, do you 

think I’m brave?’ I don’t know why he doubts.” 

“How does he keep his laughter? How can he keep on smiling?” 

“That’s Max,” said his mom. “That’s the way Max is.” 

On March first Dr. Parsons told Max his life was threatened. The blood 

transfusions and medicines pumped into him weren’t working well enough. 

The doctors’ skills and the hospitals’ resources and Max’s own incredible will 

were losing against the disease. Max saw the solemn faces around him. His 

body swollen in places, emaciated in places, spotted with sores in places, Max 

looked Dr. Parsons straight in the eyes and said, “Well, okay, so what’s the plan? 


XXIV 


XXV

How are you going to get me well?” They looked at Max in disbelief, to see his 

conviction so strong despite his ordeal, and took heart themselves. 

“Come here to the window, Max, come look,” said his father. 

There in the hospital driveway below, high on a truck and with mainsail 

flying, was Take It To The Max. Max’s eyes widened in pleasure, his delight 

was evident in every gesture of his excitement. He glowed, knowing the 

care and love that brought his boat to him at this place at this time. 

Nurses and doctors all came to exclaim about Max’s treasure and enjoy 

his infectious happiness. 

That night, Max stayed up until close to midnight working on a project with 

his dad. When he was ready to put out the light, Max and his mom and dad 

prayed together and thanked God for all the help He had given and all the 

people who had been so kind to him. Then Max went to sleep. 

Max died in his mother’s arms, holding his father’s hand, at 6:55 a.m. 

on March 5, 1991. 

In the days that followed there was a terrible silence. The silence swelled 

and roared, because silences can do that if what you want to hear isn’t there 

and what you don’t want to hear is everywhere. Then stories started to fill 

the empty spaces, stories about Max. 

Many stories ended with a shake of the head, a glance away, and the simple 

statement, “Max amazed me then. He was so brave. Children amaze me. 

I am amazed by the courage of children.” 

Even as the end of Max’s life became an increasing threat to him, Max’s 

courage had grown well beyond that expected of an eleven-year-old student. 

He was an extraordinarily engaging, enthusiastic participant, reaching out 

to support others in need of encouragement. In his honor, his mother and 

father decided to create a program for children to discover the virtue of 

courage and the value it could have in their lives. 


XXVI 


XXVII

NATIONAL PROGRAM 



XXVIII 1

COURAGE IN MY LIFE 

The mission of The Max Warburg Courage Curriculum, Inc. is to strengthen the literacy 

and social-emotional skills of participating students. Our nonprofit program, provided free 

of charge, invites educators and students to explore the idea of courage in literature, their 

own lives, and within the broader community. 

The Max Warburg Courage Curriculum is an English Language Arts 

curriculum founded to honor the life of Max Warburg, a courageous sixth 

grader whose steadfast determination and heartfelt hope in the face of his 

battle with leukemia continue to inspire our work. 

This year, we worked remotely with our teachers to bring our curriculum to 

thousands of students at schools in the United States and worldwide. 

Additionally, students in Greater Boston afterschool and summer programs 

participated in the second year of a pilot curriculum developed for out-of-school 

settings. The MAXCourage program is growing on a local, national, and 

global scale, and Max Warburg’s legacy continues to inspire young people to 

recognize and celebrate the courage in their lives. 

Since the program’s inception in 1991, the Courage Curriculum has positively 

impacted the academic performance and increased the essential knowledge of 

over 250,000 middle school students in Boston Public Schools, as well as other 

schools in Boston, throughout Massachusetts, and across the country and 

world. By connecting with Max’s story and other stories featuring courageous 

young people, students come to recognize and celebrate the role that courage 

plays in their own lives. Our work with talented teachers allows us to empower 

young people to continue to act courageously, to the benefit of their classmates, 

their families, their communities, and themselves. 

The Max Warburg Courage Curriculum works to improve the reading, writing, 

critical thinking, and social-emotional skills of students. We inspire participants 

to celebrate acts of courage in their own lives and the lives of others. We 

support teachers in the use of the Courage Curriculum to help their students 

discover their voices as writers, and reflect upon and share about their identities 

and lived experiences. The success of the program is evidenced by the resulting 

quality of students’ writing and their individual pride in their work. 

Although it is intensely focused on classroom practice and teacher instruction, 

The Max Warburg Courage Curriculum also disseminates this work on its 

website, in this annual publication of essays, and at an annual awards luncheon 

for Max Warburg Fellows. The luncheon draws students and their families and 

teachers together for a culminating event to celebrate the outcomes of the 

program and the students’ efforts. The Max Warburg Courage Curriculum 

has been featured in academic journals and other publications, positioning the 

program as a national model for excellent school and community partnerships. 



2 3

EDWIN QUEZADA PEGUERO 

DAN CESARIO, TEACHER 

Joseph P. Tynan Elementary School, Boston, MA 

My brother was upset again. He wanted to go outside. I asked my mom, 

“Ma, ¿puedo llevar a Liam a caminar?” (Ma, can I take Liam for a walk?) 

She nodded, and I opened the door and took Liam for a walk down the 

street. After a few minutes, he started to calm down, so I brought him back 

inside. On another day, my brother was upset, throwing a fit, and screaming, 

and he knocked over a vase, breaking part of it. I wasn’t mad at him. I 

simply grabbed his tablet, gave it to him, and started playing a game with 

him to calm him down. 

“COURAGE MEANS 

BEING PATIENT 

AND BEING THERE 

DURING THE UPS AND 

DOWNS THAT PEOPLE 

GO THROUGH.” 

This is all part of my everyday life with my four-year-old brother. As an older 

brother, I am always afraid of my younger brother being hurt by someone else. 

I never want him to be hurt by someone else, especially since he has autism. 

Having a brother with autism is stressful and a lot of work. 

I have to make sure he eats and drinks his formula to get the nutrients he needs, 

and I even have to give him medicine. You never know when he could get upset 

and throw a fit. Sometimes, I help my mom cook. When Liam is hungry, she 

usually makes fries for him, or tostónes, which are flattened fried plantains. They 

are very common in the Dominican Republic, and Liam loves them. He enjoys 

them so much that sometimes he eats mine! I don’t get mad. I simply let him eat 

if he’s still hungry. It’s fine. When he makes a mess, I try to clean it up. He 

doesn’t know how to clean up, but he tries when he can. He picks up his blocks 

and puts them back into the box. Whenever he’s upset, I try to make him laugh 

by tickling him. I try to do anything I can to make him happy. 

Some people may find it embarrassing to have a brother with autism. Liam 

sometimes misbehaves and isn’t easy to deal with, but I honestly love my 

brother. I remind myself to not get angry with him, because he can’t help the 

things he does. Being mad and angry isn’t good for his mental health, and it 

isn’t good for mine. Courage means being patient and being there during the 

ups and downs that people go through. It may not be easy all the time, but I 

have courage and don’t give up on him. I thank God for giving me a brother 

like Liam. He has made me happier ever since he was born. 



4 5

MONICA NASCIMENTO 

STEFANIE LYN MACHADO, TEACHER 


The social groups we identify with end up shaping the person we become, so 

what happens when someone doesn’t fit into just one category? People from 

multiple cultures and ethnic backgrounds are faced with this dilemma on a 

daily basis. They are left to question which aspects of themselves truly reflect 

who they are. Who you talk to, what clothes you wear, what language you 

use—all are choices that a multicultural student has to make, and all are choices 

that require courage, for when someone does not belong to any one specific 

group, it is their job to find community. 

I was born in Worcester, Massachusetts. My mother was born in Iraq and my 

father in Brazil. From the very beginning, my life was divided into three. At 

home, I speak Arabic with my mother and sister. My mother speaks with the 

fluency of someone who originated from the Middle East, confident and 

self-assured. My sister, with all the years she has had to practice, is almost as 

good. I stand out. I mix my English with my Arabic until my sentences are not 

understandable to anyone outside of my immediate family. Neither fully 

American, nor perfectly Middle Eastern. At school, I speak fluent English. 

Most of my classmates don’t even know I am bilingual—not that there are 

many Arabic-speaking students at my school, and even if there were, I’m not 

sure they would understand me. 

“I SHOWED COURAGE 

BY OVERCOMING 

MY ANXIETIES AND 

EMBRACING MY 

CULTURES.” 

To be courageous means to have the power to face a challenge, to have the 

strength to move on, and to be yourself. I showed courage by overcoming my 

anxieties and embracing my cultures. When you’re overwhelmed with the fear 

of being different, you forget that the strongest thing you can do is to be 

yourself. So, when asked the question, “What happens when someone doesn’t 

fit into just one category?” the best piece of advice that I can offer is to be 

courageous, to create for yourself a sense of belonging, and to find the strength 

to exist as yourself with no apologies. 

You don’t look Arab: a statement I’ve thought a thousand times before. No one’s 

ever said this aloud to me, but I’ve lived with the nagging fear that someone 

might, so usually I don’t mention that part of myself. It sometimes feels like 

a betrayal—to my mom, my sister, our family. Like they might think I’m 

ashamed of them. I don’t usually tell people I’m Brazilian, either, but that part 

of my identity isn’t as close to me. My father isn’t involved with my life, so 

everything in relation to him feels disconnected. Another part of me that I 

couldn’t fully understand or embody. All these negative thoughts existed in 

my mind for a long time, but eventually, I started to understand what it meant 

to be courageous. 



6 7

ESMÉ FIELDS 

AMY ROJEK, TEACHER 


Courage in My Life National Essay Contest Winner 

Over what was supposed to be an uneventful winter break, I got alopecia 

areata, which later progressed to alopecia universalis. In other words, I was 

about to go back to school almost completely bald. Over the course of three 

months, I lost most of the hair on my head, and about two to three months 

later, all the hair on my body. 

I could have worn a wig, but they’re itchy, and I was afraid that sooner or later, 

it would come off, making the whole ordeal a lot more painful. 

The night before returning to school, I was not very anxious, interestingly. 

The next day I got up and got ready. I got in the car and drove to school 

like a normal day. 

As we neared school, I started to think about the possible reactions of my 

classmates. I knew they would probably feel sorry for me, but I didn’t think 

they should. 

“COURAGE IS GETTING 

UP EVERY DAY AND 

CHOOSING TO DO 

IT THE HARD WAY, 

BECAUSE IT’S THE ONLY 

WAY THAT ALLOWS YOU 

TO BE YOURSELF.” 

Later, a couple people asked in the respectful way you would expect your 

teacher to ask you. I answered and went on with my day. 

In the days that followed, my class got used to my new look, and school no 

longer had the possibility of being a pit of doom. I will always be immensely 

grateful to my class for the way they reacted. 

Courage is getting up every day and choosing to do it the hard way, because 

it’s the only way that allows you to be yourself. Alopecia is an everyday 

struggle where courage is exhibited in different ways. That is my way. 

We stopped in front of the school, and I got out with no one around me. Or at 

least, I didn’t see anyone. I walked into the building and down the stairs. I was 

about a hundred feet away from the double doors that opened into the entire 

school’s worth of students. My stomach felt like it was pulling itself apart from 

the inside. As I moved to right outside the doors, I debated putting my hood on. 

But I couldn’t bring myself to hide my head, only to have to reveal it. So I kept 

walking into what seemed like a pit of doom. 

Except it wasn’t. No reactions. I saw eyes on me, but not in a judgy way. Just 

as if I had walked in on a normal day. I took my regular seat in the middle of 

the back row. Nothing. No whispers. I didn’t know what was happening. The 

principal called for us to stand for the pledge. As we recited the words, my 

stomach flip-flopped, then settled, except for a little twist. When we were 

dismissed to our homerooms, no one asked. First period, again, I was treated 

like always. 



8 9

ISAMEL MEJIA 

HELEN SULLIVAN, TEACHER 


I’m sad because I left my mom in the Dominican Republic last year. 

Before arriving in this country, I talked to my best friend every day about my 

trip to Boston. I told him many times that I didn’t want to go to Boston. 

Sometimes, I understood that I had to go to Boston because my permit for 

residence was going to expire. I felt so sad to leave my mom that I wanted to 

cry. My friend convinced me when he said to me, “You must go for your 

benefit. Your mom and your dad only want the best for you.” After that 

conversation, I decided to go to Boston and see for myself whether or not it 

was convenient for me to stay there. 

“I REALLY DON’T 

KNOW HOW I GOT THE 

COURAGE TO LEAVE 

MY FAMILY, ESPECIALLY 

MY MOM, TO COME TO 

THE UNITED STATES.” 

I realized that I would be living in a new country, learning a new language, and 

meeting other friends in a new school. It was a lot for me. I felt overwhelmed! 

I wanted to cry, scream, and go back to my family. 

I had to go to school. My stepbrother took me to the Hurley School. We talked 

to Ms. Denise Flores, and she introduced me to Ms. Sullivan’s class and Dr. G’s 

class. I was scared! When we went to Dr. G’s class, I saw the girls I met during 

summer camp. That made me feel better. I was not that scared anymore. Those 

girls introduced me to other girls and boys. I enjoyed their company very much, 

and I still enjoy their company now. 

After a while, I started to make friends in the new school, and I felt much better 

around students my age. They made me laugh. Calling my mom every day 

made me feel better, knowing that she was okay and happy for me. 

I really don’t know how I got the courage to leave my family, especially my 

mom, to come to the United States. My mom and dad were always telling me, 

“Nosotros solo queremos lo mejor para ti” (We only want the best for you). 

I understood that. If I wanted to better myself, I had to listen to them. It was 

really hard for me to make that decision. I did it! I called my mom every single 

day. It got easier with my friends in school. I felt very proud of myself. 

I still miss all my family that stayed in Santo Domingo. Sometimes I want to 

leave Boston because I feel like this is not my place, but then I remember that 

my dad and mom and my whole family only want the best for me. 



10 11

KARIS YU 

EMILY WU, TEACHER 


“?” (Can our teacher speak Chinese?) I asked 

my friend Sarah. 

She responded, “!” (Our teacher can speak 

Chinese!) 

I was waiting outside at the Josiah Quincy Elementary School with Sarah. 

The last time I had seen her was our last vacation. I was kind of nervous 

going to this school because I didn’t know if anybody else spoke the same 

language as me. I told Sarah, “” (Our teacher 

cannot speak Chinese). 

She responded, “” (Our second teacher 

can speak Chinese). Then I was less nervous, since I knew that there was a 

teacher who could speak Chinese. I walked into the classroom, then I saw the 

second teacher, and he told me what to do in Cantonese. 

“I FELT MORE 

CONFIDENT SPEAKING 

IN ENGLISH. NOW, 

I CAN HELP AND 

TRANSLATE FOR PEOPLE 

WHO DON’T KNOW A 

LOT OF ENGLISH.” 

I was happy that I didn’t really need my friend to keep translating the easy 

words. I felt more confident speaking in English. Now, I can help and 

translate for people who don’t know a lot of English. Courage means learning 

and doing something that is difficult. Then you can help others, so they won’t 

struggle and feel bad. 

When the main teacher came and asked me what my name was, I turned and 

looked at Sarah. She told me, “, ?” (She said, what is 

your name?) 

I tried saying, “My name is Karis.” My English was not good, and it was very 

hard to understand. I felt very nervous to speak English for the first time. 

I thought that my English would always stay the same, since I only speak 

Chinese at home. I had learned a little bit of English from my parents, like 

the most important words. I told myself I had to learn English because a lot 

of my classmates didn’t speak Chinese. My friends motivated me to learn 

English so that I could speak with other people who couldn’t speak Chinese. 

My mind felt like a turtle slowing down, trying to respond to other people 

when they were talking to me. I felt like I was in the dark. I didn’t really know 

what I was saying. It didn’t stop me from learning English. At home, I tried 

practicing English with my parents. By the end of the school year, I had 

learned a lot of English. In fourth grade, I was happy that I didn’t need to 

go to ESL. 



12 13

LOUISA FIX 

JEANINE STANSFIELD, TEACHER 


What is courage? Courage can have many meanings to every person in the 

world. My definition of courage is the strength to push through when things are 

difficult and to beat all obstacles that stand in your way. My name is Louisa, 

I am eleven years old, and this is my story of courage. 

When I was in the fifth grade, I thought about harming myself. The main way 

I showed courage was saying that I needed help. After talking to my parents, I 

started going to a therapist. Going to a therapist has never been easy, especially 

because therapists are people you don’t know, and that can be scary. Another 

way that I show courage is by getting through each session and coming out 

braver and stronger about my mental health than ever before. 

“ANOTHER WAY THAT 

I SHOW COURAGE IS 

BY GETTING THROUGH 

EACH SESSION AND 

COMING OUT BRAVER 

AND STRONGER ABOUT 

MY MENTAL HEALTH 

THAN EVER BEFORE.” 

I am now feeling better, but I am still going to a therapist every other week to 

continue to improve my mental health. I am much less self-conscious and am 

so much better and happier now. 

When talking to my therapist, I have to tell her specific details from the 

previous week or weeks. It is difficult because sometimes I don’t know how 

to say what I need to say. I have benefited from seeing a therapist to help me 

manage my emotions, which helps me protect myself from the anger inside 

of me. Therapy has helped me overcome my emotions and control the 

emotions that I feel. 

Even though it is difficult to talk about these times, it can help your mental 

health, and it also helps with your physical and social health. For social health, 

if you are less self-conscious about your mental health, it might be easier to 

make friends because you aren’t afraid of being made fun of. Similarly, if you 

are not nervous about your mental health, you might be able to exercise, get out 

of your house more, and be more confident in yourself. 

Even though therapy takes up my time, and I thought it was a waste of time at 

first, I realized that it was not. It is important, and it is much-needed time for 

me. Going to therapy has made me realize that the strategies I am given to help 

control my emotions help me not want to harm myself. I have realized these 

strategies also help me control sudden outbursts. 

If you ever experience the circumstances I went through, even though it might 

be complicated, I recommend that you go to a few therapy sessions. This helped 

me through tough times; you could help yourself so much, and you could save 

yourself from self-harm. 



14 15

PAMELA DE LA ROSA 

TED DOOLIN, TEACHER 


If you asked someone, “What do you think courage means?” or “What does it 

mean to be courageous?” they would probably say it means doing something 

that may scare or terrify you. What courage means to me is to have strength in 

any situation, whether it’s upsetting, scary, or disturbing, even if you don’t want 

to face it. You are courageous when, even if you’re grieving, hurting, and scared 

of what might happen next, you’ll still do it. That is what courage means to me. 

Many people are courageous. For example, Martin Luther King Jr. and Rosa 

Parks showed courage. They both stood up for what they believed in, which was 

justice. They both made a change during the discriminatory time they lived in. 

They are both remembered to this day. 

Last year, I experienced something I never had before. On September 15, 2023, 

I got pulled from class. My mom was there to pick me up, though I didn’t have 

an appointment that day. She told me not to worry, and that I had an 

appointment she forgot to tell me about. Mom had an odd look on her face. 

She looked like there was something she wasn’t telling me, as if she were 

worried. I brushed it off. When we arrived at my therapist, I was still confused. 

My mom walked in with me. We sat down. Then that’s when they told me. 

Mom had gotten a call from the hospital that day, and they said that my dad 

was dead. I did not believe them at first. There was no way, right? He was in a 

brutal car accident in late July. He was in and out of the hospital, until he 

stayed. My dad fought and fought until the day he died. I was devastated. After 

they told me, I was quiet. Quieter than I had ever been before. That was all I 

wanted to hear—the silence. 

“I DIDN’T TELL ANYONE 

HOW I FELT—UNTIL 

TODAY. WRITING 

THIS DOESN’T MAKE 

ME FEEL THE BEST, 

BUT IT DOES LET ME 

GET SOME THINGS 

OFF OF MY CHEST. ” 

Coping has been a struggle for me. But it’s nice to know that there are people 

who are by my side, and that there are people in the world who have been 

through what I’ve been through. It’s nice to know that I’m not alone, and other 

people should know that, too. So, in my opinion, being courageous or showing 

courage is something that everyone should and can do. Courage means to have 

strength, no matter the situation, even when you’re really scared or hurting 

inside. I am pretty familiar with showing courage. 

I went home, and I stayed in my room and didn’t want to leave. It was my safe 

place. At that moment, I began thinking and thinking about how different my 

life was about to become. How was I supposed to live without him? How was I 

supposed to cope with this news? How was the rest of my family coping with it? 

Since that day, I haven’t felt the same. I started being angrier, but not at myself, 

at the world. I yelled more often, mostly at my mom, even though I shouldn’t 

have. My mom is the person I trust the most, but in those moments, I didn’t 

trust her. I also felt like the world was out to get me, or like every bad thing in 

life was because of me. I didn’t tell anyone how I felt—until today. Writing this 

doesn’t make me feel the best, but it does let me get some things off of my chest. 



16 17

LANAYIA BROWN 

TAENARI PHILLIPS-THOMPSON, TEACHER 

Menino YMCA Afterschool, Boston, MA 

The time I experienced courage in my life was in fifth grade, when I was 

influenced by my friends to be bad every day. It took courage to change 

my actions. 

The things I wanted to do last year were hit teachers, cuss, and be a bully. 

I got suspended for three days for trying to be a hard kid. I loved and lived 

for the drama. I used to hit teachers because it gave me a rush, a certain 

type of feeling that I wanted more and more. 

“IT TOOK COURAGE TO 

CHANGE MY ACTIONS.” 

Until finally, I noticed why I shouldn’t hit teachers. You don’t know what 

they go through in their everyday lives. You don’t know which day could be 

a bad day. Like someone said to me before, “It’s not what I say that defines 

me, but what I do.” 



18 19

WILEINY ROMERO LARA 

HELEN SULLIVAN, TEACHER 


Courage means knowing when to ask for help, even when it’s hard. I need help 

with focusing at school and in all of my classes. I feel bad every time I realize 

that I’m off task. I’ve always been a slow learner, and for me, it’s embarrassing. 

I’ll be in class with the other students while working, and I’ll always look 

around to see if I’m the only one who is struggling or the only one who is 

confused. When I realize I’m the only one, I feel terrible. 

I remember when I was in math stations and one of my classmates asked, 

“You don’t even know your multiplication facts yet?” 

I didn’t know how to answer that question, so I just laughed it off. I don’t care 

about what other people think about me or say about me, but when it comes 

to my education, I’ll have tears running down my face. It’s like I want to get 

better at everything, but no matter how much I keep trying, it gets harder for 

me to get better. 

I’m different. 

I learn differently. 

I wish I learned like the others. I want to be like everyone who gets good grades. 

In class, I’ll always be in a complete zone, thinking about other stuff and not 

focusing on what I am supposed to be working on. And it’s like I’m somewhere 

else, far, far away. Every time I am in a zone, my teacher calls my name. That’s 

honestly very helpful because I never realize if I’m in a zone or not, but I do feel 

bad when they call on me, because I should realize. 

I’ve always been this person. 

I don’t think my parents will ever understand that side or part of me. I wonder 

how other people’s parents react when their kids show them their grades. While 

everyone’s going higher and higher no matter what, I’m left behind. Something 

helpful for me is working in small groups. I have an IEP, or an individualized 

education program. I’ve had an IEP since first grade. Working in small groups 

is helpful for me because other people explain it well, and they can find easier 

strategies for me. They also find ways to make me understand better. 

“I’M SHOWING 

COURAGE EVERY DAY 

BY COMING TO SCHOOL 

AND SHOWING UP, 

EVEN THOUGH I’M 

NOT IN THE MOOD 

TO SHOW UP.” 

I wish somebody would understand me. I wish a teacher understood why I’m 

like this. I hope the teachers don’t think I’m doing this on purpose. I do want 

to get better at everything. Honestly. 

This gives me a chance to express my feelings. 

I’ve never liked school. It isn’t just the usual “I hate school” reasoning, because 

of homework, or waking up early, or the long days. It’s the constant feeling of 

being overwhelmed. I’m not just a shy kid. My entire body is filled with anxiety 

all the time. 

I never really raise my hand in class. I’ll sit there, not knowing what to do, but 

I will never ask for help much. Why? I don’t even know myself. I can never 

speak up. I have a hard time just asking if I can use the restroom or even go 

to the nurse. The simplest, smallest things feel impossible for me to do. I’ve 

always wished that I could raise my hand and answer the teacher, even if I’m 

not 100 percent sure it’s correct. 

I know I shouldn’t let my thoughts win. I can’t be scared of school. 

I’m always overthinking about my grades, like, What if I get an F? What if I fail 

this test? When I get my grade, I feel bad, because I put so much effort into it, 

but it’ll be a 60 percent or lower. 

I’m showing courage every day by coming to school and showing up, even 

though I’m not in the mood to show up. I also show courage by not giving up, 

knowing that I have been wanting to. 

I’m so proud of myself. 



20 21

EIDAN GONZALEZ 

AARON COHEN, TEACHER 


In 2017, something really bad happened. I almost drowned. I was really 

scared because it happened during the day. My family and I went to spend 

time in the Dominican Republic, and I was really happy that I was going to 

the river. We were having a picnic, and when it was time to go in the water, 

I was hesitant. We were at a river that seemed as big as the Blackstone School 

in the South End. 

I was anxious, but I really wanted to learn how to swim. When I got in the 

water, I slowly began to sink down. When I started sinking, I was making the 

water splash. I was really scared. My family was hysterically looking for me 

everywhere. My family was running around in panic. My dad went into the 

water looking for me. 

“I WAS ANXIOUS, BUT 

I REALLY WANTED TO 

LEARN HOW TO SWIM.” 

My siblings were running around screaming my name, looking for me 

everywhere. But then I saw a shadow. I slowly saw that shadow coming to me. 

The shadow jumped in the water and took me to the ground. I slowly opened 

my eyes, and it was my dad. I was really happy that he found me. When my 

dad took me out of the water, my heart was pumping very fast. 

That was the day I almost drowned. I was panicking. 

Even though I didn’t know how to swim back then, now I do. But it wasn’t easy. 

First, I had to stop being scared. One day I told my dad, “Can we go to the 

pool so you can teach me how to swim?” 

“I will take you to the pool, but you have to stop being so scared,” my dad said. 

When you’re in a pool or a river, get your dad or mom in case something 

happens to you. 



22 23

TALIA GUITY DOUGLIN 

MICHAELA BROTMAN, TEACHER 

Mother Caroline Academy, Boston, MA 

The time I had to show courage was when I had to take my exam school test 

for the first time so that I could qualify for a good school. This moment is 

memorable to me because I can look back and tell myself that it wasn’t bad at 

all! I went to Boston Latin Academy to take the exam school test. I felt so 

nervous and scared that I was going to fail and I wouldn’t get accepted at all. 

I was also overly excited that I was going to be with my cousin Amelia—that 

was, until we were separated into different groups. My heart sank. Now, I was 

more nervous than ever. I was feeling dizzy and felt like going home. I went into 

the auditorium and went into my group. I was in group green. I could feel all 

eyes on me as I walked to where my group was. I felt like everyone was very 

hostile towards me except the teachers who were in each group, so I just 

brushed it off and lined up to go upstairs so I could finally take my test. 

In my mind, I thought I would just do my test and be able to go home, but no... 

I was wrong. After lunch, we had another test! At lunch, I got to see my cousin, 

but like I said, we were in different groups, so we couldn’t sit with each other. 

At this point, I wanted to go home and go back to sleep because I woke up 

really early to go there. After lunch, I took the math test, which was really 

boring. I started dozing off, but I knew I couldn’t fall asleep and needed to 

finish my test. The test was really hard to do because I hadn’t learned half of 

the questions on it in school yet. It was so quiet in the class. No one made a 

peep. My eyes started feeling heavy and slowly began closing because when it 

gets too quiet, I start to fall asleep. I then reminded myself how important the 

test was, and I became super determined to get this test done and go home. I 

finally finished my math test. I did really well, and I was super proud of myself. 

“REMEMBER TO ALWAYS 

HAVE CONFIDENCE IN 

YOURSELF, EVEN WHEN 

YOU FEEL NERVOUS, 

AND WHEN YOU THINK 

SOMETHING IS HARD, 

PUSH THROUGH 

IT AND MAKE 

YOURSELF PROUD.” 

This essay is a message to show you to always have courage, even if you feel 

nervous, because if you have confidence in yourself and make the most of it, 

everything will turn out well. I understand if you feel nervous because you don’t 

know the people somewhere, and you might think they’re judging you. 

However, they are probably just observing you. You don’t always have to feel 

scared, because what people think about you shouldn’t affect your mood or the 

way you think about yourself. Remember to always have confidence in yourself, 

even when you feel nervous, and when you think something is hard, push 

through it and make yourself proud. 

I was then sent downstairs so I could call my mom and go home. I was glad I 

finished and started my official summer, until my mom told me I had another 

test in December. UGH, BUMMER! However, when I later had to go back to 

take that test, it was a breeze. I was able to focus more, and I got good results 

back. I learned to not always be nervous and to have faith in my abilities. Also, 

I’m really proud of myself for getting positive results back, which means I could 

get into an exam school. 



24 25

ANDREW CAIAZZO 

MERRILL HAWKINS, TEACHER 


When you think of courage, you may think of saving someone from a fire, 

fighting a bear, or jumping into an ocean to save a drowning kid. These all 

show courage, but in my case, courage was a little less life threatening. 

I was in my first-grade classroom at a public school. In my class, there were 

three book levels: green, red, and white, green being the easiest and white 

being the hardest. Everyone started by reading the green-level books, but as 

my classmates became stronger readers, they started to read red- and even 

white-level books. Despite my love for reading, I was never able to advance 

from the green books. Because of this, I was put into a special reading group 

to try to help my reading. This may have worked a little, but my reading skills 

were still lacking, even after the school determined I didn’t need the group 

anymore. As my second-grade year came to an end, my family started 

thinking about moving to an independent school with smaller class sizes. 

As soon as I was accepted into an independent school, I started going to 

academic support. At first, I felt awkward being pulled out of class for one-onone 

tutoring sessions. But as I began to like my tutor and noticed other people 

also leaving for academic support, it became easier to leave class each day. 

Academic support helped, but third grade was still a challenging year. I went 

to get a neuropsychological assessment to learn more about my brain. Two 

weeks after the test, my results came back, and it was confirmed that I had 

dyslexia. Dyslexia is a learning difference that makes some letters look jumbled 

up or deformed for me. Dyslexia makes it hard for me to read as fast or well 

as some of my peers. 

My neuropsychologist recommended Orton-Gillingham tutoring, which my 

tutor, Ms. Austin, was already trained in. With these special teaching strategies 

for dyslexic kids, I began to read bigger, harder books. But as my brain 

developed more, it became clear that I also had ADD. ADD, or attention deficit 

disorder, makes it hard for me to focus for long periods of time. I started taking 

medication in January of my fifth-grade year. My medication helps me stay 

focused for longer periods of time during schoolwork or homework. Now that 

I’ve been taking medication for about a year, I am a much stronger reader 

“I SHOWED A LOT OF 

COURAGE WORKING 

THROUGH MY 

DYSLEXIA AND ADD. 

BUT I AM ALSO 

BEING COURAGEOUS 

BY SHARING MY 

STORY WITH YOU.” 

because I can focus on one book for much longer. Medication didn’t fix it all, 

though; late at night, when my medication wears off, I have a lot of trouble 

focusing, and I have a short temper. 

Courage is a lot of things, but for me, courage is not giving up even when you 

feel like you’re not good enough. Courage is the ability to stick with it and wait 

for things to get easier. Even if they don’t get easier, you should always stick 

with your passion. Giving up never gets you anywhere. For me, life did get 

easier. It took a while, but now I love reading, even if I can’t read as fast as most 

people. I will never regret showing courage. 

There were lots of times I really wanted to give up reading. If I hadn’t stuck 

with it, tried my best at tutoring, or worked with the adults in my life to help 

me learn and grow, I wouldn’t be as strong a reader or writer. I showed a lot of 

courage working through my dyslexia and ADD. But I am also being 

courageous by sharing my story with you. It wasn’t easy writing this essay. It 

was always emotional remembering the feeling of getting pulled out of class or 

hiding my book because it was the smallest book anyone was reading. Courage 

is the key to growing. I hope that by having the courage to share my story, 

I will help you have the courage to share yours. 



26 27

ELISHA PIERRESAINT 

KAITLYN CURRY, TEACHER 


It all started in Abington, Massachusetts. I had just moved there and was pretty 

nervous and quiet around that time. I already had a couple of friends at school, 

although I didn’t know what the other kids would think of me. My mother said 

she was making one of my favorite cultural foods, Sos Pwa. It’s kind of a mix 

between sauce and beans and tastes scrumptious with white rice. I got 

extremely excited and couldn’t wait until she was finished with it. I should also 

probably say that the town that I live in basically has very little diversity, so 

people weren’t used to things people of different races did, liked, or even ate. 

The next morning, I woke up, realizing I fell asleep waiting for the Sos Pwa. At 

that moment, I jumped off the couch and sprinted to the kitchen. I lifted the lid 

off the pot that was on the stove and lit up with joy. There it was, the Sos Pwa 

I had been waiting for. Since it was a school day, I couldn’t eat the Sos Pwa due 

to me having to get ready, so I grabbed my towel and hopped in the shower. 

I was planning on eating the Sos Pwa before I went to school, but I only had 

five minutes before the bus came. A thought came to my head and said, Why 

don’t I just bring it to school? And that’s what I did. I grabbed a bowl, put some 

white rice in, then poured the Sos Pwa on top. I couldn’t wait to dive into this 

food. So I put the bowl into the lunch box and ran outside for the bus. 

Fast forward to lunch, and everybody pulled out their lunch. One kid had 

pizza, another kid had a PB&J, someone even had a cheeseburger. I pulled out 

my lunch, not aware of what was about to happen next. 

The kid sitting across from me said, “Ew, what’s that smell?” 

The girl next to him said, “Smells like fart beans!” I looked around to see 

everybody looking at my food, and then at me. 

Finally, the school bell rang, and I got to go home. I saw my mom in the 

kitchen making dinner while saying, “I made your favorite, bannann peze!” 

“I REALIZED THAT I 

SHOULDN’T BE AFRAID 

TO EAT WHAT I LIKE. 

SO THE NEXT DAY, 

I WENT TO SCHOOL 

WITH MY FAVORITE 

HAITIAN PLATE, 

AND I ATE WELL.” 

and smiled, but deep inside, I knew she was right. No matter where I go, people 

are going to judge, so just let them. 

I went to school the next day and sat by myself at an empty table, when I heard 

commotion next to me. “Ew, Jalek, what is that smell?!” 

Jalek lifted off the lid on his food and said, “It’s fish and kimchi! My mom made 

it for me!” 

Another kid responded with, “Well, it might have gone bad, because it doesn’t 

smell right.” 

Everyone at his table laughed, but he quickly came up with, “It’s better than 

the school lunch. I’d rather eat what I’m used to than to hide it and eat the 

school lunch.” After he said that, I felt a spark in my chest. I realized that I 

shouldn’t be afraid to eat what I like. So the next day, I went to school with my 

favorite Haitian plate, and I ate well. This time, without any problems. 

Now, this was a meaningful time in my life because if this event had never 

happened, I’d probably still be ashamed to eat my culture’s foods, and maybe 

even end up hating them. I grew by not really making a big deal out of things 

anymore. I don’t care what anybody says to me about something I like. And 

I thank God every day for that moment. 

I answered back with, “Mom, why can’t we have normal food?” 

She noticed something was wrong. “What are you talking about? All foods are 

the same, they’re just prepared differently,” she said. I told her what happened 

at school, and she frowned. “Those kids don’t know what they’re talking about. 

People are always going to find a way to judge. It’s human nature!” I laughed 



28 29

DANIELA SANCHES DE OLIVEIRA 

MARY WALL, TEACHER 


I will never forget the day I traveled from Brazil to the United States. Leaving 

Brazil was very sad! The United States was the most beautiful place, and I had 

my family, the people I cared for the most, but I was leaving the rest of my 

family behind. The only people who came with me were my pregnant mom, 

Roseli; my dad, Roberto; and my sister, Amanda. We planned to move to Cape 

Cod. It was hard to move places, because I did not know anyone but my family, 

and I didn’t understand the language. 

The first place I moved to was a basement. There were barely any neighbors. 

Even though there were other houses in the neighborhood, I did not see any 

kids. It was very lonely not having any friends. The second house we moved into 

was an apartment. This time, there were kids, but I did not know them at first. 

Then, I met Julia. She lived next door to me and became my best friend. We 

would go to each other’s houses. It was so fun. We have stayed friends ever since. 

A month or two later, I went to my first day of school, and it was in the middle 

of the year. I remember like it was yesterday. I was terrified! I did not know 

anyone. I did not speak English. I was afraid that nobody would like me. I went 

to see my kindergarten teacher for the first time. When I saw her, I thought she 

was Brazilian and would understand me. I said, “Oi,” and she looked at me like 

she did not understand me. She started to speak English. That’s when I stopped 

and dropped all my things, and she kept speaking English, and I did not 

understand anything. I was devastated that there were no people who spoke my 

language in school, or if there were, there were none that I knew. 

When I came back home, I cried and cried. With my mom trying to comfort 

me, I was able to stop crying. “What’s wrong?” she said in Portuguese. 

“School was so hard today. I did not understand anything anyone said to me,” 

I told her. 

While I was talking to her, she went to the kitchen and got a tissue. She then 

wiped my face and said, “It’s going to be okay.” 

When I woke up the next day, I did not want to go back to school. My mother 

insisted that I get ready for school. At school, I just watched the clock, hoping 

the time would go fast. Even though I couldn’t tell time, I knew when I would 

be free to go home. Still, no one could help me. 

“WHEN I LOOK BACK, 

I THINK TO MYSELF, 

IF I WAS NOT 

COURAGEOUS, I 

WOULD HAVE GIVEN 

UP, AND I WOULD NOT 

BE HERE TODAY.” 

Finally, the day came when there was a kid that could speak Portuguese. My 

heart leaped with joy. I could finally speak Portuguese with someone. When 

I went to talk to him, I was so happy knowing that I was not alone. He knew 

English, so he translated it for me. Each day, I kept doing Imagine Learning 

on the computer. This program helped me learn English. Over time, I learned 

more and more, enough to talk to people in my class, and depending on what 

the subject was, I could understand some stuff. Then the translator moved to a 

different school, but I had already learned a bit of English. It was still hard 

because I barely had friends. 

The year passed, and it was the last day of school. I was grateful for everyone 

who helped me on my journey. I think the teacher said to me something like, 

“Have a nice summer.” I just started to laugh, even though I barely knew what 

she said. 

Next year came, and I still did not know a lot of English. The first week passed, 

and there was a new kid who could only speak Portuguese, and I knew that I 

had to help him, and I did. When we were all going home after a long day of 

school, the kid said to me in Portuguese, “Thank you so much! When I came 

into this classroom, I was scared, but you were there to translate for me. So 

thank you again.” 

I knew that if I did not give company or help to the kid, he would have had the 

same pain I had when I was in kindergarten. My confidence grew as I went to 

different grades. I got a lot better over time. When I look back, I think to 

myself, if I was not courageous, I would have given up, and I would not be here 

today. I never thought back in kindergarten that I would be able to do this. 

Always be courageous, and never give up! 



30 31

LARIMAR BATISTA PEREZ 

KYLE FARNWORTH, TEACHER 


I sat down on my bed, mind swirling. I had just come out of school, and my 

parents had told me that we were moving. Not moving houses, not moving 

cities, but moving countries. I didn’t know what to think of it. On the last days 

I had in the Dominican Republic, all I thought about was how my life was 

going to change in the blink of an eye. New house, new school, new everything. 

It’s tough to start life anew when you’ve lived in the same place for years. 

Then, finally, the day came. It was all a blur. I barely even remember those 

hours of my life. But despite the weirdness of living in a whole new country, 

life was pretty calm. 

Then, school came. It was stressful being in a room full of a bunch of other kids 

and a teacher you don’t know. I was sitting next to a girl who would become my 

best friend for those two years I was in that school. I didn’t want to say a word 

in class. I felt like my mouth was stitched together. I kept my eyes on the teacher 

the entire time. The teacher was talking about something, and I knew the 

answer. I debated raising my hand or not. What if I got it wrong and 

embarrassed myself? What if everyone laughed at me? I didn’t want that. 

But eventually, I raised my hand anyway. It took immense amounts of courage 

to raise my hand like that. To speak up, on my first day, in a new school. I 

personally think it is what led to me participating more throughout all of fourth, 

fifth, and now sixth grade. I feel proud of myself for showing courage at that 

moment and still showing courage today. 

“ART IS FOR 

EVERYBODY! 

NOTHING’S STOPPING 

YOU FROM PICKING 

UP YOUR PENCIL 

AND DRAWING.” 

up your pencil and drawing. Anybody can be good at art if they try hard 

enough. But honestly, there is no good or bad in art. Art comes in various 

different forms, and some don’t even use pencils or paper. Even if one isn’t for 

you, you have a million different options to choose from! Painting, sculpting, 

even origami is art! You can go absolutely crazy with your art, and nobody’s 

going to stop you! 

To me, courage means to do something without worrying about the 

consequences. I didn’t worry about the consequences when I raised my hand 

at that time, and that helped me grow as a person. I don’t worry about any 

consequences when drawing, and you shouldn’t either! Because of my courage, 

I’ve gotten so far into my progress in art, and I continue growing and growing. 

Courage is an important tool in life, and when you use it, you’ll feel better 

about yourself. 

But that was only one of the times I showed courage, and it was a while ago. 

There is a way that I show courage every week, even almost every day. 

I am an artist. I draw traditionally and digitally, either with a paper and pencil 

or with a digital device like a phone or tablet. In art, you will always make 

mistakes, no matter how skilled or professional you are at it. I always do 

something wrong in my art. I sometimes get frustrated, even, with one little 

mistake after another. Sometimes, the whole art piece never comes out right, 

or I’m even not in the mood to draw. 

But I always try again and again. Most people don’t have the courage and 

determination to do that. They give up, saying it’s “not for them” and that they 

“aren’t good at it.” Art is for everybody! Nothing’s stopping you from picking 



32 33

LUCIA “LULU” MOFFI 

AMY HIGGINBOTHAM AND RICHARD SCHENA, TEACHERS 


What courage means to me is being brave. Find your bravery and stick up for 

yourself. Do what you love; no one’s stopping you. Overcome your fear, don’t 

be scared, feel that light that’s inside you. Your light can guide you. Feel it, 

show it, don’t run. 

One time I showed courage in my life was when my family gave me courage as 

a daughter and a sister. They think I’m special inside. When Mom and Dad 

first raised me and gave birth to me, when I was little, they thought I was 

adorable. They found a perfect name for me, “Lucia Esperanza.” “Esperanza” 

means hope, and “Lucia” means light. My courage is hope and light. 

The time I showed courage was at the Murphy talent show. I went to a holiday 

party at Murphy School. There was a talent show that I wanted to be a part of. 

I had to perform, but I was nervous. This was my first time being in a talent 

show. For my performance, I was singing “At All Costs” from the movie Wish. 

I had a crush on the king of Rosas, the character who sings the song. His name 

is King Magnifico, and he is very handsome and has a cello for a voice. I had 

to perform in front of many people and the Boston Special Education Parent 

Advisory Council. My mom was a part of the show as the Christmas tree. 

There was a ticket raffle. The winner got a prize. 

“I WAS ABLE TO STAND 

STRONG AND ROCKED IT.” 

Overcoming my fear is inspirational to not only me, but others as well. I see 

courage as something everyone can have. My words to others are to face your 

fears and not give up. You can do anything you put your heart and mind to. 

You just have to believe in yourself! 

After waiting for others to perform, it was finally my turn. I felt nervous but also 

confident. I can do this, I’m twelve, my brain said. I stood up strong on the tiled 

floor, took a deep breath, and started to sing, with a picture of Magnifico next 

to me in my mind. He even sang with me, and I began to sing along with my 

favorite song to sing, “At All Costs.” I felt butterflies in my stomach. As I kept 

singing, it felt like flowers coming out of my stomach. 

At the end of my performance, I couldn’t believe I had done it. I also was 

proud of myself. 

After waiting until it was my turn, I was so excited and proud of myself. It was 

not easy, but I did it! All the stars! 

Courage is to become more mature and braver. It allowed me to overcome 

some fears. I was able to stand strong and rocked it. It allowed me to want 

to perform more in my life. 



34 35

KENSLEY MOORE 

LOIS COYNE, TEACHER 

The Woodward School for Girls, Quincy, MA 

When I was only two years old, my family moved to Massachusetts. We moved 

in with my aunt and her dog. My sister started first grade, and she made a 

friend, and they became really close. My mom met my sister’s friend’s mom, 

and we soon learned that she was opening a theater business with my aunt. 

My sister was really excited to join her drama classes. When she started going, 

there were only a few kids. 

I was only four, turning five, and I was shy. I was sentimental and very 

emotional. My sister’s friend’s family was so nice, and we would hang out a lot. 

They had their first play, Seussical, then they did The Little Mermaid, and finally, 

I became old enough to start acting in the plays. 

“I ACTED IN MORE 

PLAYS, MADE MORE 

FRIENDS, AND HELPED 

OTHERS TO KNOW 

THAT THEY ALSO 

HAVE A CAST AND A 

FAMILY CHEERING 

FOR THEM TOO.” 

I did not think I was capable of performing because I was such a shy kid. I was 

scared I would mess it up for everybody. But it looked like so much fun, 

because everyone was friendly, and they were always laughing. I felt really 

scared, but then I found the courage to believe in myself and wanted to try 

new things. When I got on the stage, I felt like I had a big family and a cast 

cheering and supporting me. 

I loved the community and my friends. Then, I realized that I could be 

confident and loud, and I believed in myself. I acted in more plays, made more 

friends, and helped others to know that they also have a cast and a family 

cheering for them too. I learned that I can be myself, and I’m proud that I 

have improved in my confidence. To this day, I still help others and show them 

how special they are. I thank my second family, Mel O’Drama School of 

Acting, for guiding and supporting me. 



36 37

KENDALL REID 

ALEX JONES, TEACHER 


Courage in my words may not be the same as courage in your words, but we 

have both experienced it. Having courage means being willing to accept a 

reality or undertake a task you may be afraid of. We all have different types 

of courage to conquer. All that matters is that you are prepared to take a step 

of courage in the right direction whenever you are faced with something 

difficult or dangerous. 

Hockey has always been one of my favorite sports, whether I was watching or 

playing it. When I was younger, I would watch the Boston Bruins on TV, 

pretending I was David Pastrňák. I started to wonder what it would be like if I 

was the only girl among all those boys playing hockey. As I watched—BAM, 

CRASH, POW!—I heard all the sounds of the players getting pushed, shoved, 

and checked into the boards. My unrealistic expectations for my future in 

hockey started to drift further and further from reality. Could my dreams be 

possible? I wanted to be an inspirational figure. The type of person who could 

forge a path to something big, bigger and greater than what we have today. 

As I got older and started watching my older brothers play their hockey games, 

I began to grow intimidated by how tough boys’ hockey could get at ages eleven 

and up. Although I had already been playing boys’ hockey for almost four years, 

my leagues still weren’t as physical as the older teams. 

Despite the fact that they are the same sport, boys’ and girls’ hockey have some 

major differences. I noticed that whenever I played with boys, they would first 

go for my body to block me from the puck, then try to skate away with it. With 

girls, it was the opposite. When a girl tried to steal a puck from me, she would 

first lift up my stick, then skate away with the puck. Both worked efficiently, but 

I prefer not to be checked into the boards by someone who is double my size. 

You would think checking is a penalty (it is to some degree), yet sometimes the 

referees are so used to rough play that they don’t call many of those penalties. 

I don’t know why boys are more physical than girls, but it was definitely 

something that scared me. I put those thoughts aside and left them for myself 

to ponder later in my hockey career. 

When I turned eleven, my decision time had come. Did I want to continue 

playing boys’ hockey or switch over completely to girls’ hockey? There was 

reasoning behind both sides. If I switched over to all-girls hockey, then my 

“FEARS ARE INEVITABLE 

IN LIFE, AND THE 

ONLY THING THAT 

CAN ABOLISH THEM 

IS COURAGE. SO 

NEVER STOP SHOWING 

COURAGE.” 

dream of playing in the NHL was likely to end, but I wouldn’t have to endure 

the rough play. With boys, it was the reverse. I had made high-stakes decisions 

like this about sports before, but this one felt different. It felt like a choice that 

would change the level of my play to something better or worse. The decision 

was mine. From school, I had learned about challenging myself to my 

maximum capacity. But it was so much harder to take the extra step and push 

myself when I did not know what the outcome would be. I asked my brother 

whether he liked the environment of boys’ hockey or not. It seemed to him that 

he still enjoyed hockey, despite his relatively small size compared to his 

opponents. This convinced me 20 percent. The other 80 percent was pure 

inner courage. I wanted to beat that fear and challenge myself. I didn’t care if 

the boys would be mean or tough on me. All I cared about was that I had the 

opportunity to take another step towards my dream. 

After six months now of playing boys’ hockey, I have concluded that it is not as 

bad as I thought it was going to be. My teammates treat me as an equal and 

never say any rude comments or insult me in any way. I get a couple of shoves 

and snarky comments here and there, but I don’t let it bother me, because I 

know that I was the one who made this courageous decision to continue. I am 

so glad that I continued, because boys’ hockey plays such an important role in 

my life. It applies the right amount of difficulty for me to push myself to 

constantly improve, teaching me to cope with challenges life brings me. 

I have learned so many lessons from this one decision, too many to list. The 

most important one, though, is to always let your courage overpower your fear, 

like I did in this situation. This is why so many adults tell you to “be brave!” or 

“never give up!” Fears are inevitable in life, and the only thing that can abolish 

them is courage. So never stop showing courage. It could lead you another 

step closer to making your dreams possible. 



38 39

MARINA STANDE 

BONNIE HICKEY, TEACHER 


Picture being the only girl on an all-boys team. 

Courage to me is when you face your fear while managing to do something 

brave, and when you can push yourself through hard or scary times. 

My story happened at my old school, Barnstable United Elementary in 

Barnstable, Massachusetts, during fifth-grade recess. I saw my friends, Jameson, 

Luiz, Rian, Oliver, Anthony, Brady, and Tutu. 

“IT TAKES COURAGE 

TO PLAY A SPORT LIKE 

FOOTBALL, BUT I WANT 

OTHER GIRLS TO KNOW 

THAT THEY DON’T 

HAVE TO BE SCARED TO 

PLAY A ‘BOYS’ SPORT.” 

I was on the walking track, where every day, I would watch them play football. 

I wanted to play, but I didn’t want to ask. At some point, I decided to ask some 

of my friends who were girls if they wanted to play football with me. This was 

courageous because I faced my fear and was able to do something I was scared 

to do. At first, they all said no except my one friend, Aatalia. 

Aatalia and I would play football every day and practice. Until one day, one of 

my friends, Luiz, said I had gotten really good at football. He invited me to play 

with him and our other friends. After that, my friend Aatalia wanted to play 

with us, so we let her. 

Soon after that, more and more girls wanted to play football. To me, that made 

me feel proud, because I know that it can be scary asking the question. Girls 

might feel like the boys will make fun of them, but when another girl is playing, 

I feel like they might have more confidence to ask. 

Since fifth grade, I’ve been playing football all summer long. I play with 

Aatalia, Brady, Oliver, Jameson, and Rian at the HYCC, which is the local 

youth community center, or at my friend Brady’s house. I’m either joining flag 

football or tackle football. I feel great about playing football as a girl. It takes 

courage to play a sport like football, but I want other girls to know that they 

don’t have to be scared to play a “boys” sport. I recommend playing flag 

football first if you have never played football before. The reason you should 

play flag football first is because you might not know whether you like it or not. 

It will also give you the skills to play tackle football. 



40 41

SUMMER MAKI 

MELANIE SMITH, TEACHER 


Tears blurred my vision. My cheeks were bright red. I could hear kids 

whispering, “Summer is crying!” as they pulled their knees to their chests. 

My gym teacher came over to me and guided me out of the gym. I felt sick. 

I didn’t know what to do. I knew I couldn’t cry in front of my classmates, but 

I couldn’t hold an ocean of tears behind my eyelids. The school counselor 

brought me into a private room and hugged me tightly. Tears stained my shirt 

and I was hyperventilating. I took deep breaths and struggled to speak. You 

may wonder what caused someone to be so upset. Bullying. I have dealt with 

bullying my whole life. I have always tried to ignore it, but it always caught 

up to me. Being bullied is scary. It takes courage to stand up to a bully. 

This all started in fifth grade. I had signed up for student council, and it was 

campaigning week. This was when everyone got posters and hung them up and 

tried to convince everyone to vote for them. I had always wanted to be part of 

the student council. I thought that people would have more respect for me and 

that it would be a fun opportunity. My friends and I were the first ones to hang 

up our posters. We were so excited for everyone to see them. My posters had 

reasons why everyone should vote for me, and I added some glitter and stickers 

so people would know I meant business. 

After a quick math lesson, it was time for a snack break. My friends and I lined 

up and admired all the new posters from other students. 

“Well, yours has glitter, but that one has a funny joke on it,” Fiona said as she 

twirled her hair. 

“Yeah, but that one is giant!” Tasnem said, pointing to a giant poster with 

bubble letters on it. 

This excitement disappeared in seconds once people saw my posters. 

“Summer, are you seriously trying to make the school pick up trash? That’s 

pathetic. No one is going to vote for you,” said another candidate. 

Trust me, that’s not what the poster said. The posters were about putting trash 

cans on the playgrounds so kids wouldn’t litter! But, that rumor spread like 

wildfire. Everyone started believing what he said. My chances were doomed. 

This was not all that the bullies did to me. 

“I SHOWED COURAGE 

BY STANDING UP 

FOR MYSELF, EVEN 

THOUGH IT WAS HARD, 

UNCOMFORTABLE, 

AND CHALLENGING.” 

I was lining up for lunch and walked over to the new posters. I was admiring 

the new sparkly poster when I realized that all of my posters were gone. Every 

one of them was gone. I turned to see the kids in the hallway staring at me. 

Like they were waiting for me to cry. I had been humiliated in front of 

everyone. Everyone knew how pathetic my posters were. 

This was my breaking point. I was going to drop out of the race. The bully had 

gotten to me, and I couldn’t do it anymore. But this did not affect what the 

bullies did. They didn’t care that I wasn’t running for student council anymore. 

They didn’t care that they hurt me. They just kept on going. 

I waved to my friends as I sat down at the lunch table. 

“I’m sorry about that, Summer. But you can’t quit!” Fiona pleaded. 

“I know but—OW!” I screamed. Something yanked my hair. 

I turned around to see another candidate. What more do you want from me? 

“What do you want? Just leave me alone!” I screamed at him. 

“It was just an accident. No wonder no one wanted to vote for you.” He rolled 

his eyes and walked away. 

I looked up to see EVERYONE staring at me. I knew what they were all 

thinking. They were all judging me. My face turned beet red. I just embarrassed 

myself in front of everyone! They probably think I am a terrible person! 

Just when you think the bullies will leave you alone, they never will. It was 

sports club, last period. I just had to get through this. I walked down the hall 

to see posters saying, “Don’t vote for Summer! She wants to make us her 

servants!” I was done. I tore the poster off the wall and stormed down the 



42 43

hall. I ran down to the gym and threw my stuff down. I heard kids laughing 

and talking about me as we stretched. Tears built up until it was blurry. I 

blinked and a heavy tear ran down my face. STOP IT! STOP CRYING! My 

gym teacher came over and guided me out the door. I met the school 

counselor in her office, and we talked until it was time to go home. I felt like 

I could never show my face in school again. 

But then I woke up on Monday and had to go to school. 

I dressed nicely, and so did other students. Some wore suits, some wore dresses. 

I was guided to the front row of the noise-filled auditorium, where I sat with my 

speech folded in my hand. The school counselor and my mom had convinced 

me to join the election again. I could feel my legs shaking as I walked on stage. 

Is it too late to walk off the stage? I unfolded my paper, turned on the microphone, 

took a breath, and then: “Hello, fifth grade…” 

Weeks went by with no results. I was lying in my bed, surrounded by tissues, 

home sick with strep throat. I had forgotten about the election until my phone 

chimed. It was a text from my best friend. 

“SUMMMMER! You won the election!” I was shocked! I jumped out of bed 

to tell my dad and mom. I did it. I really did it! 

I showed courage by standing up for myself, even though it was hard, 

uncomfortable, and challenging. Even though what I did wasn’t something 

extraordinary, like fighting in a war or saving someone’s life, I still showed 

courage by never giving up on what I believed in. People tore my posters 

down, and people made fun of me, but I still walked onto the stage and gave 

the best speech I could. And that is what mattered. 



44 45

OLIVER PATEL 

SARAH TRAN, TEACHER 

St. Agatha School, Milton, MA 

Have you ever wondered why people bully? If not, have you at least wondered 

how the targets of bullying might handle all the stress that comes at them? 

Well, I recently experienced this. I have been told a million times that I am 

a courageous and respectful kid, but to me, being courageous is a very hard 

thing to do. 

When I was bullied, I would mainly ignore it. I would always focus on getting 

my work done before participating in anything fun, and I got bullied for that. 

My classmates were always the ones to do the exact opposite of what I did, 

so when I refused to join them in their thievery or mockery of a teacher, they 

would start to call me names and mentally abuse me. 

Another thing that they bullied me for was that I did not understand some of 

the slang words that they used. I learned quickly that these words were from 

social media (something I don’t have), and they were not good words. I was 

oblivious to their meanings. My bullies would use derogatory words, and I 

would not be able to defend myself because I didn’t have a clue about the 

meanings of the words that they used. This happened for three years. 

Over time, I learned things about these bullies that I could use against them 

if they called me names. The bullying slowed down a lot, but it was not gone. 

During my second year at the school, I dealt with it by ignoring it and keeping 

it to myself. (I now know not to do that.) I continued to ignore it for the entire 

year, until a fateful event. 

“I HOPE TO SHARE 

MY STORY WITH THE 

WORLD TO HELP 

KIDS WHO MIGHT 

BE GOING THROUGH 

WHAT I HAVE ALREADY 

EXPERIENCED.” 

When we had finished our field trip and gone back to our school, I went to the 

principal immediately. This may seem like the obvious thing to do to most 

people, but for those who are bullied, this is a very hard thing to do, since it 

will increase the amount of bullying you will have to take on. When I went to 

the principal, he helped me a lot. Many kids were kicked out, and the rest 

were given suspensions or detentions. This was the first time that someone 

called me courageous, but he did not just call me a courageous kid, he gave me 

reasons why. 

I learned a lot from this experience, and it is an experience that has shaped my 

character today. This is my biggest accomplishment so far in terms of courage, 

but I feel that I have the ability to accomplish many more courageous things. 

I hope to share my story with the world to help kids who might be going 

through what I have already experienced. 

The day started like a regular school day, except we were going on a field trip. 

I was called names and mocked the entire time, until we went to a field to eat 

lunch and play some sports. The first thing that happened to me was a bunch 

of kids started to approach me, calling me names and trying to get me to fight 

them, but I withheld. The next thing to happen was that one of the boys went 

and got a cardboard box and flattened it. Before I could run away, he started to 

hit me with the box. Instead of doing what I would have usually done in that 

scenario and running away, I fought. By fighting, I mean I blocked the box 

when it came at me, and I swept the kid off of his feet. When the rest of the kids 

came at me, that was when I knew to start running, because I was outnumbered. 



46 47

STACY JEAN JOSEPH 

MELISSA MA AND NICOLE PRECOURT, TEACHERS 


When I was younger, I didn’t really think about what courage actually meant 

to me. I had a basic understanding of just having faith in myself. But believe it 

or not, as I grew up, I realized that courage means to have strength throughout 

difficult, dark times. When I was in second grade, I was going through a rough 

time while figuring out who my real friends were, and I felt so crushed and 

defeated. I wouldn’t stop crying. When my mom went to check on me, I told 

her about the situation, and she gave me some advice to get myself together 

and to pick myself back up. 

At the beginning of second grade, my goal was to make new friends at 

school. I saw this girl sitting all alone who didn’t have anyone to play with or 

talk to. So, of course, I couldn’t let her sit all alone doing nothing! I didn’t 

know at that moment that she was going to change my life. I went up to her 

and said, “Hi, is it okay if I play with you?” 

She turned her head to me and replied, “Sure.” We were playing as if we 

had been besties for a long time. We became inseparable! 

The next day, my dad dropped me off at school as usual. I was so excited to 

play with this girl again. She was so nice! As I was walking into the 

classroom with joy, I spotted her whispering to this other girl while looking 

in my direction. Maybe she was looking at the person behind me, I thought. I 

continued to walk with joy towards her. The other girl who was whispering 

walked away. I didn’t care, and I asked my new friend, “Do you want to play 

at recess again today?” 

But she had a totally different mood than yesterday. She said back, “Um, idk... 

but can I ask you a question?” 

I replied back, “Sure,” thinking it was going to be some random question, 

but no—it was a very serious question. 

This “friend” was asking about my skin and why my skin complexion was 

light. She asked me, “Aren’t you Black?” and I said, “Yeah… ?” She started 

laughing with the friend she was whispering with because she didn’t believe 

I was Black. She would even call me “white” and said I was “too white to be 

Black.” Standing there in silence and in shock, I felt the tears running down 

my cheeks. She made me hate my own skin because I was a little lighter than 

“YOUR SKIN IS 

BEAUTIFUL AS IT IS.” 

my family. At this point, I wanted the day to end already. At the end of the 

school day, when I got picked up by my dad, I tried hiding my tears 

throughout the whole walk home. I didn’t want him to feel worried or mad, 

because I thought he would talk to the school about it and get the girl in 

trouble. I didn’t want that, so I kept quiet. 

When we got home, I burst into the house, passing my mom without even 

saying hi to her or telling her how my day was. Running to my room, I 

jumped on my bed and started crying and thinking about the fact that my 

friend was making fun of me about my skin. My mom came in and heard me 

crying. She asked, “What’s wrong? You passed me in the kitchen without 

saying hi.” I turned my head around with red eyes and tears all over my face. 

I told her it was nothing, but she didn’t believe me. She said that she was my 

mom, and I could tell her anything. I told her about what happened in 

school. She responded, “Stacy, you shouldn’t let people talk bad about your 

skin and who you are. Don’t let her get to you. Your skin is beautiful as it is. 

Don’t mind her awful comments! You are not white, you are Black.” After 

that, she gave me a much-needed hug. 

My mom’s advice taught me a lot about life. When you hear negative words, 

just remember to ignore them and keep moving forward. It was hard at first, 

but I built up the courage to get myself together, ignore mean comments, 

and make real friends. 



48 49

AAMNA SHAH 

SARA COYLE, TEACHER 


Courage, to me, is standing up for yourself and being confident in front of 

others, even if someone is belittling you for the way you look, and making 

you insecure about yourself, and making you feel like you’re not beautiful for 

who you are. 

One day, I was doing my hair into a different style and putting on some new 

clothes I got the day before (a black t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants). I thought 

I looked good. Then I was at school, and people were staring at me and 

whispering to their friends. One person came up to me and said, “Wow, with 

that hairstyle, your forehead looks big.” 

That person’s friends started laughing at me, then I heard them saying to each 

other, “Do you see what that person is wearing? That person looks so emo.” 

I covered my shirt and did not think I looked good anymore. 

“AFTER THAT DAY, 

NOW, I’M MORE 

COURAGEOUS AND 

CONFIDENT, AND I 

DON’T LET ANYONE 

PUT ME DOWN.” 

They said, “We’re sorry for what we said to you. We promise we won’t do it 

again.” I was happy that they apologized; it made me feel better about myself 

and how I am. 

After that day, now, I’m more courageous and confident, and I don’t let anyone 

put me down. I also stand up for myself and say what I want to say. 

I went back home and went into my room, and I thought, I can’t just sit here and 

do nothing, but what should I do? I know, I can be courageous! 

Then it was the middle of the day on Monday, and we had just finished math 

class. I saw those people who were making fun of me last Friday, and I said to 

myself, Okay, you got this. All you have to do is talk to them about what they did to you. 

I went up to them and said, “Hey, I want to talk about what happened yesterday.” 

They responded, “No, we’re good. Just leave us alone.” 

I started walking away, but then my confidence came to me. I turned around 

and said, “No, I’m not going anywhere without talking to you.” 

They were surprised I said that, because I don’t always stand up for myself. 

They said, “Fine, we can talk.” 

I said, “I didn’t like the way you guys were making fun of my hairstyle and 

clothes; it really hurt me a lot, and I was insecure after that and thought I 

looked disgusting. So can you please not say those negative things about me 

or anyone else?” 



50 51

AISLING ROYAL 

AMY HIGGINBOTHAM AND RICHARD SCHENA, TEACHERS 


Courage to me is to be able to advocate for myself without hesitation. To be 

able to show people in the world that I can do this. Lots of people will say, 

“Courage is just to be strong or brave.” But for me, I show courage in a 

different way. I have to show courage many times in my life when people 

insult my family. 

“Did your dad go get the milk and never come back?” or, “What’s it like being 

fatherless?” or, “Are you adopted?” These are the questions that I have to show 

courage about. They are mean and hurtful to me because these questions ask 

about my family. Ever since fourth grade, my family being a little bit different 

has given people a topic to tease my twin sister and me about. Instead of my 

family having one mom and one dad, my family has two moms! 

On a sunny but breezy day earlier in the fall of this year, I was outside for an 

elective class at school. The gym teacher said, “All right, let’s do our warmups, 

then we can have free time.” Everybody obviously wanted free time, so 

they did the warm-ups quickly. When that was done, all of the students in my 

class split off into their friend groups. I decided to talk with some girls I had 

never really talked to before. We were all having a great time, until somehow, 

the topic started to lean towards talking about our families. I had no idea what 

to say. I did not want to be teased. I stood there for a while and listened. 

Eventually, I started to add things about my family. People were asking 

questions in a nice way for a while. Then out of nowhere, a girl walked up to 

me and said, “Hey Aisling, Where’s your dad?” Then she went to her friends 

and started giggling, as if she was intending to be rude. I was in shock that I 

had been teased again. At that moment, I was on the verge of crying. I stood 

there trying not to cry for what seemed like forever. I tried to think of exciting 

things, but it was impossible. One of the girls in the group tried to make sure 

I was okay. As time went on, tears started to drip from my eyes. I tried my 

hardest to show courage at that moment. 

“I AM EXTREMELY 

PROUD TO HAVE MY 

MOMS IN MY LIFE, AND 

I HAVE LEARNED TO 

HAVE THE COURAGE 

TO NOT CARE WHAT 

ANYBODY THINKS OF 

MY BEAUTIFUL FAMILY.” 

I was silent for a moment. I really wanted to run out of the school and go home. 

“SHE INSULTED ME ABOUT NOT HAVING A DAD!” I screamed, as I 

started to sob. The gym coach realized what was happening. He walked me into 

the principal’s office. When I was there, I talked about how badly it hurt to be 

insulted that way. About ten minutes later, somebody brought in the girl who 

had teased me. I wiped my eyes before talking again. 

The principal said to me, “Tell her how bad it hurts inside.” I started to tear up 

again. Eventually, I gained the courage again to talk, and I explained in full 

detail why I was so upset. 

After we had a long conversation and the girl was forced to apologize, I went 

back to class. Nobody really spoke of what happened. I was glad, because I 

could focus on other things instead of sitting in the principal’s office and crying. 

Like I said at the beginning of my story, being insulted has happened to me 

many times. To this day, I know that people will be curious when I tell them 

I have two moms. But I have built up the strength to show people I don’t 

care if they make fun of me. I am extremely proud to have my moms in my 

life, and I have learned to have the courage to not care what anybody thinks 

of my beautiful family. 

I walked away. I made my way to a bench far from the field. I sat there for a 

while trying to calm myself. Eventually the gym coach came up to me and 

asked me, “What’s wrong?” 



52 53

ANNABEL BLIER 

DIONNE MANCHESTER, TEACHER 


In May 2008, my sister was born. When she was born, she had to be rushed 

to another hospital. My dad was on the ambulance’s tail, not stopping for 

anything or anyone, because that was his baby girl inside! Just one hour later, 

Abagail was alive, but she was sick, so she had to stay in the hospital. Once 

she was healthy enough, she was home. Then, just two years later, in April 

2010, I was born, and my brothers and my sister were happy! I brought joy 

to my sister and my brothers, but when I was eleven months old, my sister, 

my brother and I were taken out of our parents’ house and placed into a 

foster home. That foster home is where my life changed. 

My brother would soon be separated from my sister and me. My sister always 

tried to stay by my side. She told me that as long as we have each other, that’s 

the only family we need, and she promised to always be there for me. After 

four years of going in and out of foster homes, my sister and I were placed into 

a foster home that I will always blame for my anxiety, PTSD, and depression. 

I was eight years old at the time, and my sister was ten. In that house, I would 

be starved and abused mentally and physically. The unthinkable cruelty and 

abuse was more intense than I can put into words. Once, one of the fosters 

used a weapon and said that if I ever told anyone about what he was doing, 

he would shoot me and my sister. So I kept quiet. When I would be starved, 

my sister would sneak me food and water. She was always the shoulder to cry 

on. She was always there for me, but at the same time, she would also do 

everything she could to be taken out of there. Every time she was removed, she 

would be gone for, like, a week, so I would tell myself, She’ll be back. But one 

time, she never came back. I lost my best friend. My will to live was gone. I 

was alone for one year at that place, until I found out I would finally be placed 

in a foster house with my sister. I was happy! 

“ALL OF THE THINGS 

I’VE BEEN THROUGH 

HAVE BROUGHT ME 

TO WHERE I AM 

AND MADE ME WHO 

I AM TODAY—A 

COURAGEOUS, STRONG, 

INTELLIGENT, ACTIVE, 

FUN, SILLY, BRIGHT 

FUTURE DOCTOR.” 

with Terry and Jose for almost five years. I still have depression, PTSD, and 

anxiety, but my family helps me through it. And my sister has kept her promise; 

she is always there for me. 

Although I still deal with my mental health, I am surrounded by people who 

love and support me, people who will always be by my side, no matter what, 

and for that, I am forever grateful. All of the things I’ve been through have 

brought me to where I am and made me who I am today—a courageous, 

strong, intelligent, active, fun, silly, bright future doctor. 

On March 26, 2019, I was placed into Terry and Jose’s home. I didn’t talk 

much at first because I didn’t know if I could trust them. It took five months 

until I called them my parents, and now I will call them that forever. I told 

them what happened at the other house, and that house was closed down. I 

went to therapy, and I still do go to therapy. I now see my brother two times a 

month, and I am also seeing my biological parents regularly. Best of all, I have 

my best friend back! I am now thirteen, and my sister is fifteen. We have been 



54 55

MAIYA YANCY 

TED DOOLIN, TEACHER 


When you think about courage, what do you imagine? Everyone’s perspective 

on courage is different. When I think of courage, I think of my mother. 

She is brave, outgoing, full of strength, confident, and fearless. All of the 

characteristics I have just listed appear in my definition of courage. 

My mother, Casey, works at Boston Medical Center, along with her best friend, 

Katlyn Campbell. In 2020, during the pandemic which took the whole world 

by surprise, these two did something that would truly shock most. What my 

mother and her best friend did takes courage. Not all people have courage in 

them like these two do. They work in the ICU, or intensive care unit, meaning 

most of their patients are in critical condition. Due to the pandemic, patients 

who may not have had much time to live were not able to have their families 

come see them, because of visitor restrictions. 

“WHEN I THINK OF 

COURAGE, I THINK 

OF MY MOTHER.” 

My mother and her best friend had the courageous idea to ask people in the 

community for, first, a printer; second, lots and lots of ink; and lastly, their 

support. With these things, my mother and her best friend printed out pictures 

of all of their patients’ families and hung them in their patients’ rooms, allowing 

them to see their families whenever they needed. Doing this for their patients 

during an extremely tough time in the world shows that simple, courageous 

actions can make all the difference, especially when it comes down to allowing 

people to see their loved ones. 

Each day, during the start of the pandemic, when my mother went to work, she 

feared. She wasn’t sure what COVID was, when it would go away, or if it was 

going to become even worse than it already was. It takes an exceptionally 

courageous person to go to work every day with a million questions and still 

have a smile on their face when they come home. That’s what makes my 

mother and her best friend truly courageous. 

Keep in mind that all this time, from going to work, to coming home from 

work, to doing it all again, my mother stayed motivated and willing to wake up 

with a smile on her face. She continuously kept that smile on her face every day 

she went to work and came home. For my mother to be able to do that takes 

“mental or moral strength to venture, persevere, and withstand danger, fear, 

or difficulty,” which is the definition of courage. 



56 57

MASON FINN 

FAITH SMITH, TEACHER 

South Boston Catholic Academy, Boston, MA 

Courage can vary from mind to mind, country to country, culture to culture, 

and language to language. In my opinion, the definition of courage should be 

the mental, emotional, and sometimes physical toughness to adapt and react 

quickly in a calm or brave manner, regardless of what is perceived as 

dangerous, or different, or difficult. 

One time I showed courage was when I assisted an elderly man who had fallen 

down. I was walking down the street, coming home from a long day at school. 

We were walking normally when we all of a sudden spotted an elderly man who 

had lost his balance and was physically unable to get up and walk. Others may 

not have seen him or may have just been ignoring him. My best friend and I, 

without hesitation, ran across the street to assist the aged man. We nearly got 

struck by a vehicle, but we continued. Once we reached the downed man, we 

started asking if he was injured. He said that he was completely fine but just 

needed help getting up. We started to help him up, and he was able to stand 

up on his own, but just in case, we still stayed by his side to prevent him from 

falling down again. Thankfully, some people he knew recognized him and 

drove him home safely. 

“YOU CAN’T CONTROL 

HOW MANY THINGS 

YOU DO THAT TAKE 

COURAGE, BUT WHAT 

YOU CAN CONTROL 

IS HOW WELL 

YOU HANDLE THE 

LITTLE MOMENTS, 

EVEN IF THEY SEEM 

UNIMPORTANT.” 

I know that this is a story that may seem insignificant or minor, but it was a 

time when I realized that I had the automatic reaction to help somebody who 

was in need of serious help. I always thought if I was in a situation like this, I 

would freeze and not know what to do. Even though it was a moment of shock 

and nervousness, I still was able to make the right decision and help somebody 

who was in desperate need of it. You know what they say: “It’s the little things 

that count.” 

Since that day, I have more confidence that I will truly make the right decisions 

for both others and myself. It also has proven to me that I am indeed brave and 

can do hard things. It makes me look at myself just a little bit differently. 

I know it may not seem like much, but a lot of little things can add up. The sum 

of all of those “little” things you do eventually become a big part of who you 

are as a person. You can’t control how many things you do that take courage, 

but what you can control is how well you handle the little moments, even if they 

seem unimportant. 



58 59

NOORAH A. 

KENDALL A., TEACHER 

Alhuda Academy, Worcester, MA 

On October 7, 2023, a war between Israel and Hamas broke out. Thousands 

of innocent people have been killed, and many of them were helpless children. 

All I could do was watch the television play videos of children that were injured 

and crying—devastated people looking for their family members under the 

rubble, bombs, and more. I wanted to help them in any way I could, but I felt 

useless. I thought showing courage was fighting in wars or rescuing people, and 

these were things that I could not do, but I was wrong. Courage can be the 

littlest things that you may not even notice. 

“WITHOUT EVERY SINGLE PERSON’S 

PRESENCE, THE PROTEST WOULD NOT 

HAVE HAPPENED, AND THE IMPACT 

WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN THE SAME.” 

I wanted to help, so I went to a protest. I felt it was a small way for my voice to 

be heard. It was also my first protest. It was so crowded. The whole street was 

filled with protesters chanting, “Ceasefire now!” I felt so small compared to the 

crowd. We walked and walked for hours. My feet were sore and had blisters by 

the end, but I pushed myself to keep walking. We walked until the sun had set 

and the sky had become dark. I thought that I didn’t do anything, that I hadn’t 

accomplished anything. But it turned out that the crowd of protesters was so 

big that it was on the news! 

I saw how big the crowd was and that the protest was important enough to 

make it to the news. I was happy that I was there to be part of it and to see 

it happen. In the moment, I felt so small compared to the crowd, but then 

I realized that every person played a part. Without every single person’s 

presence, the protest would not have happened, and the impact would not 

have been the same. Everyone’s voice was heard. Everyone was important. 

I was important. 

You don’t have to only attend protests. You can also choose to stand up in 

other ways, too. The point is, even small actions are courageous and make 

a difference. 



60 61

ISAIAH GREEN 

JAMIE CANAVAN, TEACHER 


It was November 14, and I was in the locker room getting ready for hockey 

practice. Well, I was, until I heard my goalie yell across the room, “Are you 

[slur] ready for this?” What he called me and my friend was a very bad, 

racially charged insult. I got into this situation because of my race. I am 

Wampanoag and Cape Verdean, and I am proud to represent both of these 

cultures. Courage to me is standing up for what’s right and taking action. 

In this instance, I stood up for myself, my friend, and everyone else who the 

goalie insulted. 

The problem started two weeks earlier. He started calling me and my friend 

slurs related to my race and my friend’s religion. It quickly turned into him 

hitting us and stopping us from getting on the ice. Every time it happened, 

I was always enraged, but I just looked at the ground, unsure what to do. 

Fast forward to the date of this story. It got a lot worse because he started 

punching and kicking us. The bullying escalated from verbal to physical. This 

continued into December, when he began to yell religious and racial slurs. In 

one instance, he pretended to whip me with a belt. He even used a hand gesture 

that has been considered extremely hateful since the time of the Holocaust. 

While this happened, most of my teammates appeared to not care at all and 

would even laugh when he did this. 

Finally, around Christmas, while he was yelling to the team about us, my friend 

and I had enough. We met in the lobby outside of practice to discuss what we 

should do about this. We decided that the very next time that he tried to hurt 

one of us, we would address the problem openly. 

The day came soon after. He yelled a slur at me related to my Wampanoag 

heritage and ran toward me in a threatening manner. My friend intercepted 

and stopped him from hurting me. After this instance of standing up for 

ourselves, the bully stopped trying to attack. However, we were disappointed 

in the reactions of our teammates. We did not have their support and were 

told to keep silent. 

“THAT IS MY STORY OF 

COURAGE, AND I HOPE 

IT INSPIRES OTHERS 

TO STAND UP TO HATE 

AND TO ALLOW PEOPLE 

THE OPPORTUNITY 

TO CHANGE FOR 

THE BETTER.” 

My friend and I told our fathers about the bully’s abuse and the lack of 

support from our hockey team. Our fathers stood up for us to the coach. They 

argued our case for hours, and we drove home quietly and somberly. I was 

tired of explaining the story at this point, but I needed to keep explaining my 

side. This entire process was exhausting, but overall, it was worth it. 

In the following weeks, my coach was extra nice to me. The team was not 

happy with the fact that the goalie was going to be kicked off the team. 

My act of courage was then pushed further. I decided to fight to keep the goalie, 

who had bullied me, on the team. I did this because he deserved forgiveness 

after he apologized to us. People should be allowed to grow and learn from 

their mistakes. So, I set out to meet the coach to tell him that he should forgive 

the goalie for his actions. 

Overall, I learned that courage isn’t all about fighting for something; it can be 

about going against everybody and then standing up for what’s right. Courage 

can also mean being willing to trust that people can change and allowing them 

the opportunity to prove it. That is my story of courage, and I hope it inspires 

others to stand up to hate and to allow people the opportunity to change for 

the better. 



62 63

AMINA AWAN 

BRENDAN MORRISON, TEACHER 

Al-Noor Academy, Mansfield, MA 

Courage can come in many forms, and for many people, it doesn’t have to be 

like a lion roaring in their ears loudly. Sometimes, it’s the little voice at the end 

of the day telling you to go on, saying that it’s proud of you. Courage doesn’t 

take just bravery, although that alone is a great thing to have and can 

encourage you to become courageous. (It’s a huge factor!) But it requires time 

and determination. 

I had a friend, once, who mistreated me greatly. They made me feel bad about 

myself, and often, I found myself upset over their messages and rude 

comments. I seemed to be uncomfortable talking to them or being around 

them. They always had something to say or add, even if it wasn’t needed and 

was always negative, never positive or appreciative. I don’t think they showed 

gratitude at all, either. They never seemed to stop speaking, nothing but 

mockery and blatant lies, and didn’t show remorse for anything they’d caused, 

no matter the severity. 

I told them how disrespectful they were, not just to me, but to other people, 

and they didn’t seem to care and disregarded my feelings. Sometimes, they did 

apologize, but whenever they did, it seemed sarcastic or forced, like a weird 

joke. Even if they showed effort or at least tried to replicate empathy in their 

apologies, they later admitted that they meant nothing said. I don’t remember 

if they meant it at the time of apologizing, but I know that they don’t now. 

“COURAGE DOESN’T 

JUST WORK WITH 

A SNAP OF YOUR 

FINGERS OR WITH A 

MAGICAL CHANT.” 

Courage helped me in various different ways, and I don’t have a lot of extra 

words to add about it, but this perhaps will inspire people to be courageous. 

Courage doesn’t just work with a snap of your fingers or with a magical chant. 

It takes you gathering your bravery and taking the time and determination to 

bring about an act of courage. And for me, it took a lot. I’ve been much 

happier since then, and I’ve made new friends and surrounded myself with 

people who really do appreciate me, rather than people who shunned me and 

made me feel bad. 

I tried to talk things out, but it irritated me that we were still friends. Nothing 

was changing. I was still pretty disappointed with our friendship, and I had had 

enough. Is it better to have no friends, or friends who make you feel bad about 

yourself no matter the scenario or instance? If they deemed my attempts to talk 

about how I felt to be futile, then I would be done. 

That day, when I came home, I sent them a message telling them I’d prefer 

that we not interact like we used to. I always had to reach out to them first; 

they never talked to me first. That in itself may not be a bad thing, but to me, 

it was clear that they had no empathy or feelings of understanding about my 

emotions. They didn’t talk to me because they didn’t care about me. Though 

it felt bad sending them that message, it had to be done. Now, I don’t feel 

guilty, and instead, proud. I dodged a bullet. 



64 65

ISABELLA CHAREST 

VALERIE CARVALHO, TEACHER 


What I think courage means is being able to handle a situation bravely, without 

giving up. Courage is being able to get through a frightening situation while 

being able to maintain yourself by being brave, and to have a good mind to 

carry on in a difficult situation. 

When I was in the first grade, I used to get bullied for being “ugly” or for 

wearing glasses. I used to get called “four eyes” and get bullied for my looks. 

Often, I would get teased or hit, but I was too scared to tell anyone. When I was 

in the first grade, I wanted to be friends with everybody, and I let people take 

advantage of me. One specific time in my school cafeteria, a girl in my class 

punched me in my nose. Why, you ask? Because older kids saw me getting 

bullied, and yet they provoked my classmate to punch me in the face. I don’t 

know why they wanted the satisfaction of seeing younger kids hit each other, 

instead of being good role models. I knew what the girl did was wrong, so I 

tried to tell the teacher, but she didn’t listen and simply said, “Get back in line.” 

I didn’t understand why the teachers paid no attention to what just happened, 

but I left it at that. 

Day after day, I would constantly get bullied in the stalls, hallways, and 

classrooms. The teachers acknowledged what was going on, but they didn’t take 

it seriously and thought it was just a “play fight.” I finally told my parents about 

how I was getting bullied. My breaking point was when some girl pushed me 

hard down the stairs. I fell, but I caught myself on the railing when my face 

banged against it, causing my glasses to fall and break. I remember when I got 

home the day my glasses broke, my mom was aggravated and asked what 

happened. When I told my parents everything that had been happening, my 

dad was furious. The next day, when my dad picked me up, he was talking to 

my teacher about what happened. She said it would never happen again. I went 

to school the next day relieved, thinking nothing bad would happen to me, but 

I was wrong. The bullying never stopped. My classmates would still make fun of 

me. At recess, I would get pushed to the ground and scrape my skin on cement. 

I would get pushed into metal monkey bars and hurt my head. Now, I always 

told my parents, so my dad kept a notebook where he would write everything 

that would happen. My mother and father began looking into new schools, 

trying to get me to transfer. 

“IF YOU ARE GOING 

THROUGH SOMETHING 

I WENT THROUGH OR 

SOMETHING SIMILAR, 

YOU SHOULD TELL A 

TRUSTED ADULT. I 

KNOW I WOULDN’T 

BE HOW I AM NOW 

IF I HADN’T. ” 

They finally found a school that said they would help me and make sure I 

would feel comfortable at all times. Once I got transferred there, I expected 

the bullying, and I expected to be alone. When I got assigned to my classroom, 

everybody was so welcoming, and I finally thought my problems would be 

solved. I didn’t get bullied in this new school, but I was struggling with the 

curriculum. I didn’t know how to add on top of each other, multiply, or tell 

time. I was struggling in this new school—not with bullying, but now I was 

struggling with schoolwork. I had a hard time adapting to the new school and 

knew I had to start working harder. I remembered how, when I was getting 

bullied, I was scared to tell anyone. Once I told my parents, the bullying was 

solved. I was able to solve it. I knew that if I trusted myself, things would go 

just fine, so I started to ask more questions and asked for help. 

In the second week of my new school, I started making new friends, and I 

started showing growth in my work. I went home one day and realized 

something: I never would have been so happy if I kept everything a secret. If I 

had never told my parents about constant bullying that wasn’t being handled, 

I would have never been able to go to the new school I attended at the time. 

If you are going through something I went through or something similar, you 

should tell a trusted adult. I know I wouldn’t be how I am now if I hadn’t. 

I used to think I would get hurt by my “friends” if I told anyone about the 

bullying. That wasn’t true. You never know until you try. Do what you’re able 

to do, without giving up. 

Never give up, no matter what. Have faith in yourself. 



66 67

ILLIA LEBEDIEV 

SCOTT LARIVEE, TEACHER 


When the war in Ukraine started, my brother, my mother, and I went with 

friends to Moldova because it was dangerous in Ukraine. When we got there, 

we didn’t know where to live, so we went to a hostel and lived there for a week. 

After some time, some more friends came to us. Then, we traveled to Poland 

with some of our friends, and our other friends went to Romania. We lived in 

Poland for six months. I learned their language and went to school there. After 

that, we went back to Ukraine. We lived there for one to two months. While we 

were living there, we heard an explosion, so we escaped to Romania, and we 

lived there for almost six months! But I did not learn the language and did not 

go to school there. After that, my father came to us, and we flew to America 

in the summer. 

“WHILE WE TRAVELED 

BETWEEN DIFFERENT 

COUNTRIES, I DIDN’T 

EVEN THINK ABOUT 

WHAT A COURAGEOUS 

ACT I WAS DOING.” 

At first, we lived in a friend’s house for about a month. The first one to two 

weeks, we did paperwork. And when we were at home, we played games or 

played on the phone. After that, we moved to the apartment where we live now. 

At first, there was nothing there except the dressing room, the kitchen, and the 

bed we bought, but we didn’t sleep there and went to our friends’ instead. The 

next day, we found a sofa on sale. And now, we have completely moved. A 

month later, we bought a car from the same friends, and life became much 

easier. I was very glad then that we had a car. 

Nothing interesting happened for at least the first two or three months that we 

lived in America. Because I had nothing to do, I was bored all those days. But 

then, when I went to school, it became much more fun, because I started 

learning the language more, and I made new friends. 

While we traveled between different countries, I didn’t even think about what a 

courageous act I was doing. I just felt emotions: joy and sadness, anger and 

kindness, as well as many other emotions. Therefore, I believe that this situation 

has changed my relatives and me. I became less worried and afraid. It’s just that 

I used to take everything to heart; I could get upset over some small trifle, but 

now, I don’t. I also believe that I showed courage because I was not afraid of 

the fact that I would never again see my old apartment, my friends, and 

everything I had in Ukraine. 



68 69

EVAN OSTAPCHUK 

MICHAEL ANDREWS, TEACHER 


It’s dangerous to have cystic fibrosis, but I will not let it control my life or the 

things that I do. Cystic fibrosis causes thick, sticky mucus to build up in the 

lungs, digestive tract, and other areas of the body. It’s dangerous, and some kids 

stay in the hospital because their CF is worse than mine. One thing about CF is 

I have to do treatments to make my lungs stronger, but I am grateful that I do 

not have to live at the hospital. Some people in my school want to learn about 

CF. People ask me what it’s like having CF, and I tell them: some are not good 

cases and some are not bad cases, but it could be dangerous to have, because if 

two people with CF are in the same room, one of them could get very sick and 

die. Having cystic fibrosis takes courage. You have to push through every time 

when things are difficult. 

“HAVING CYSTIC 

FIBROSIS TAKES 

COURAGE. YOU 

HAVE TO PUSH 

THROUGH EVERY 

TIME WHEN THINGS 

ARE DIFFICULT.” 

I will power through when I get sick or get surgery. If I have a bad day, my 

friends and my family put a smile on my face and give me the courage to make 

me feel good about myself. This is how I deal with my cystic fibrosis every day. 

I was six years old when the doctor told my mother and father that I had CF. 

I was sick a lot, and my mother and father didn’t know what was wrong. As 

I got older, my doctor explained to me that I wouldn’t be able to play football 

and other sports that could cause me to get hurt. I was sick and had to miss 

many days of school so that I could get better. It was difficult for me to catch 

up on all of the tests and quizzes that I missed. 

Sometimes I felt angry at myself because I was different and could not do the 

same things that other kids could do. I missed a lot of school. I had tutoring 

in the summer, but I did all my extra work so I could get better at reading 

and math. 

I always have to go to Boston Children’s Hospital, where I see Dr. Perkins; he 

tells me that I’m the same as other kids. That gives me courage to do different 

activities. I do motocross, and it gives me a lot of pride that I am a kid with 

cystic fibrosis racing in this sport. 

I love doing motocross. Every time I go to the track with my dad, I always have 

to take a puff of my inhaler before going onto the track. If I don’t take a puff 

before, I will run out of breath and will be tired and hot from my gear that I 

wear. Even though I put my body through a lot, I do it for fun, and I won’t let 

my CF control me. 

I have to live with CF for my whole life. It upsets me that there are some 

activities I can’t do, but the best thing is that my doctors are working toward a 

cure. When I get cured, that’s going to make me so happy, grateful, and joyful. 



70 71

RIELLY SILVA 

RYAN KAPLAN, TEACHER 


“Please help, I can’t stop.” 

Hello, my name is Rielly. I am just a regular kid living my life with a little 

something that makes some stuff hard. 

When I turned nine, I was getting dressed one day, and I kept putting clothes 

on and then taking them off. 

It had gone on for a while, even before I was nine. 

“I STILL TRY TO BE 

HAPPY AND DO WHAT I 

AM SUPPOSED TO DO.” 

At seven, I was very fidgety and kept touching stuff, but I was able to handle it. 

It was scary, but I built up the courage to tell my parents about it. 

We all decided to take me to the doctor. 

After going to the doctor, I was kind of scared of taking pills my whole life. 

We got pills, but it made it worse. 

I could not stop. I was sad when it was time to eat and I couldn’t. 

I was hungry, but I kept doing things I didn’t want to do. 

My parents noticed something was wrong and told my doctor. 

The pills did not help. They made the OCD (obsessive-compulsive disorder) 

worse. 

We went back to the doctor and got new pills. They helped me a lot. I was able 

to eat and put on clothes without struggling, and I was so happy, until recently. 

A few months ago, when I was twelve, I was walking up the stairs when 

I suddenly touched the side of the stairs and kept touching it. 

I asked for help, and my dad came and helped me up. 

We went to the doctor and got a bigger dosage. 

I now take one and a half pills every day, no matter what. 

I still try to be happy and do what I am supposed to do. 



72 73

HOLLY NEWELL 

LAURA BOSSE, TEACHER 


My name is Holly Newell, and I had a huge problem that I just couldn’t 

overcome. I wasn’t brave or strong enough. I had severe constipation, so I 

couldn’t go to the bathroom right. My parents took me to a bunch of hospitals, 

and what would make me feel better would be uncomfortable. That’s when 

I started to realize what courage is truly about! It’s not about being a fearless 

hero who takes down a red-scaled dragon to save a village. It’s not about 

diving deep into the ocean or a scary cave, even if you don’t want to. It’s not 

about a truth-or-dare or TikTok challenge. Courage is about doing what is 

right, even if you don’t want to. Courage can be as gentle as a kind word and 

as mighty as a tsunami. 

Ever since I was two, I have had constipation. It has impacted my life so much. 

It has made me tired and sluggish, crampy and embarrassed. Even though 

constipation is common, my case wasn’t. The doctors thought it was a phase, 

but it only got worse and worse. It stretched out my colon, damaging it. During 

the summer, I was rushed to the ER. I had horrible abdominal pain; it hurt so 

badly, I didn’t want to stand up. They thought it was appendicitis, but it was my 

constipation. They said this was the most stool they had ever seen in anyone 

under the age of twenty, but I was only eleven! They did a clean out, and they 

thought they got everything out, but they didn’t even get half out. We did clean 

outs at home, but nothing seemed to help. I missed a lot of school. I always 

tried my best to keep my grades high, even though I missed basically a whole 

month of school. 

“COURAGE CAN BE AS 

GENTLE AS A KIND 

WORD AND AS MIGHTY 

AS A TSUNAMI.” 

fine. I got to eat after I woke up, but I was a bit nervous. If I threw up, I would 

have to stay another night. I ate and got to go home! 

Courage is something that builds the world a shield and helps people get 

through things. Without courage, I would have been stuck like that. Courage 

can change people; it changed me. 

One day, things got really bad, so we called our doctor. She sent us to Boston 

Children’s Hospital for a full clean out and a potential answer to my problems. 

They had to stick a tube down my throat to put in medicine and give me IVs. 

I was scared and nervous, but I knew it was for the best. I had to push through 

the pain for a happy ending. I had to go on a clear diet because of the tube, 

meaning I could only eat jello, popsicles, and Italian ice, and I only could drink 

Ensure Clear, water, and apple juice. It was hard, but I knew it was for the best. 

After four long days, I was fully cleared out. The doctors had to put me under 

anesthesia to do some tests. I had never been under anesthesia before, so I was 

scared. The tests flew by fast, mostly because I was asleep. Even though I was 

scared, I realized that it wasn’t that bad and that I would get through it just 



74 75

PAIGE ALLAN 

LINDSAY WORSTELL AND ALEX FERNANDES, TEACHERS 


To me, courage means sticking it out, even when things are hard. It also means 

that, even when you have fear, you just have to push through it anyway. The 

most terrifying thing I have experienced is my dad dying from drugs, cancer, 

and an infection. I had courage because it’s hard to lose someone you love and 

continue moving forward. I was a daddy’s girl. In February 2023, my dad 

started having difficulty swallowing. In March, he was rushed to the hospital 

because his inability to swallow had worsened. 

I was trying to be strong. They did testing, and a mass was found in his throat. 

When they tried to insert a tube, the mass burst, and fluid leaked into his chest 

cavity, which meant they had to put in chest tubes. When I went to go see him, 

I was brave but still terrified. I didn’t know if he was going to live. 

While my dad was in the hospital, I saw him as much as possible. He was 

diagnosed with esophageal cancer. (I was shielded from this news at the time.) 

I kept thinking, Just keep pushing. I used all the courage I had. Then he 

developed an infection and lost so much weight. 

Months later, he was transferred to rehab. Things were finally looking up, and 

he was discharged. I was happy knowing he’d be home, and I thought that 

meant he was going to be fine. 

But he wasn’t. My mom finally told me the hard truth—he had cancer. 

“HAVING COURAGE 

WAS THE ONLY THING 

ON MY MIND. I HAD 

TO STICK IT OUT.” 

Then came May 28, 2023. My mom came into my room crying. “He’s gone,” 

she said. Those were the only words playing over and over in my head. I was 

told another truth, then, that had contributed to his death: he did drugs. I was 

devastated, but I stayed strong. 

During the funeral, I needed to be brave. I had major anxiety, but now, it’s 

better. My dad put lies and anxiety into my head. He stole from people. Drug 

dealers knew his address. I never thought he would do drugs. My instincts were 

telling me something was wrong, but I thought nothing of it. I had no idea what 

was going on, but I had to be brave. Now I know why he kept apologizing; he 

knew his lifestyle contributed to his death. I’m still trying to get used to living 

without him, and I’m still trying to get over fears I had. We know he’s in a 

better place and not suffering anymore. I love and miss my dad every day, but 

the question “Why?” will haunt me forever. 

A week later, he was back in the hospital. Having courage was the only thing 

on my mind. I had to stick it out. We went to see him, which was devastating. 

He kept saying, “I’m sorry for everything.” 

The doctors said there was nothing they could do, and he was put on hospice. 

He was going to die. I tried to remain courageous when my mom told me, 

“We have to go see him.” When we got to his room, I said goodbye. I felt his 

hand squeeze mine. I wanted to comfort him because he was afraid to die. I 

didn’t want the feeling of his touch to go away. I have no idea what to do when he 

dies. I will have no dad to grow up with or walk me down the aisle, I thought. He 

was going to miss out on my whole life. 



76 77

JAHMAL DESENCLOS 



Did you know that around 8 percent of U.S. kids have a speech disorder? 

Stuttering is one type of speech disorder that kids are most likely to go through 

from the ages of two to five. This creates constant problems with regular speech 

fluency. Learning to work on my speech impediment in elementary school was 

difficult, but as I got older and practiced more, I got better. Even though I have 

gotten better, I know that stuttering will always be a part of my life. It still 

affects me to this day, but only when I’m excited or angry. 

“I’M GLAD I LEARNED 

WAYS TO COPE WITH 

THIS SPEECH DISORDER, 

AND I’M GLAD I HAD 

THE COURAGE AND 

CONFIDENCE TO GO 

TO SPEECH THERAPY.” 

When I started kindergarten, I had to pick up a third language, English, which 

took me a while. The one thing my parents noticed when I spoke English was 

that I spoke with a stutter, and they didn’t think much of it until the stuttering 

kept getting worse and worse. One night, I ended up crying because my parents 

couldn’t understand what I was saying. My mom decided to take me to speech 

therapy, and I was really nervous. 

When I got to speech therapy, I met my teacher, Mrs. Amy. She gave me the 

tools to cope with stuttering. I would go there to practice verbs and pronounce 

words. As time passed, I realized that I needed to go to speech therapy, or else 

my stuttering wouldn’t go away. 

After doing speech therapy for a couple months, I ended up getting into a 

routine. Every weekend, I would go into my room, look into a mirror, and 

observe myself speaking. I would practice verbs and pronouncing words for ten 

minutes. I also read out loud to help with my nervousness. A couple of months 

later, I ended up going to speech therapy for the last time because I had done 

everything I could do. My stuttering had decreased, I could pronounce words 

very clearly, and most of all, I was confident! 

Although my story may not be as cool or thrilling as those of some others, I still 

showed courage, even if it was in the smallest of ways. Stuttering is a major 

speech disorder that I would like to say I conquered. No, you can never really 

conquer stuttering, but my hard work still feels like a major accomplishment! 

I’m glad I learned ways to cope with this speech disorder, and I’m glad I had 

the courage and confidence to go to speech therapy. 



78 79

JESSA NULSEN 

MARY BUDROSE, TEACHER 


Picture this: you’re possibly the most ordinary kid in the universe who has 

never had anything truly horrible happen to you. And then, everything 

changes, shocking you like a cold, sharp slap to the face. Finding out I had 

anxiety was like being hit with a giant metal club. Nevertheless, living with it 

was one thousand times worse. Next, imagine this: you have an invisible 

puppeteer who hovers over your head and pulls devilish strings to control the 

decisions you make and the way you act. All of those decisions are made by how 

scared you think you could get, and even feeling scared in the first place is 

enough to push you off the brink of your sanity. Well, this happened to me. 

The whole story started when my family and I set off on a road trip to Montana 

for seven scorching hot days, during what had to be the most ill-fated summer 

of my life. It was a long, rather agonizing trip to Montana from Massachusetts, 

my home state. That trip was pure scarlet sunburns and ice packs for sweaty 

brows. Despite the heat, we found ways to pass the time: movies, hotel pools, 

sketching, and most importantly, national parks. Everything was as standard 

and typical as it always was. My family and I were at the Theodore Roosevelt 

National Park on a scenic boardwalk, and they were behaving the same as 

usual. Of course, my brother was taking it all in, soaking up all the information 

he could; my dad was chattering nonstop about what a beautiful place we were 

in; and my mom was sharing a knowing look with me. Our day was like a 

beautiful china plate, with intricate designs painted on its sides and bright 

colors woven into each picture. The grin on my face was as firm as permanent 

ink. And then, everything shattered. I felt my belly curdle, and my insides 

turned upside down. The next thing I knew, I was being hoisted up onto my 

dad’s shoulders, and we were sprinting like track stars back to our hotel. Even 

though I was mortified, I tried my best to ignore the stares from passersby. The 

white spots dancing across my vision weren’t as bad as the tears blurring my 

eyesight and streaming down my cheeks. At last, I topped off my wonderful day 

by spending the rest of the night lying on my hotel’s bathroom floor, gagging. 

This shocking experience triggered my anxiety. 

During the rest of the trip, I stayed alert and hung back from the crowd, staying 

away from anything that made me feel uneasy. I missed out on wonderful 

hiking trips and national park outings. During the whole trip, I was worried 

about being kidnapped, getting hurt, or getting sick again. I ruined the trip for 

myself. At random times, I would get strange bursts of sudden emotion. I could 

“AFTER ALL THESE 

YEARS, I AM IN 

CONTROL OF MY OWN 

LIFE. THE INVISIBLE 

STRINGS ARE GONE, 

AND I’M FINALLY 

MYSELF AGAIN.” 

explode at any moment, whether it was over burnt toast at a continental 

breakfast or bugs hitting the window while our car sped down the highway. My 

mind was like a blur of pure chaos. Every day, my fists were clenched. I could 

burst into tears, I could scream at the top of my lungs if I felt like it; my anxiety 

made it harder for me to use reasonable emotions instead of being destructive. 

After the excursion, things only got worse. I avoided being in situations alone 

without my parents or my brother. Then, I started losing passion for the things 

I used to love, because I was too scared to do them. I would be shaking in the 

back seat on my way to a soccer game; I would be miserable most days at 

school. My anxiety was molding me into an unstable, sobbing mess. Soon, I 

started to resent myself for being so hard to control. I felt like a coward. It was 

almost like I couldn’t do anything on my own without getting a strange feeling 

that something drastic was going to happen. It was like I was witnessing my 

own funeral. My life used to feel like a fairytale, and now it was like an 

inferno—a dystopia. I avoided talking to people at my school because I felt like 

I might say something wrong and they might laugh at me. My parents knew 

something was wrong, and they decided to take me to a therapist. I hated the 

idea at first, picturing sitting in a hot, stuffy room with white walls and talking 

to a stranger about my feelings. In fact, what if she already hated me as much 

as I hated her? 

However, in real life, she was a magnanimous person I could easily relate to. 

She showed me that my fears weren’t real, and that I was only making things 

harder for myself. On top of that, she taught me some anxiety methods to use 

during more difficult situations. I didn’t use them, though. The techniques 

were supposed to be a magical antidote for my anxiety. Poof! and they would 

be gone, just like that. It wasn’t as easy as it sounded. I liked my therapist, but 

I still didn’t trust her completely. Somehow, I still thought of the methods 



80 81

cruelly, like they were a needle in a candy bar. Instead of trying the system, 

I sank deeper into my anxiety. Then, just as a toddler can’t resist a cookie, the 

pressure became relentless, and I felt ready to give the methods a try. I learned 

how to focus and use the strategies during situations when I would normally be 

scared. It wasn’t very helpful at first, but after a series of more problems, I 

realized that I had to put in more effort to recover, or I would feel like a wimp 

forever. After pepping myself up, I started recuperating faster. The techniques 

worked, and I became happier and more outgoing. I felt more comfortable 

conversing with people at school. 

There was only one thing stopping me from living my best life again. Bad 

memories of my anxiety brought on lots of embarrassment, and I was too afraid 

to tell anyone about it. I was worried that they would bully me for it and that 

I would lose my friends. Finally, after some contemplation, I opened up to a 

couple of close friends from school, people I knew I could trust. To my pleasant 

surprise, they regarded me respectfully. Now, whenever I feel anxious, they can 

calm me down. They supported me when I needed them most, and because of 

this, I became the happiest I’d been ever since I first started my bout of anxiety. 

Over time, I tried to completely lose my anxiety and become “normal” again. 

It felt like a disability, and I didn’t want it. Yet after a little bit, I realized that 

my anxiety was a part of me. It wasn’t some awful disease, and it didn’t make 

me weak; it made me stronger. Those thoughts helped me feel more natural, 

like life was finally going back to the way it used to be, and I could sink back 

into the comfort of my old customs and personality. Soon, I started to feel good 

about school. I didn’t feel nervous at soccer practice anymore. In the end, I was 

back to being the funny, talkative person I had been before. I felt like me. 

Overall, this experience taught me that even if you’re scared, you should push 

through it anyway. Being fearless is impossible, but being courageous is not. 

Using your courage is something any ordinary person can do. It’s okay to be 

scared. The impressive thing about being courageous is that you don’t crawl 

into a hole and die, or get so embarrassed you never speak again. Even if you’re 

so embarrassed that your cheeks are scarlet and inflamed and covered in hives, 

even if you’re shaking like a leaf and can’t make yourself stop, even if it feels like 

you’ve lost all your hope, you shouldn’t give up without a fight. That’s not 

realistic. You have to get over your fears somehow. Forget the odds. You have 

to be strong and persist, or you’ll never live life to the fullest. That’s exactly 

what I did. I was brave in the darkest of times, and I overcame my challenge. 

Although I still get anxious from time to time, I have gotten good enough at 

using my methods that now, I get to control it. This time, I get to be the 

puppeteer. After all these years, I am in control of my own life. The invisible 

strings are gone, and I’m finally myself again. 



82 83

LILIANA WARD 

ERIN HANNON-FOLEY AND LIZMARIE ARGUETA, TEACHERS 


“Beep… Beep… Beep…” The heart monitor beeped its depressing tune all day 

and all night. My day, my choice, and I hoped it would better my life. What I 

would have never guessed in those moments was that my choice would bring 

the biggest struggle but would also help shine light my way. 

It was the summer of 2020, and I wasn’t doing well. I was struggling, and life 

was rough, so I ended up talking to my mom and told her how I was concerned 

about how I was doing. My mom had been worried about me, too. We ended 

up calling the Boston Emergency Services Team, and I ended up going to the 

hospital and staying there for two weeks. 

The room was cold, and the blankets were thin, but it didn’t matter to me 

much. I had some supports. We played a lot of the game Life, we made these 

cool decorations, we had sing-alongs to the Hamilton soundtrack, and I even 

learned how to write my name in Japanese! 

One morning, I woke up and was escorted to an ambulance. I talked with the 

ambulance operators and explained to them this wasn’t my first time riding in 

an ambulance. I ended up at another hospital and was checked into CBAT 

(community-based acute treatment). I was put in my room to unpack, but I 

then realized my month of trauma and torture was about to begin. 

In CBAT, I was not allowed to see my family at all. I was either in my room, 

or in one of the activities that didn’t help with the loneliness and isolation 

I felt, stuck in the same few rooms for an entire month with nobody I knew 

to help cheer me up. 

Some of the kids were mean, but I had one friend. We would roleplay together 

and do little mini scenes of our favorite movie at the time, Descendants 3. My 

new friend and I would laugh together when we both would get disgusted by 

the kissing scenes. We’d watch the movie every day, until something happened. 

My only friend there, the only one not mean to me, was discharged from the 

hospital. I was left alone, again. Happy for her, but sad for me. 

Days flew by, which turned into weeks. I remember one day, we went outside to 

the turf—not even real nature was present in these bitter areas. I sat down and 

started crying. A few minutes later, a staff member walked up to me. I thought 

“I WAS NOT ASHAMED 

TO ASK FOR HELP 

WITH MY MENTAL 

HEALTH, AND I WAS 

NOT ASHAMED TO 

GET HELP FOR MY 

SAFETY OR NEEDS.” 

that the staff member could help me comfort myself and feel better, but her 

answer was not what I expected. “What’s wrong?” she asked with an almost 

emotionless face. 

“I’m gonna let down my brother! I’m supposed to be the big sister and be there 

for him! I’m supposed to be the one to help protect him. But I’m here, and he’s 

miles away…” 

Her confusing expressions then turned to recognizable anger. She had hatred 

burning from her eyes for no reason at all. “You should be ashamed of yourself! 

Yep, you’ve already let down your brother. How horrible could you be?” she 

yelled recklessly at me. I started crying even worse than before, and she just 

had the urge to ask why I was now crying a river, instead of the small drizzle 

I had before. 

I remember I missed home so much that I moved my mattress onto the cold, 

dusty tile floor, just because I just wanted a change of scenery from where I 

slept. I felt isolated. It was one of those moments where you feel alone even 

though there are hundreds of people nearby, except that moment lasted longer 

than a few minutes, more than a few hours, more than a few days, almost more 

than a month. 

One day, I was outside making fairy houses and scraping the moss off of trees 

with some other kids, when a doctor said I was being let out, and all that was 

left to do was pack. I had to wait a few days for bloodwork results to make sure 

everything was all right, then I’d finally be free from the cage. I was so excited, 

my heart finally started beating regularly with hope. And when the day arrived, 

I remember the exact gooey and chewy chocolate chip pancakes I had that 

morning before leaving the cage for good. I met my third grade teacher on 



84 85

Zoom as I was leaving the hospital. From the moment I met her on Zoom, 

I knew she was going to be one of the best teachers ever. (And I was right!) 

When I got home, I felt so good, and my sore heart finally started to heal. I 

finally had a comfortable bed, I finally was able to swing on my swing set and 

listen to music, and with that, I got relief from those terrible moments. I felt 

free, even better than before. I remember holding a phone for the first time in 

a month, and it felt so heavy and big. I felt the happiest I had ever been that 

day, when I was freed from what felt like a cage that I would never be able to 

leave. I thought I’d never see my family again, or my friends from school, who 

I missed. I hoped their lives had been going better than mine had been, since 

it was the start of the pandemic. When I got home, my mom was in tears. 

“I didn’t know if my baby was gonna be okay! I missed you, one month 

without my baby was devastating,” my mom cried to me. I missed my mom 

and my brother so much. I had felt so alone because I ended up having 

nobody while I was there. 

Life moved on: third grade, fourth grade, fifth grade, and now sixth grade. 

I finally feel happy, my heart no longer hurts, and my eyes have been given 

back their glow. I feel free, I can move around, and I’m not restricted to little 

interaction. I feel happy and free, all because I know I won’t go back to that 

horrible place, and I know I am strong enough to push through those moments. 

I now have friends and amazing teachers. I’m trying my hardest in school, 

and things have gone well. 

Now that I look back on it, those problems may have caused distress in the 

moment, but they opened up doors for me, doors with light beaming from 

them. Doors with hope instead of despair. I’m grateful that I can now see the 

positives that came from the negatives of my troubles. The best outcome of this 

was that I’m now social enough to make friends, and even a few best friends. 

Before the troubles, I only had four friends, but now, I have seven! I made a lot 

of those friends in third grade, too, which means I was strong enough to go on 

even right after the incident. 

My definition of courage is being able to persevere even when you feel like 

you’re incapable of going on. I showed courage by persevering even when times 

were the roughest they’d ever been for me, and ending up in the place I am 

today despite my struggles in life. I’ve shown courage throughout the past four 

years, since the first time I went to that hospital, and even now, dealing with life 

and what I’ve been through. The lesson I learned is that the process of courage 

isn’t always blue skies, but it doesn’t mean it’ll always be gray skies. I was not 

ashamed to ask for help with my mental health, and I was not ashamed to get 

help for my safety or needs. If you ever need help, then don’t be scared or 

ashamed to ask. You should always do what’s best for you. 



86 87

AYDEN AUDETTE 

CATHERINE CASEY-PAULL, TEACHER 


I was born in May 2012. A beautiful baby boy. I got diagnosed with autism. 

From every day forward, I had to fight a battle to live life normally. It was 

rough, and I had a hard time learning. I couldn’t talk until I was six. 

I turned three, and my mom and dad stopped seeing each other, and my new 

way of life was born, just my mom and me. My mother and I live well without 

my dad. We still stand strong, even though there is no male figure. There was a 

missing piece of the puzzle, but we figured out what the picture was. But then, 

around 2018 to 2019, a tragedy happened that would affect my life to this day. 

I was laying in my bed when my mom woke me up in a hurry. I heard a loud 

beeping noise, then I realized it was my fire alarm going off. We tried to run out 

of the house quickly, but before we got to the door, I saw flames engulf the 

corner of the kitchen. They engulfed the stove and were about six feet tall. 

“EVEN THOUGH THERE 

ARE DIFFICULTIES 

IN LIFE, THERE ARE 

BRIGHT MOMENTS, 

TOO, WHICH CAN 

MAKE THOSE DARK 

ONES BE LIT UP.” 

Even though there are difficulties in life, there are bright moments, too, which 

can make those dark ones be lit up. Be the light bulb and light up the dark scary 

rooms that just need some light. Be the stars that light up the sky. Be the moon 

in the dark night sky. You can light up the world to be a better place. 

After the house fire, I got diagnosed with depression, related to the trauma, 

I think. It ruined my childhood by making me sad all day, almost every day. But 

I think the house fire also changed my life for the better, because I’m now in a 

better home. Even though everything that happened to me was bad, that 

doesn’t mean my current outcome is bad. Bad events can shape who we are, 

and that happened to me. 

Now, I’m better and stronger. That day, I learned that unpleasant events don’t 

always have terrible outcomes. I have overcome these events and made them 

into opportunities, learning experiences, and most importantly, parts of who 

I am. Those nasty events have made me stronger and able to overcome most 

events that will happen to me in future. Now, I am a smart student and a 

person who has hope and will for the future and wants to be successful. 

Sometimes, you get blue experiences but add some yellow and make them 

green. That yellow can be friends, family, or even just you. You have the 

possibility to make people’s days even better. That can be as simple as opening 

a door for someone, or being a police officer, firefighter, or paramedic, saving 

lives. Even though you may be a star one day and a groundhog another, 

even though you’re not a star, you’re celebrated once a year. Be proud you’re 

a groundhog. 



88 89

JENNIFER BERAS ARIAS 



Fifteen years ago, my father got deported to the Dominican Republic. It was 

hard on my mom, especially since she was in the U.S. by herself and had to 

raise twins. My mom was able to get some help from other family members for 

my brother and me. She had to work two jobs to earn money to provide for 

me and my siblings, and she had to find an immigration lawyer who could 

work on my dad’s case. 

All of this was hard on my family, and it was hard for me to deal with. My 

father hasn’t been able to come to the U.S. since I was born. Still, my family 

and I have always had hope that he will soon be able to come here, instead of 

us having to go to Santo Domingo or talk to him on the phone. It has been 

hard for me to be away from him, since I have had to go ten months without 

being able to see my dad. 

“I GET INSPIRATION 

FROM MY MOM, WHO 

IS ALWAYS SHOWING 

COURAGE EVERY 

SINGLE DAY, BECAUSE 

SHE NEVER GIVES 

UP THE HOPE THAT 

MY FAMILY WILL 

FINALLY BE ABLE TO BE 

TOGETHER ONE DAY.” 

In 2021, I hit a really low point in my life. My moods began to change, and 

sometimes I was upset and did not want to talk to anyone. Nevertheless, I kept 

reminding myself that I should focus on the good instead of the bad. I 

continued to push myself to keep going forward and to never give up. I had to 

not let it get in the way of my education. I always thought about my dad, and 

thinking about him motivated me. 

However, as much as I try to stay positive, I still feel empty about only having 

one parent at home to greet me whenever I arrive from school. I always worry 

about my dad, since he is away from his wife and children. But I have to show 

courage and not let being away from my father stop me. 

At times it is really hard, but it slowly gets better. I get inspiration from my 

mom, who is always showing courage every single day, because she never gives 

up the hope that my family will finally be able to be together one day. If you 

are in a difficult situation, just remind yourself to keep going and focus on the 

positive. Things might get worse before they get better. Turn a negative 

situation into a positive situation. 



90 91

MIA CONNELLY 

SARA DEOREO, TEACHER 


Before I was born, my mom, my dad, and my grandparents went to court. 

They had to go because my parents had a bad drinking problem, did lots of 

drugs, and fought with each other a lot. The judge didn’t think that my parents 

would care for me, so when I was born, my grandparents would have full 

custody of me. 

Later on, my sister had a birthday that was coming up on New Year’s, and we 

made a plan to go stay with my dad at a hotel for the night. In those moments, 

I actually don’t really know what happened. But my mom is bipolar, and my 

mom hit Dad, and they got into a gigantic fight. My mom called the cops on 

him, but he did not get arrested, and he almost did not go with us. My sister 

and I called my mom. When she answered, she screamed at us so loudly, like 

she was crazy, and then hung up. We started bawling our eyes out and crying 

so hard. It was the worst feeling ever. 

After my sister and I tried calling our mom back many times, she finally 

answered. My sister said to my mom that she was ruining her birthday by 

physically abusing my dad. Then my mom swore and cursed at us, and it 

sounded like my mom slammed her phone against something and broke her 

phone into pieces. She screamed at the top of her lungs that we were horrible 

daughters, she hated us, and she didn’t care about my sister’s birthday. The 

worst feeling ever. After that, she finally called us back and said she was very, 

very sorry. At first, I didn’t accept her apology. 

My parents fight a lot. My dad lives with my mom in her apartment, and he 

doesn’t like to stay there because he sometimes gets scared of my mom. He is 

also scared that he might have to live on the streets and call the cops on my 

mom if she keeps doing what she’s doing. At first, I really didn’t have enough 

courage to accept that my parents had problems, and I think that they 

sometimes don’t love me. I sometimes ask myself, Why can’t I have normal 

parents? because it makes me so sad to think about it. Almost everyone I know 

lives with their parents, not their grandparents. 

“...I SHOWED THEM 

I HAD COURAGE 

TO FINALLY ACCEPT 

THEIR APOLOGY.” 

My dad went to jail many times, and I don’t know if I should be infuriated or 

disappointed. He says he is sorry a lot to try to make me feel better. I didn’t 

accept his apologies at first, either. My grandparents always tell them to get 

some help. 

My sister and I tried our best to help them, and we all finally convinced them 

to move into a sober living house. My dad promised me that he would get 

better and be the best he could be. They went into the sober living house for 

a long time. Since my dad had finally gotten better and was finally out of jail, 

we decided that we were going to stay at a hotel in Lowell for New Year’s to 

celebrate my sister’s birthday. We stayed in a really fancy hotel, ate lots of 

snacks, and brought our VR headset with us so he could play on it. 

My dad would text me telling me how much he missed me and loved me every 

day after that hotel night, and my mom has gotten better too. After that night 

at the hotel with my sister and my dad, my dad showed me he had the courage 

to get better, and my mom showed me she had the courage to get better, so I 

showed them I had courage to finally accept their apology. 

I still sometimes can’t accept the fact that they still have some problems, and if 

they do things like doing drugs too much and drinking too much alcohol, soon 

enough, they could pass away. It makes me so sad to think about that. Since my 

parents cause trouble, they have done some stuff to cause them to go to jail. 



92 93

SELENA ST. PIERRE-OLIVEIRA 

SABINA KOZAK, TEACHER 

Our Sisters’ School, New Bedford, MA 

Courage is in everyone, whether they know it or not. To me, courage is being 

brave and also being an upstander to others. It means facing hard things. 

Courage can be big or small. Even though you’re scared, you can still be 

courageous. I’ve been courageous multiple times in my life because I’ve had 

to overcome many obstacles. Some obstacles were in my past, and some I am 

still facing today. 

My dad was very courageous. Before my siblings were born, he built the house 

my eight siblings and I grew up in so we wouldn’t have to live on the streets. 

One time, my dad had to go to the hospital even though he didn’t want to, but 

he knew it was the right thing to do, so he went to get better. My dad had a nail 

in his foot, but that didn’t stop him from continuing to build our house. My dad 

was a very brave, strong, and powerful man. I wish I could have said that to 

him before he died. 

When I was six years old, my three younger siblings moved to different houses 

because they got taken into foster care. It was sad for me because I have been 

with them since they were born. I was now the youngest sibling. It was sad for 

everyone in my family because we didn’t see my little brothers and sister often. 

When I was nine, my dad got very sick, and I was scared that something might 

happen to him. He couldn’t get out of bed, so I helped him if he needed 

anything. Eventually, he had to go to the hospital. After three or four weeks, 

the hospital called my mom and told her that the doctors couldn’t help my dad 

anymore, and that he had died. When my mom came out of her bedroom and 

shared the bad news, the whole family was sad. I went to my room and went to 

sleep so I could calm down. After he died, I felt sad. We had to accept life 

without him. 

“DURING ALL OF THESE 

MOMENTS, I HAVE 

BEEN COURAGEOUS, 

AND I HAVE NEVER 

GIVEN UP.” 

At first, we were really scared. I wanted to go home. I didn’t know what was 

happening. Even though things were hard and scary, I remained brave. Every 

day, I tried hard and tried to do well in school. 

In October, my foster mom told my sister and me that we were switching 

schools. It was hard for me to imagine moving to a new school, because I had 

gone to my old school my whole life. I knew I would miss my friends and my 

teachers there. It was another change that I did not have control over. Even 

though I was scared, I accepted this and tried to be open-minded about the 

new experience. Now, I feel good about this decision. I like my school. 

In my life, I have faced loss, death, challenges, foster care, moving homes, 

and switching schools. During all of these moments, I have been courageous, 

and I have never given up. I have tried to emphasize the positive and be 

happy, even when it is hard. 

When I was ten, I got some more sad news. I was at school and I had to go 

downstairs to the office. That’s when I was told that I was going into foster care. 

The social workers told me they were taking me, my two older sisters, and my 

brother, too. After they talked to me, we left to go to my foster home. At first, I 

was separated from my brother. Eventually, I was placed in a foster home with 

my older sister and brother, and our other sister went to live at a different home. 



94 95

DORINE ALFRED 

ALICIA REINES-LEO, TEACHER 


The first time I showed courage was when I suffered bullying in my old school. 

I was six years old when I went to school. I met Guilherme. He has been my 

best friend until today, but many of my classmates hated me, and I didn’t know 

why. That didn’t matter to me because I was more interested in my studies. 

My classmates got involved with me just because I was the only one who was 

brown and they were white. Also I was, and I’m still, good at sports and in 

other subjects. What they called me was an ugly girl, a filthy unfortunate, a 

gorilla, swear words, and many other things that I disliked. Sometimes I even 

cried because I felt bad and humiliated. 

I felt hated by everyone, and for a month, I didn’t go to school. My classmates 

made me feel uncomfortable because I have a sensitive heart, just like my 

mother. My friend Guilherme was angry with me because I had left him alone, 

but I felt I could not go to school, because they continued making fun of me. 

Of course, I eventually had to return to school, but I was not happy about it. 

“ALWAYS REMEMBER 

THAT WE ARE OF THE 

SAME FLESH, WITH 

THE SAME HEART.” 

Now that I have shown my courage, I feel I’m ready for all kinds of problems. 

If you need advice, or maybe if you need anything, look for me. 

I arrived in Year Five at school. As I was older, I didn’t let them make fun of 

me. I had courage and told them to stop being racist and to stop making fun 

of people. I told them to stop hating a person “just because you think the person 

is better than you.” As I explained, “In truth, no one is better than anyone. 

Everyone is good at something like me. I am good at many things because 

I make an effort. I’ve never done anything to you. Imagine if you were in my 

place. How would you feel?” 

I don’t regret confronting my classmates. I’m very proud of myself and very 

grateful to my parents for putting me in this world. You should treat people well 

so that you will have a peaceful life. You will see that the way you see the world 

is not the same. Try to be kinder and gentler in a peaceful way. It doesn’t matter 

if the person has body or brain difficulties. Always remember that we are of the 

same flesh, with the same heart. It doesn’t matter if you are short, tall, fat, or 

skinny. What matters is that everyone is happy the way they are, and everyone 

is pleased with the way that they are. Race does not matter, nor does the 

language we speak. We are all equal, we are all brothers, and we are one 

person. I love myself. They stopped making fun of me, and I got what I wanted: 

to have a peaceful and calm life without problems from anyone. 



96 97

ILYAS HENSHAW 

RUHEENA RAZVI, TEACHER 

Homeschool, Mansfield, MA 

The first time I knew something was wrong was when I threw up after a 

milkshake. Nothing seemed unusual at the time, until a few days later, I threw 

up again after eating some mac and cheese. I started to have a weird feeling 

in my chest, like a dumbbell was resting on me. And I was very hungry. 

My stomach felt as empty as the toilet paper store shelves during COVID. 

My mom decided to take me to the doctor. 

A few months later, we ended up in Dr. I’s office at Newton-Wellesley Hospital. 

Dr. I is a gastroenterologist, which means she specializes in the digestive 

system. She asked me a bunch of questions, which I don’t think I answered 

very well, and then mentioned something to my mom called an endoscopy. 

She explained that she would put a small camera down my throat to see inside 

my esophagus because she thought I might have reflux. I didn’t know what any 

of those words meant, and I could feel the fear coming up like the reflux I had 

recently experienced. 

The endoscopy was scheduled for May 2022. The day of the procedure, I was 

very scared. I didn’t know what was going to happen. I only knew that I was 

going to have anesthesia and was going to have a camera shoved down my 

throat. We arrived at Mass General Hospital early in the morning, and I was 

even more worried because the endoscopy was about to happen. I changed into 

a gown, had an IV put into my arm, and waited. Even though I felt as nervous 

as a student before a big test, I tried to be brave. Soon, they rolled me into the 

procedure room. I was still scared, but my mom held my hand, and one of the 

nurses told me jokes. I felt better, and then the warmth of the anesthesia ran 

through my veins, and I was asleep. In what felt like a short time, I was awake, 

and the procedure was over. 

“THIS WHOLE 

EXPERIENCE MADE 

ME REALIZE THAT 

I AM BRAVER THAN 

I THOUGHT.” 

Since I couldn’t walk that well because of the effects of the anesthesia, my 

mom wheeled me out of the hospital in a wheelchair. Then, four months later, 

I went to Newton-Wellesley Hospital for my barium swallow. After the barium 

swallow, Dr. I referred us to a pediatric cardiologist because they had found an 

artery from my heart going the wrong way. He ordered a CT scan of my 

heart, and then we met with him. I was feeling overwhelmed. There was so 

much stuff happening. It was like when I visited New York City and felt 

engulfed by people. Thankfully, Dr. B wasn’t concerned and said he would 

follow up with us if necessary. Ever since then, I haven’t had any symptoms. 

This whole experience made me realize that I am braver than I thought. 

The first thing that I saw when I woke up was my mom. I felt drowsy and 

couldn’t really make sense of what was going on around me. One thing I do 

remember is the delicious watermelon popsicle the nurse gave me. I was still in 

my drowsy state when Dr. I came to give the results to my mom. She told my 

mom that my esophagus was inflamed, possibly because of allergies, but we 

should get a barium swallow to fully rule out the possibility of reflux. The 

barium swallow was an x-ray test where I would have to swallow a chalk-like 

liquid while they took an x-ray of my esophagus. Dr. I assured me it would be 

easy, but I wasn’t so sure. 



98 99

ALI BARRIE 

MATTHEW BREWER, TEACHER 

Covenant Preparatory School, Hartford, CT 

There were nearly one hundred pairs of eyes looking straight at my face. Have 

you ever overcome fear by using courage? I have. It was a sunny day in May 

2022. I had already submitted my essay about cultural diversity to the 

Hartford Creative Contest. I won a prize! At first, I was ecstatic, but when 

I was dropped off at the Mark Twain House, the fear overtook me. I was going 

to read a part of my essay to a full crowd! I was sweating on the inside. I was 

scared to read my speech to the crowd, but then I developed the courage from 

inspirational people to read it with confidence. I believe that courage doesn’t 

exist without fear. 

This all started when I decided to write an essay about cultural diversity for the 

Hartford Creative Contest. I was very eager to get a good result, so I tried my 

very best. It wasn’t until the month of May that I received my results. When we 

arrived, my father dropped me, my mother, and my little brother off at the 

Mark Twain House. As I entered, I was immediately given great news! Two of 

my friends, Reik and Lincoln, also won prizes! We entered the room, sat down, 

and listened until it was our turn. I went up and read part of my award-winning 

speech to the crowd. Although I showed some fear, I overcame it and read my 

essay about different cultures in front of everyone! 

“I BUILT UP THE 

COURAGE TO DENY 

SELF-DOUBT.” 

That is why I do not think showing courage is possible without fear. A proverb 

says, “Fear and courage are brothers.” You and I cannot name a time when 

we showed something other than courage to overcome fear. From this event, 

I learned that courage is very important to me because it will help me crush 

every single one of my fears. You can think of fear as the little brother and 

courage as the older brother. The older brother is aiding the younger brother. 

During that event, I had mixed emotions. At one point, I was really doubtful 

because I feared public speaking. I was also nervous about the crowd’s 

reaction. The only way to overcome my fear of public speaking was by 

showing courage, and I took courage from my teachers. During the event, 

I thought that there may have been some people in the crowd showing signs 

of disapproval. I had many thoughts of doubting myself, too. I built up the 

courage to deny self-doubt. I gained courage by thinking of all the people who 

are inspirational to me, like my brother and teachers. I also thought of 

courageous book characters, like Maniac Magee. Nelson Mandela once said, 

“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. 

The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that 

fear.” That quote is exactly how I felt. I thought about inspirational people, 

and that helped me conquer my fear with courage. After I finished reading 

my speech, the crowd gave me a standing ovation. 



100 101

LEAH MEDINA 



There are times when life throws you down so hard, it hurts to get back up. 

I know, because I have experienced it. 

At first, my life was pretty normal. I mean, I was just a kid, and my parents 

made a normal and sustainable amount of money. But back then, I was the 

only child. Things were different. Very different. As I grew older, I was no 

longer the only child, and I got less and less attention. It was hard to accept. 

I mean, I was a big sister now. I had new things to take care of and more 

responsibilities. 

A few years have passed, and now I have three siblings. Sometimes it’s hard to 

deal with them all. I have to watch them, change their diapers, help them with 

things they can’t do, and even sometimes cook for them. This is a lot of 

responsibility. I take on a lot of jobs for my siblings. It’s hard because I have 

always been the oldest. I’ve never had a sibling watch over me and help me out. 

It’s hard to show love that you’ve never experienced or received. Sometimes, 

I feel like I’m doing a bad job. I’m always scared I’m going to let them down. 

I sometimes feel as if I already have. 

“SO, FOR ME, COURAGE 

IS NOT ABOUT WHAT 

HAPPENED IN THE 

PAST. IT’S ABOUT 

WHAT’S COMING IN 

THE FUTURE.” 

I started to get extremely mad—but not at her. At myself. I knew that what I did 

was horrible. I could never forgive myself for it. 

“No! It’s not okay!” I yelled. 

That all happened almost two years ago. I’m still mad at myself for what 

happened. But I’ve learned that that’s all in the past. What’s more important is 

the future. It took a lot of courage to forgive myself for what happened that day. 

So, for me, courage is not about what happened in the past. It’s about what’s 

coming in the future. 

One day, in summer 2022, I was playing at the waterpark at Six Flags. It was 

summer vacation, and I was playing with my family, but then my mom told me 

to watch my four-year-old little sister. I thought to myself, No big deal, I’ll just 

watch her from over here! This was probably one of the worst ideas of my life. 

I was just playing around for a while, then it hit me. I realized that I hadn’t 

looked at her in a while. As soon as I turned my head, she wasn’t there. 

I was terrified, so I jumped into the water and started to look for her. She was 

completely out of my sight and nowhere to be found. I started to cry and blame 

myself. But then I saw a hand sticking out of the water that looked just like hers! 

I ran as fast as I could and pulled her out. I used all my force to bring her up to 

the surface. Water splattered all over the deck. She gasped for air as I pulled her 

close and gave her a hug. 

“I’m so sorry, I will never let you out of my sight again!” I said as tears filled 

my eyes. 

“It’s okay,” she said, out of breath. 



102 103

SAMYIA HORSLEY 

ERIN HANNON-FOLEY AND LIZMARIE ARGUETA, TEACHERS 


“The girls may have to be separated if we do not find someone to take both of 

them,” said the judge. My sister and I hugged each other and cried. We were in 

court, a lot had happened, and now, we could possibly be separated because of 

someone else’s actions. The “someone else” was my mom. She was neglectful, 

but my sister and I showed courage. 

It was a regular day after school, and my mom didn’t come to pick up my sister 

and me at the bus stop. To get home, my sister and I had to cross a very large 

and busy road. It was not safe at all. My big sister and I were only eight and six 

at this time, and we were very scared. 

When we finally got home and opened the door, we looked down the hallway 

and saw her. My mom. She had passed out on the floor. This was not the first 

time. Unfortunately, my mom had an addiction to alcohol. 

Later that day, Child Protective Services rang our doorbell, but we knew this 

was going to happen, because it was Wednesday. Sometimes CPS came on 

random days, but they never missed a Wednesday. CPS had already visited us 

because there had been times when we did not have food, or when we told the 

teachers at our school what was going on at home. 

My sister looked out the window. We knew if we opened the door, we would get 

taken away, because my mom was drunk on the floor. CPS had a record of our 

situation. Sometimes, we would not have any food in the house, or we would 

inform our teachers about the many parties held by Mom during the week. At 

times, we would find strangers passed out on the floor because she would go out 

or throw parties while my sister and I were asleep. I knew the parties were 

happening because there was a lot of banging and yelling or slamming doors, 

but the people never came to me and my sister’s room. 

“Samyia, go in the room,” my sister whispered, so I did as she said. A couple of 

minutes later, my sister came into the room with me and called my dad. 

My dad came in less than five minutes and said, “Hurry, pack your things, 

it’s gonna be okay.” 

“COURAGE MEANS 

TO NOT BE AFRAID 

TO SPEAK UP WHEN 

YOU FEEL UNSAFE OR 

AFRAID, AND TO TELL 

A TRUSTED PERSON.” 

had a good relationship with the CPS worker. She made us feel comfortable 

and made me feel safe. She would also tell us things like, “I’m here for you,” 

or, “You can tell me anything,” or, “I’ll follow girl code.” The girl code is 

simple: at times, my mom would tell us not to tell anyone when something 

happened, but I knew we needed to tell the case worker. 

Going back to that day, when we were done packing, my mom tried to prevent 

us from going with our dad, but we ended up with our dad and stayed at his 

place. My mom, my dad, my sister, and I went to court, and that’s when they 

put me and my sister in a room away from our parents. 

The trial started, and we did not know what was going to happen. “The girls 

may have to be separated if we do not find someone to take both of them,” said 

the judge. We were terrified of being separated into different homes, just like 

our other siblings. By the end of the case, my dad received full custody, and my 

sister and I were overjoyed! Luckily, my sister and I have been living with my 

dad for the past six years, and we are happy, safe, and free. 

I know what my mom did was wrong and bad, but I do forgive her. In current 

times, we still see our mom, and she’s doing better, but unfortunately, she is still 

drinking. Alcoholism is a disease and an addiction that causes families to break 

apart. I do love her and just want her to get better in life and to forgive herself 

for what she has done. This event forever changed my sister’s and my life for the 

better. Courage means to not be afraid to speak up when you feel unsafe or 

afraid, and to tell a trusted person. 

When my mom woke up, we were packing our things, and my mom asked, 

“Where are y’all going?” She saw my dad and knew that CPS had visited. We 



104 105

SERENA HARU ROSENTHAL 

SCOTT LARIVEE, TEACHER 


I think that in order to show courage, you need to have fear in the first place. 

You have to be scared of whatever you’re going through, so that you can show 

how brave you can be. It’s when it feels like your life itself is crumbling apart 

and you just keep persevering through it. Courage isn’t only shown by a 

singular person in their own private story; it can be about the person having 

someone who perseveres with them, someone who stays by their side even when 

they want to give up. Someone who goes through all of the hardships, fear, and 

pain alongside a person they cherish, care for, and love with all of their heart. 

For me, I feel as though I have been going through my mom’s cancer alongside 

her. I feel like it’s us against our shared struggles. 

I can’t quite remember what day it all started. It was as if my entire life just 

started falling apart, pieces of bad news storming towards me one by one. I 

remember when I first thought of the possibility of my mom being in danger. 

It was in July of 2023, at my summer camp. It feels as if it were only yesterday 

when she sat me down during breakfast, sharing the worst news of my life. 

Let me give you some context. Before this all started, we already knew that my 

mom had this huge bump in her armpit, and later on, we were told it was 

actually a cyst. This news was bad enough as it was. But little did I know, that 

was just the beginning. 

I can still hear her exact words, hissing in my ears: “My bump might not be a 

cyst...” I felt my heart drop. “There’s a possibility of it being a cancerous tumor, 

Haru...” From that moment on, I felt like my whole world was just crumbling, 

as if I was falling into a deep pit of disappearance and darkness. Tears slowly 

trickled down my face as my vision became blurry. I could see a hint of guilt on 

her face and quickly wiped my tears away. We hugged, and from that moment 

on, I promised myself that I would stay strong, even when I was terrified of 

what might happen. I would have to find courage inside of my cloud of fear, 

even if all I wanted to do was crawl into a ball and never leave my room. 

A few weeks later, my family and I were in Japan, and we still hadn’t found out 

if my mom’s cyst was indeed cancerous—or at least, that’s what I thought. But 

as time sped by, I started noticing several different suspicious things going on, 

such as my parents and sister talking to each other in private and my mom 

getting a bunch of phone calls. It had made my trip to my mom’s hometown 

“COURAGE CAN 

BE SHOWN BY THE 

PERSON WHO’S 

GOING THROUGH 

SOMETHING, BUT 

ALSO BY THE PERSON 

WHO IS PERSEVERING 

ALONGSIDE THEM.” 

more morbid, and it was making the mood of my summer lower and lower. 

Then, I walked into my parents’ room, and my mom was calling one of her 

colleagues. I only had to hear a few words before I caught onto what was going 

on, what secret my family was keeping. My throat got dry as I heard her 

whisper, “How do I tell Haru?” She then looked at me and sighed as she told 

me to sit down on the bed next to her. She proceeded to tell me the one thing 

I didn’t want to hear: “I have breast cancer.” Those words changed my life 

forever. Things I found cheerful began to darken, and everything seemed as 

though it were in black and white. But I had to persevere. I had to show her 

that I could be strong. For her, for my family, for everyone. The bad news 

changed practically everything, particularly how I was going to live for the 

rest of my life. 

After that summer, my life did change, terribly. Whenever someone found out 

about my family’s situation, they would either only be nice to me because of it, 

or even worse, bring it up during times that it wasn’t relevant. I felt like the 

realness of what was going on wasn’t occurring to me, as if I couldn’t accept 

how much I was going through. I realized eventually that I was focusing on my 

mom so much that I had been denying how I was truly feeling myself. Or at 

least, that’s what my therapist told me: that it was right to be worried and 

stressed about my mom, but also right to consider how it was affecting my life 

as a sixth grader. Constant loneliness shadowed my entire household, as I 

usually ate alone, walked alone, and did most things by myself. But I always 

kept a smile on my face and a positive attitude, no matter what. Even if this new 

way of living made it so that I couldn’t do what other kids my age could, even 

if it meant not being able to tell someone my own troubles or how I felt, and 

especially if it meant that I would have to sacrifice everything I had in order to 

care for my mom, persevering through everything. During the entire time, I 

wasn’t the only one in my family who was showing courage. I wasn’t the only 



106 107

one who was persevering through everything no matter how terrified we all 

were about what might happen in the future, and I definitely wasn’t the only 

one who was proud of my mom whenever she came back from her infusions on 

Thursdays, even if she still had a long way to go. But nevertheless, I was the 

youngest, who still did as much as her father did. 

During this entire journey, I have stayed, and will continue to always stay, by 

Mom’s side, without a single hint of hesitation. This experience has proven to 

me that, in order to show courage, you must have fear or worry to join your 

bravery. I have learned how to be a reliable person and to stick with my loved 

ones, even when I’m tempted to be lazy or go out with friends. Everyone in my 

family has shown so much courage, especially my mother. We have all 

persevered through rough times, no matter how hard it has gotten. Today, I am 

still comforting my mom, and she is making extraordinary progress. She is 

healing up amazingly and has been so brave. Courage can be shown by the 

person who’s going through something, but also by the person who is 

persevering alongside them. I am proud of both myself and my mom, and I 

hope for us to continue fighting this together, even if the whole world seems 

to be against us. 



108 109

AUDREY DYCHIUCHAY 

RONALD RODRIGUEZ, TEACHER 

John A. Otis Elementary School, National City, CA 

“Would you want to run for treasurer?” my teacher asked as she pulled me 

aside. Of course, at that time, I was new to the school in fourth grade, and my 

courage had not developed that much yet. But for some strange reason, I felt 

this urge to try something new. Trying something new was usually just trying 

a new food, but I was running for treasurer. 

I hesitated for a second, but then I said, “Yes. I would love to run for treasurer!” 

I was surprised I took up an offer that big! 

“THOUGH I DIDN’T 

WIN THAT YEAR, THE 

EXPERIENCE TOOK A 

LOT OF COURAGE TO 

DO, AND RUNNING FOR 

TREASURER MADE ME 

COURAGEOUS ENOUGH 

TO RUN FOR SECRETARY 

THE NEXT YEAR!” 

Soon, after school, I told my mom about the experience and what I said to my 

teacher. She gasped and congratulated me, saying, “I am so proud of you!” 

A few days later, our teacher told the people running for student council to 

make posters for the campaign. I worked on mine when I got home from 

school. My poster had money bags and said, “Vote Audrey as your treasurer!” 

The next day, I stuck my poster on the wall where all the others were, and 

I proceeded to give away some paper handouts that said “Vote Audrey for 

Treasurer” for my campaign. 

A few weeks later, the voting started. I walked into my classroom, shaking 

because of the big event, and I went to my chair and talked to my friend who 

sat next to me. After talking for a minute, our teacher told everyone, “Take out 

your computers, because we are about to start voting.” At that point, I was 

trembling and sweating while at the same time saying to myself, I really hope 

I win, but also, I am really scared. We then watched all the speeches on a big 

digital screen, and I covered my eyes and ears. 

When we finished watching the speeches, we moved on to voting. My friend 

was kind enough to vote for me because I was his friend. When the principal 

announced the results of the voting on the speaker, I was sad to hear that I 

didn’t win the spot for treasurer. When I told my mom, she said, “It’s okay if 

you didn’t win. At least you tried.” Instead, my friend won, which made me feel 

a lot better. Though I didn’t win that year, the experience took a lot of courage 

to do, and running for treasurer made me courageous enough to run for 

secretary the next year! Unfortunately, I lost again that time, but that made me 

gain enough courage to want to run for vice president in the next election. 



110 111

MARYAM BANKA 

SARA COYLE, TEACHER 


Courage. Just two syllables bring so many thoughts to not only the mind, but 

also the heart. Respect. Confidence. Values. Not only is courage a great quality, 

but it’s an essential part of life. If Susan B. Anthony hadn’t said anything, would 

ladies be able to vote? People of many colors wouldn’t have their rights if it 

wasn’t for Martin Luther King Jr. These aren’t the only people who stood up 

for humankind. There are many who have shown courage, yet most of the 

world doesn’t even know their names. If the world truly understood the 

importance of courage, MLK Day would be every day, since courage happens 

every day. Opportunities to show acts of courage come and go, but what 

matters is whether you take them or not. 

I’m a shy person. I may not like it, but it’s true. I’m quiet, and it’s hard for me 

to speak up. I’m also known to get a lot of things right. I’m known to know 

things the rest of the class doesn’t know. When a shy and somewhat smart 

person says “I don’t know” for the first time when they are young, it’s not the 

biggest experience, but it helps them grow. 

“SOMETIMES, IT’S OKAY 

NOT TO KNOW.” 

Courage can be big or small. A lot or little. To different people, courage can be 

saying simple words in front of twenty-five people, or a ten-paragraph essay 

broadcasting to eight billion people. In the end, courage is all for the greater 

good, but you have to know when to take it. Some people sit in front of the 

mirror all day, practicing what they should have said in the past, and when the 

time comes, they’re sitting ducks. Be ready for when courage finds you! 

One day, my class and I were learning math. We had the same teacher for every 

subject, so we just took our math books out of our desks. There was a problem 

I was stuck on. I stared at the page, waiting for the answer to come to me. I 

decided to finish the rest of the page first. Soon, I had finished all the problems 

except that one. I worried that it was impossible, so I waited for the rest of class 

to finish and prayed the teacher wouldn’t call on me. 

The class finished quicker than I expected, and we had already started sharing 

answers. Then, the question came. It felt as if the classroom was holding their 

breath. Then, the teacher called on me. 

I had no idea what to say, so I just said, “I… I don’t know.” 

The teacher raised her eyebrows, then said, “Well, who knows the answer?” 

I was so relieved to see that no one knew that I felt like crying. The 

embarrassment was over! But now, I’m glad that I went through this experience 

at a young age. This is true because you need to be able to face experiences like 

this to help you grow. Otherwise, I’d be in sixth grade feeling bad about not 

knowing something. Sometimes, it’s okay not to know. 



112 113

ANTONIA VELEZ 

ALEXANDER CHOE AND JOHN ZIEMBA, TEACHERS 

Educational Divide Reform Step Up Summer Camp, Brockton, MA 

What courage means to me is to not give up on what you love, even if it’s hard. 

When I was really little, I was talkative but shy when I was around people. Like, 

when family members came over, I would talk, even though I didn’t want to. 

I had just moved to a new school called the Mary E. Baker School two months 

before. I was scared to move to a different school, but my brother said it was a 

great school. I didn’t have that many friends, and I didn’t know anyone, so 

I didn’t talk to anyone because I was scared and shy. 

“AFTER THAT 

EXPERIENCE, I 

LEARNED THAT IT 

IS HARD TO USE 

COURAGE, BUT WHEN 

YOU DO IT MORE 

AND MORE, YOU 

GET USED TO IT.” 

When I was in kindergarten at school, I was always partnered with this girl 

named Zoey. We were both shy, and we didn’t want to talk with each other, 

but we had to in order to get our work done. After at least one month, we got 

used to talking to each other, and then I worked up the courage to go up to 

her and ask her to be my friend so I could have more friends and not be too 

shy to talk anymore. I was scared because I didn’t know what she was 

thinking. My other friend, Bella, wanted the best for me, and she was beside 

me. Out of consideration, she told me to ask Zoey, because I was always 

partnered with her. 

I tried to hide my shyness and said quietly and slowly, “Do you want to be my 

friend?” I felt happy to get the words out of my mouth, and I was scared that 

she would say no. But she said yes! Happily, we became best friends! We would 

always draw together at recess, but we weren’t in the same class in first grade or 

second grade. I hoped she would be in my class in third grade, but sadly, she 

moved to a different school. After that experience, I learned that it is hard to 

use courage, but when you do it more and more, you get used to it. After that, 

I wasn’t the one who was that scared, because other kids started to ask me… 

and I knew how they felt! 



114 115

DIEGO DE LEON MERIDA 



What I am trying to do in my life right now is move on through hard times. 

When my grandma passed away last summer, I had this sadness come out of 

me. It sometimes brings me to dark places and leads me to misbehave in school 

or at home—it ruins me. I couldn’t imagine a world without my grandma, but 

it unfortunately happened. Life without my grandma is hard, and knowing she 

isn’t here with me right now makes me want to cry. She changed my whole 

perspective on life with her wise words. She made me who I am, and without 

her, I’m nothing. I miss her so much. 

“I CAN CONTROL 

MY BEHAVIOR AND 

ATTITUDE, AND I’M 

LEARNING TO USE 

COURAGE EVERY DAY 

TO LIVE WITHOUT 

SOMEONE I LOVE.” 

On a summery Tuesday morning, my dad told me that my grandma wasn’t 

getting better in the hospital and that we had to go visit her. We waited for my 

mom, and we went to the hospital. When we arrived, I saw my whole family 

there sobbing. It was such a sad sight to see. 

At the hospital, I left my grandma’s hospital room with my dad, and when 

I went back, she had been pronounced dead. My heart sank to my stomach, 

and I couldn’t believe it. After that day, my life went downhill. 

This feeling was traumatizing. The funeral was just as bad. Everyone was 

crying, and just looking at her body made my heart sink, and I felt like 

everything was crumbling down. A world without a grandma is hard. My 

family all felt devastated, but it really hit my dad and me hard. We didn’t know 

what to do in this situation. I asked my dad how I could keep moving on with 

life. He said, “She is here. You just don’t see her. She is always in your heart.” 

These words made me change my perspective on the situation. 

It not only takes courage to live without my grandma, but it also takes courage 

to learn to move on and not let it get to me. I keep thinking to myself, If only they 

had taken her to the hospital earlier, she’d still be here. But ultimately, we have to let 

life do its thing. Everything happens for a reason, and I can’t control certain 

things that happen in life. I can control my behavior and attitude, and I’m 

learning to use courage every day to live without someone I love. 



116 117

AVERY HUGHSON 

JEANINE STANSFIELD, TEACHER 


Courage. Courage is shown in many different ways. Some people run into 

burning buildings, some fly into outer space, and others make controversial 

speeches to advance important causes. All these people show courage at 

moments in their lives. But imagine having to show courage every moment of 

your life. Imagine having to show courage from the moment you were born, 

from the moment you woke up in the morning to when you went to bed at 

night. Imagine not having a choice but to show this courage. Imagine not 

being able to speak, express your pain, feed yourself breakfast, or walk up the 

stairs. These are some of the consequences of the neurological disorder Rett 

syndrome, which my aunt, Jennifer Hughson, suffers from. 

Rett syndrome is a rare genetic neurological disorder that affects one in ten 

thousand females (and even fewer males) and begins to display itself in missed 

milestones or regression at six to eighteen months. Rett syndrome leads to 

severe impairments which affect almost every part of life, like the abilities to 

speak, walk, eat, and breathe easily. 

“WITNESSING SOMEONE 

OVERCOMING THESE 

CHALLENGES IS 

WHAT OPENED MY 

EYES TO THE IDEA 

THAT COURAGE 

CAN TAKE MANY 

DIFFERENT FORMS.” 

Witnessing someone overcoming these challenges is what opened my eyes to the 

idea that courage can take many different forms. When I am with my aunt, I 

feel inspired. I feel this way because I know that I am so lucky to be able to play 

sports, and go to school, and do so many of the little things that we take for 

granted. This helps me to look past moments when I am tired or unmotivated, 

because I know that some people are not able to do the things that I am able to 

do. This is what courage means to me: it’s someone or something that changes 

the way you see the world. 

My aunt was diagnosed with Rett syndrome at six years old. At the time, Rett 

syndrome was not very well known, and my grandparents had to visit many 

doctors before the diagnosis was made. I can’t even imagine how much courage 

it would take to go through these types of challenges without even knowing 

what was causing them. Once a diagnosis was finally shared, she was told she 

might not live much longer. She persevered and is still going strong over forty 

years later. 

My aunt is severely disabled and can’t speak, walk, or even eat normally. This 

means that everyday tasks can become very complicated. She lives with her 

parents (my grandparents), and due to some recent complications, she now has 

to eat using a feeding tube. Some of her greatest pleasures in life came with her 

favorite desserts and favorite foods, and Rett syndrome has even taken those 

from her. Despite that, she still brings joy and happiness to those around her, 

day in and day out. I watch my aunt and am amazed by her bravery, and it 

makes me want to be a better person, because I realize, through her courage, 

how fortunate I am to be healthy. 



118 119

AZARIAH TYLER 

AARON KESLER AND ALISON SPADE, TEACHERS 

Boston Renaissance Charter Public School, Boston, MA 

To me, courage is not being afraid to ask tough questions, and being responsible 

for taking care of someone, even though you’re scared. You know when you 

suspect something is wrong, but you don’t think too much of it? Then you start 

finding the missing puzzle pieces, but you don’t want to finish it just yet because 

you don’t know if it’s right or wrong? Courage is asking questions to figure out 

the puzzle, or asking for help. I had to find my courage and conquer my fear 

when I had to ask my mom if she was sick. 

“I DIDN’T LET FEAR 

IMPACT MY ABILITY TO 

BE COURAGEOUS.” 

A couple of years ago, I noticed my mom wasn’t her usual self. She had been 

moving slowly and looking tired, and she hadn’t been eating normally. I didn’t 

think much of it because I was getting excited about going back to school to 

see all my friends. We had been out of school for almost a year due to the 

COVID-19 pandemic. I was so ready for school to be back in person. It was 

spring, and summer was around the corner, so I was definitely happy about 

that. One day, before school was to begin in person again, I could tell 

something was off in my family because everyone seemed sad. My mom told 

me to sit down. She told me that she had breast cancer. 

Those words crushed me, knowing that her life and mine wouldn’t be the same 

again. Emotions flowed through my body. I didn’t know whether to be sad or 

angry or nervous about my mom and this diagnosis. Tears poured down my 

face onto the floor. You know it’s not very easy to hear your mom, your rock, 

say, “I have breast cancer.” My mom has struggled with her mental health for 

years, and I am the one person who can always calm her down. However, this 

cancer diagnosis really made it harder for her to stay calm. She was very sad 

and moody and would shut everyone out, including me! That hurt! I wished 

and wished and wished that I could make her pain go away. I knew that what 

I had to do was stay calm and do my best to be there for her. To take care of 

her the best I knew how, even though I was a child. 

Seeing my mom go through so much pain, I showed courage by taking care 

of her, even though it was sad and painful. I stuck by her side with every step 

she took, holding her hand and not letting go of it. Though there were times 

I wanted to give up, I didn’t, knowing I had to do this for my mom and that 

she would have done the same for me. I didn’t let fear impact my ability to 

be courageous. 



120 121

JESS SURNAMER 

ALEX JONES, TEACHER 


A girl named Mila was born in September 2011. She did not want to leave the 

safety of the womb, but Mila had to, for her mother’s health. That was Mila’s 

first act of courage. She entered the world and was placed on a table with a 

bright light, as if she were a science experiment. Everyone watched so intently, 

as if they expected something to go wrong. And unfortunately for little Mila, 

things did go wrong. Again, and again, and again. 

Mila Surnamer was just a little girl. Or was she? Mila always wondered what it 

would be like to be a boy. What it would be like to wear the ugliest sweatpants 

and dirtiest sweatshirt but still have every girl in the room want her. She 

wanted to have short curly hair that she could run her fingers through so it 

looked fluffy and cute, she wanted to have a low rockstar voice that sounded 

cool and moody, and she wanted girls to stare at her as she walked down the 

hallway. But she couldn’t have those things. Because, according to her gender 

assigned at birth and the way she looked, she was a long- and frizzy-haired, 

high-pitched, whiny-sounding girl who no other girl wanted, because then they 

would be “lesbians.” 

Although, did Mila truly want to be a boy? Was she faking everything? Mila 

had no idea. She grew up in a space where LBGTQ+ identities were supported, 

not frowned upon. But she wasn’t even sure what she identified with. Mila 

wanted to tell her friends and family how she felt, but what was she going to 

say? She was just in third grade at the time, having all these feelings about girls 

and boys, about how she looked and sounded, about where she fit in. Did she 

want to be a boy, or just have girls like her? Was she pansexual? Bisexual? 

Transgender? Gay? Every time she started to think about it, her palms would 

get sweaty and her brain would start spinning. She wanted to cry, feel the hot 

water falling down her face. She wanted the people around her to know she 

wasn’t okay. But she also didn’t want them to try to fix her. She didn’t even 

know what was wrong, and she of all people should be the first person to know 

that. Then, she entered sixth grade. 

Mila was more of themself that year, their pronouns being nonbinary and their 

sexuality queer. They liked themselves. Or maybe they just wanted to think 

they did, because they just wanted to feel secure for once. But something still 

wasn’t right. Mila didn’t feel as if their name was even theirs anymore; they 

wondered if maybe it was just another label that they didn’t identify with. That 

“JESS DIDN’T KNOW 

WHAT THE FUTURE 

WOULD HOLD. BUT 

HE KNEW WHO HE 

WAS. AND THAT 

WAS ENOUGH.” 

uncomfortable feeling of sweaty palms and awkward silence came back. So, 

they tried something different. They went by Jess. They chose Jess because it 

was a very masculine name. Nothing like their old name. 

Now that they had labels that fit with their identity, it hit them, just like the bus 

in Mean Girls. They were transgender. Being a boy was just the right fit for him. 

And now that he knew who he was, he could share himself with others. Even 

though he was relieved, he was also scared. Telling his parents that he wasn’t 

their baby girl anymore was the most frightening thing he could ever think of. 

He knew his parents were supportive of LGBTQ+ rights in general, but would 

they be supportive of their own child? He thought long and hard about how he 

was going to tell them. He said that he didn’t want to forget the person he was; 

he just didn’t want to be them anymore. He loved them, but he had never really 

liked being them. 

Even though his parents understood, there were still some hiccups. They would 

sometimes forget his name and his pronouns or question whether it was all just 

puberty. But it wasn’t. And as long as Jess knew that, he would have the 

courage to keep going. 

He wasn’t naïve enough to believe the future wouldn’t hold more challenges— 

that he wouldn’t lose friends over this or be treated differently. But Jess was 

starting to realize that he didn’t care. He would embrace the stares in the school 

hallways, enjoy wearing the ugly sweats, and find the people who liked him for 

him. Jess’s first brave act was in September 2011. But it certainly wasn’t his last. 

Jess didn’t know what the future would hold. But he knew who he was. And 

that was enough. 



122 123

MORGAN MULREY 

MICHAEL ANDREWS, TEACHER 


It all started when I was at my stepmother’s job, and she saw me standing there, 

blacked out to the core. For me, it was dark—pitch black—and I really didn’t 

hear my stepmother calling my name a million times. “Morgan, Morgan! Are 

you all right?” she shouted. It was spring vacation, and I was with my 

stepmother the whole week. My stepmother contacted my other parents, Mom 

and Dad. I didn’t know what was happening. I was always losing track of where 

I was, and my stepmother said that I had mini seizures. Courage to me means 

fighting for what you want and standing up for yourself. I show this by living 

with my seizure disorder every day. 

I was ten years old when I discovered I had a seizure disorder. When I went to 

the doctor, she explained what was happening and gave me a prescription to 

calm them. I was scared because I thought this was going to affect my whole 

life. Would I have normal experiences, like getting my driver’s license? I was 

anxious, but my doctor said that my disorder might go away. 

When I went to school, it was good for a while. Then, I got to my fifth-grade 

class and froze. I didn’t move; I didn’t want my class to know what I had, but it 

showed for them when I sat down in my seat. Everyone was looking at me, and 

I didn’t know what to do. All I did was stare at my Chromebook, doing nothing. 

Some of the kids who were next to me started giggling, and I thought to myself, 

They must think that I look like an idiot. 

“MY SEIZURE DISORDER 

HAS AFFECTED MY 

DAILY LIFE AND HAS 

MADE THE THINGS 

I LOVE TO DO 

DIFFICULT. YET, I 

PUSH THROUGH.” 

lights went dark. Thankfully, I had my friend and my teacher there for support. 

I got through the solo, and my parents told me I was amazing. Although it has 

been hard, I have found ways to overcome this struggle by having someone 

beside me, ready to help. 

This experience has taught me that I have the courage to stand up for myself 

when others are embarrassing me and making me feel uncomfortable about 

who I am. This disorder is part of me, and I have learned to accept it. When 

others are pushing you down, remember that there is always a path that leads 

you to victory. Find the strength to move forward, and don’t worry about 

what others think. 

I was embarrassed. All I wanted to do was sink into the ground or burn to 

ashes. Worse yet, I didn’t know that my crush was in the same room as me. He 

was talking to my teacher and looking at me. He wasn’t giggling—all he did was 

look. I didn’t know why, but I had to get out of there. I told my teacher that I 

needed to use the ladies’ room. I was heartbroken from all the thoughts running 

through my head. Why are they doing this? Why are they so cold hearted? It wasn’t 

long before so many showed their real colors. 

My seizure disorder has affected my daily life and has made the things I love to 

do difficult. Yet, I push through. I love to ride bikes with my family, but seizures 

get in the way. I am also part of the chorus and was given a solo in the winter 

concert. My nerves were only making things worse, with seizures one by one 

before the concert even started. I had my mom and my grandmother to help 

me along the way. Once I stepped out for my solo, sounds muffled and the 



124 125

HADLEY RUBBICCO 

SARA DEOREO, TEACHER 


Courage is something that not everyone is acquainted with. Courage takes time 

to acquire. It is neither a privilege nor a right. Some people experience it and 

some don’t. But that’s okay. The courage that I have gone through is something 

I wish I hadn’t. 

It all started January 6, 2022. I was walking to the park, and I got a text from 

my mother. It read, “Do you want Auntie Kathleen to pick you up, or do you 

want to go to Steward Station?” Back then, Steward Station was an afterschool 

program, and I didn’t enjoy it, so naturally, I chose for my aunt to pick me up. 

By the time she pulled into the driveway of my house, I could tell something 

was wrong. My dad had been in the hospital for a few days because he had 

COVID-19. I tried not to think the worst, but my mind immediately skipped 

to that. 

I walked through the door to see my close family all around, including my 

grandmother, grandfather, and aunts and uncles. Then I saw the grim faces 

spread across my close family. I looked over to my mother and brothers. 

They brought me to my oldest brother’s room, their eyes glossy. My mother 

looked into my innocent eyes and told me something I would never forget. 

“I’m so sorry… I’m so, so sorry… but… Daddy is in a better place…” 

There and then, I felt my world shatter. It had to be some sick joke. A prank? 

Something. Anything but this. But no. Eight billion people in the world, and my 

own father, my beloved and kind father, dead. 

I couldn’t comprehend this tragedy. In a fit of melancholia, I sobbed; 

everything blurred and spilled into reality and my own fake world. 

As days droned on, my depression sank deeper than the pit I buried myself in. 

I didn’t go to school; I stayed home and distracted myself. Anything to escape 

from my own life; I thought, I’ll leave this all behind. 

The days and nights fell into each other as I was slowly swallowed by sitting on 

the couch and doing nothing but basking in my own guilt and anger. 

“IT’S NOT MY FATHER’S 

PASSING THAT MADE 

ME COURAGEOUS, 

BECAUSE I STILL HAVE 

TO COPE WITH THAT. 

THE REAL COURAGE 

HERE WAS SHARING IT.” 

I didn’t want to eat, drink, get up, or live. I fed myself only if I felt like it. If only 

I could have been what I pretended I was. 

Once I was forced back into the fourth grade, my days only got worse. I had to 

deal with all the fake sympathy and figure out everything I had missed while 

having this load of guilt on my back. I loathed my classmates, my teacher, the 

questions, and this grief that was heavier than my deep anger. 

I’m not afraid to say it: I wanted to die. I wanted to be with my dad, where my 

problems and “imperfections” wouldn’t be missed. 

I had angry outbursts all the time, and it got to the point where I wanted to 

lash out at some of the kids in my class. I needed to purge my urges. I didn’t 

even think; I didn’t even try. It was like I gave up on everything. It seemed as 

if my future were static, as if it dripped on my floor. 

One day in music class, everyone was playing a game. My friend and I were 

messing around. Some of my classmates were getting ticked off by us, and they 

would say things like, “JUST GET IN THE CIRCLE ALREADY!” Then, I 

would simply refuse. I thought, If you’re not gonna be kind, I’m not gonna listen to 

you. Then, after things heated up more, I started to cry from all the pressure. 

The thing that filled me with the most fury was that all the kids who were 

yelling at me tried to comfort me, as if I were their friend. It made me 

extremely irate. 

After many days, I was treated like a normal person, and no one paid attention 

to me, but it got to the point where I was a ghost, invisible even. Then, people 

talked about me behind my back. I was only a little girl, with few years spent 

with her own father. But hey, if nobody hears you, are you really around? 



126 127

One day, I was hanging out with my two friends. One of them came up to me 

and told me, “I heard someone say that you only cry because you want 

attention…” She was part of a group at school that would spread hate and 

cover up their disgusting true nature through the sweet tasks that they would 

do for the teachers. I remember always fighting with people like them. I lost 

my father, my loved one, and that made me an outcast. 

I slowly started shutting down my emotions. I didn’t want to feel anything as 

I slowly started breaking off friendships and trying to find who I was. I noticed 

that I didn’t like talking to people, in general and about my father’s passing. 

I spent time alone and felt happy for once. 

I know this is an antagonistic thing to say, but not talking about it to friends 

and teachers made me feel better. I still struggle with things like undiagnosed 

mental struggles, not knowing what’s going on with me, and my identity. I try 

my hardest to be happy and have fun, but sometimes it’s just hard. It’s not my 

father’s passing that made me courageous, because I still have to cope with 

that. The real courage here was sharing it. 



128 129

MAPLE GAIL MCLAREN 

KATE LYNCH, TEACHER 


Most things take courage. Think about it: even something small. Like when 

you do not want to get out of bed in the morning or do a chore—you have the 

courage to do that. Standing up for yourself or another person takes courage, 

especially when you do it in front of others. We’ve all done these things 

before, so when the little voice in your head says, “You’re not enough,” know 

that you are. 

I used to wonder why all the other little girls at my preschool had dads. Dads 

who loved them, and were there, and were safe. I was only two, and he still hurt 

me. I don’t understand how a person could do that to a kid. It ruined parts of 

my life and my mother’s life that we can’t get back. I remember getting put in 

his car outside of the police station that my mom had to take me to so I could 

visit him. She didn’t know he was dangerous; if she did, she never would have 

let him see me. I screamed, cried, and tried to tell my mom to take me out. He 

wouldn’t even let my mom say goodbye to me. Say goodbye to the girl she was 

fighting for. He locked the door and watched my mom touch the window to say 

goodbye to me as she held back her tears. “Don’t touch my car,” he said. 

“Mama! No more Dada! No more Dada!” 

I would bite, kick, and scream every time we had to leave the house, because 

I didn’t know if I was going to have to see him. Let’s say that the kindest thing 

he had ever done to me was lock me in a basement for hours in winter as a 

two-year-old with my baby brother. I don’t even know that baby brother 

anymore. He has to live with the monster who is my father and his mother. His 

mother said, “I’m going to take you home, Maple,” after I witnessed my father 

abuse an animal. She didn’t take me home. She drove around the neighborhood 

for an hour. 

“I AM STRONG, I 

AM LOVED, I AM 

POWERFUL, I AM 

SMART, AND I 

AM CARED FOR. I 

AM MAPLE GAIL 

MCLAREN. AND 

I AM NO LONGER 

SCARED OF HIM.” 

Sometimes you can’t pretend like everything is fine, and sometimes you can’t 

put the mask on. When you tell another person what’s happening or what they 

did to you, you do something so powerful. If you are scared to tell someone 

what is happening to you, I understand. I don’t know how I could even muster 

and comprehend the words “he hurt me” at two and a half. My mom taught 

me how to read and do math at three and four, so I knew that I was worth 

more than what he did. That I was worthy of respect. You are worthy of 

respect. Courage is much more than pushing through something or tearing 

down your walls. It’s not letting events, diagnoses, or feelings define who you 

are. Max never let leukemia define him; he never let anyone but himself do that. 

Max inspired me to never let anyone or anything but myself define who I am. 

I am not what he did to me, I am not the trauma, I am not anxiety, I am not 

the rumors, I am not “the girl whose dad abused her,” I am not a scared 

three-year-old, I never was his daughter, he never was my father, and I am 

not the result of his actions. I am strong, I am loved, I am powerful, I am 

smart, and I am cared for. I am Maple Gail McLaren. And I am no longer 

scared of him. 

You have courage, and I do, too. 

Someone at my middle school who I used to be friends with knew about what 

happened and told one person, if not more. Then, it was put in a group chat. 

I don’t know how many people were in that group chat, and I have no clue if it 

was passed on. I faced it, and I didn’t hide from it. I had the courage to go to 

school the day after my privacy was violated. The fact that he has no rights to 

see me or have contact with family or friends, even after I’m eighteen, is a 

miracle. So many children are forced to repeat that pattern for years with no 

supervision or help. I am so grateful that I did get the help I needed! 



130 131

SYLVIA EVERSON 



I found out when I was twelve. It was terrifying. The gates of my mind were 

opened. All the emotions came at me all at once. I was confused. I was scared. 

How could I be gay? A ton of bricks hit me as my brain was flooded with so 

many questions and so few answers. In the family I’ve grown up in, it was a 

subject that was never talked about. Not avoided—just not talked about. In the 

small town that I have lived in my whole life, there was plenty of representation 

and obvious support, but I never thought it was made to include me, too. 

During all this time, I had silly little crushes on boys, until I didn’t. The 

pronouns of the people I liked started changing from “he” to “she.” Sitting in 

the middle of math class, my body was there, but my mind was not. There was 

no way I could focus on learning about reciprocals when I had just figured 

something out that would forever alter my future. 

Courage. What is it? How does it work? How is it shown? How do I show it? In 

my case, courage came in the form of not only telling other people, but coming 

to terms with it with myself. I knew that there would be people who would not 

accept me. That brought me so much anxiety, and stress, and more anxiety. 

I didn’t know what to do. I felt as if I owed it to people to tell them that I was 

gay. As if I would be a fake, dishonest, bad person if people were not made 

aware. That led me into a spiral of overthinking. Then, a week later, I was on 

a call with my best friend. The subject had wandered up in our conversation. 

I wanted to tell her that I was gay. I wanted to come out. After all, she was my 

best friend. She would support me. Right? My overthinking started again, and 

that brought along an anxiety attack. My breathing became more and more 

shallow until it became difficult to breathe at all. My heart would not slow 

down. It felt like someone was taking drumsticks and banging on my heart. 

The room got smaller and smaller. I was stuck. I felt as if I could not think 

clearly. I looked around and found my fidget toys. I picked one up and started 

moving it around in my hands and between my fingers. I grabbed my water 

and took a sip. Even though it was nearly painful, I tried my hardest to focus on 

my breathing. Deep and long, my breaths became more gentle. I started feeling 

more calm. I drank a little more water and continued to use my fidgets. After a 

few minutes, my heartbeats were slower and more consistent, my breathing was 

stable, and I was thinking clearly. I mustered up all the courage and bravery 

I possibly could, and I told her. It took a lot of mental preparation and double 

“THE MEDIA, 

POLITICIANS, AND 

EVEN SOME PEOPLE 

WE PERSONALLY KNOW 

HAVE TOLD US AS A 

COMMUNITY THAT 

BEING DIFFERENT IS 

WRONG. SO, LIVING AS 

MY TRUE SELF TAKES 

LOTS OF COURAGE 

EVERY DAY.” 

the amount of courage, but I did it. Afterwards, I felt so much better, as if the 

weight of the world had been lifted off my shoulders. That is what courage feels 

like. I was so proud of myself. I had come out of the closet. 

Fast forward two more years. I am now fourteen years old, and I am out to the 

people who matter in my life. I realized that being different didn’t mean being 

wrong. I am still showing the same kind of courage in my day-to-day life now 

as I was two years ago. Not only does that include the never-ending process of 

constantly coming out to new people, but also just existing as a queer person. 

In the kind of world I am growing up in, being included in the LGTBQIA+ 

community, I show persistent courage by being my true self. This is for many 

reasons. One of the most apparent reasons is the constant homophobia that 

surrounds our society. The media, politicians, and even some people we 

personally know have told us as a community that being different is wrong. 

So, living as my true self takes lots of courage every day. However, even though 

I still live with anxiety, I’ve learned how to handle it better. I know how to 

recognize when I need a break and have developed healthy coping 

mechanisms. I now know that utilizing fidgets, drinking lots of water, and 

maintaining a social life helps me so much. I show courage not only by 

expressing my true self, but also by being a mentor to younger people. To me, 

courage is not just being brave in one moment, but rather living in a way that 

leads to better outcomes, no matter how scary the processes to get there are. 

I can be courageous now by being that role model I wish that I had as a 

younger queer person. I am a courageous person. 



132 133

MUKTI SHAH 



What is courage? For many, courage is the ability to do something that they 

believe in, even if no one else does. For instance, courage for me is being able 

to stand alone and voice my opinion even if no one is ready to hear it. When 

I think of courage, I think of the time when I let a small red dot between my 

eyebrows scare me, and how I overcame it with this powerful trait. This red 

dot, commonly known as a bindi or a chandlo, used to terrify me. Especially 

when I was in elementary school, I used to get made fun of for wearing it, 

which would cause me to lose courage. At first, I didn’t let these comments 

affect me. However, after hearing hurtful names and comments like “red dot 

girl,” they started to hurt me a lot. At one point, I even stopped explaining 

what it meant to me, because my peers would take it as a joke. 

Months and months went by where I did not apply my symbol of courage, and 

my parents even noticed and asked why I had stopped. I told them that I felt 

uncomfortable wearing it to school because I was getting teased for it and 

treated like a joke. Surprisingly, soon, at school, even my peers asked why I had 

stopped wearing my “red dot.” As time went on, many more people started to 

question me: teachers, students, administrators. 

“ONLY AFTER MANY 

PEOPLE ASKED ME 

DID I REALIZE THAT 

THE CHANDLO WAS A 

PART OF MY IDENTITY, 

PART OF MY CULTURE 

AND UPBRINGING. 

IT WAS A SYMBOL 

OF MY COURAGE.” 

priority to show and surface my courage, and at the same time, teach others 

about my culture and religion. All in all, this journey has taught me that I need 

to always stand up for what I believe in and show my courage, even if it means 

standing alone. 

Only after many people asked me did I realize that the chandlo was a part of 

my identity, part of my culture and upbringing. It was a symbol of my courage. 

My chandlo was, and is, a part of me and will always be important to me. It 

didn’t matter that I was known for my chandlo, but it mattered that I had the 

courage to show my true self to my peers. My entire life, I lived in fear of being 

treated differently because of my different culture and religion. However, I 

found a way to overcome it. I asked my mentors at my temple how they dealt 

with their chandlo and how they properly explained it to their peers. They 

explained to me that oftentimes, people are more intrigued and curious than 

disturbed and disgusted. 

Wearing my chandlo allowed me to be comfortable and open about my culture 

and helped me properly inform others about my religion. I hope to inspire 

many kids struggling with expressing themselves. I learned the hard way that 

you should never back down from showcasing your culture and religion, 

because your belief and your background makes you, you. Now, I make it my 



134 135

LUCY LORENZ 

KATIE BAUER AND ISABEL PIPER, TEACHERS 

North Yarmouth Academy, Yarmouth, ME 

When my brother and I go snowboarding, he always says, “If you are scared, 

then do it scared.” He always helps me when snowboarding and when doing 

sports. He always supports me by coaching me and playing with me. He is the 

best big brother most of the time because he encourages me to take risks. 

Will is good at sports. He is an athletic person, and that is always hard for 

me—sports are not my thing. During the winter, Will and I go to Sugarloaf 

Mountain in Carrabassett Valley and snowboard every weekend. I used to ski, 

but once Will started to snowboard, I decided I would, too. It was hard for me 

at the start, but I got the hang of it. I started in 2020, so this will be my fifth 

season on board. Will joined a snowboard association called CVA. He learned 

how to race and be a better snowboarder. This made me want to do it too. I 

was terrified when I first went to CVA in December 2023. Everyone looked so 

good, and I was afraid I would not be able to keep up. I went every weekend, 

and still do. Will goes to the park with me to help me get better at rails and 

jumps. He always says, “Send it!” and he encourages me to do my best. I am 

still scared to do rails and jumps, but when he sees me hesitate, he will say, 

“If you’re scared, then do it scared,” and those words give me the spark I need 

to try, even though I may fall. 

“BECAUSE MY BIG 

BROTHER BELIEVES 

IN ME, HE GIVES ME 

THE COURAGE TO 

BELIEVE IN MYSELF.” 

I tend to copy Will, even though I know it annoys him. I am his little sister— 

that is just what we do! When he goes snowboarding, I always ask if I can come. 

His answer is always no. I get why he does not want me to come. He is with his 

friends, and I must go to CVA. I don’t love CVA, but I do it because I am 

committed to it. In March 2023, I went to Copper Mountain, Colorado to 

compete in nationals. I was terrified. I did not want to compete, but I did not go 

to Colorado to give up. I got ready to compete in my first race, giant slalom. It 

was super scary. I was going against boys and girls between the ages of eleven 

and twelve. I got ready, and I set off. I was turning so fast, but I felt so slow. The 

race ended. It felt like only five minutes had passed. It turned out that I had 

placed number thirty-seven out of one hundred kids, and I was proud of myself. 

When my brother comes to watch me, I always want to do my best. He 

always tells me to win. I try to keep this mindset because it gives me courage 

to win, even when I know I may not. Because my big brother believes in me, 

he gives me the courage to believe in myself. He gives me confidence, even 

when I am scared. 



136 137

LIVI MEEHAN 

AMY ROJEK, TEACHER 


It was around one when my dad picked me up from school. I had been 

dreading this moment for weeks; it was finally time for my therapy meeting. 

Normally, I like therapy meetings, but this one was different because this time, 

I had to talk to my dad. The car ride was as awkward as ever. I thought about 

things that could happen in that room. When I pictured the room, I saw a 

dark, endless void instead of a cozy, warm light. 

“Is there anything we need to discuss now, before we head inside?” my dad asked. 

I looked up and realized that we had arrived; my stomach twisted and turned 

as I replied with, “No.” 

I could tell that even my dad was stressed as we rode the elevator. To be fair, 

how could I blame him? He knew nothing about what was going on. 

“FINDING COURAGE 

CAN BE DIFFICULT, BUT 

ONCE YOU FIND YOUR 

VOICE AND SPEAK UP, 

YOU SHOW PEOPLE 

THAT YOU KNOW 

YOU HAVE WORTH.” 

that he will listen. He even opens up to me more now. Finding courage can be 

difficult, but once you find your voice and speak up, you show people that you 

know you have worth. Once you feel confident and courageous, people will 

recognize you, especially people who care about you. 

We arrived on the floor, and I saw another client step out of the therapist’s 

room. She saw us and waved to come in. My heart was pounding as I stepped 

in. My therapist asked if I wanted to start off talking, or if she should. “Could 

you, please?” I replied, trying not to cry. 

As she went on to talk to my dad, I thought of my mom’s words: “You need to 

say how you feel and stand up for yourself.” 

When my therapist paused, I knew it was my turn to share about the 

relationship issues that had been making it hard to talk with my dad. Tears 

started pouring down my face, and I tried to catch my breath. I couldn’t even 

look over at him because I was worried about his reaction. I wondered what 

he was thinking and feeling as I said these things; it made me even more sad. 

I continued to go on, every word, another tear, every tear, another word. My 

therapist could tell that if I went on more, I’d break, so she told me to take a 

breath, and she’d continue. 

This was scary, but it was probably the most defining moment in my life when 

I displayed courage. To me, courage is having the strength to do something, 

even if it’s scary, if you know it’s what you need to do to make something right. 

Having this conversation allowed me to have a better relationship with my dad. 

Now, I feel confident enough to talk to him when I have a problem, and I know 



138 139

INTERNATIONAL PROGRAM 



140 141

COURAGE AROUND THE GLOBE 

The Max Warburg Courage Curriculum began working with international 

partners in 2007 in response to a growing interest in implementing its 

accessible, proven curriculum in other countries. To date, the program has 

been taught in 16 countries, including El Salvador, Pakistan, India, Lebanon, 

Thailand, and China. This list continues to grow as our organization forms 

partnerships with schools and learning communities across the globe to 

engage students in the reading and writing process, while empowering them 

to discover, recognize, and celebrate the courage in their lives. 

The essays featured in this section were written by students participating in 

our international programs. They represent the universal nature of courage 

and support our conviction that all people have the capacity to be courageous. 

This year, we are honored to continue our partnerships with The Cambridge 

Cambodia School, Mawr Volunteers in Yemen, the Personal Development 

Institute of Mongolia, The American School of Barcelona, and Hisar Schools 

in Turkey. We are grateful to each of these partners for their compassionate 

work with teachers and students in their respective countries and for sharing 

in the vision of The Max Warburg Courage Curriculum. 

Recognizing that the stories of courage from children across the globe enrich 

the educational experience for all students, we seek to continue sharing our 

materials and offering educational opportunities for children outside of 

Boston. For more information about The Max Warburg Courage Curriculum 

and our programs, please visit www.maxcourage.org. 



142 143

E. BAYARJARGAL 

M. MUNKHDULAM, TEACHER 

4th School of Uvurkhangai Province, Uvurkhangai Province, Mongolia 

Courage, to me, embodies maintaining a positive outlook in the face of 

adversity. It’s about being optimistic and self-assured and acknowledging the 

challenges life presents—both good and bad. As a child, I grappled with a 

lung disease that confined me to a hospital bed, tethered to a ventilator. Yet, 

even in those darkest moments, I found the strength to persevere, fueled by 

dreams and resilience. 

But my journey didn’t end there. As I grew older, the specter of my illness 

loomed over me, hindering my ability to participate fully in activities like 

running. I struggled to catch my breath, a constant reminder of my limitations. 

Despite this, I refused to succumb to despair. Encouraged by a steadfast 

determination, I began to push myself, one step at a time. It was a gradual 

process, marked by fatigue and setbacks, but I persisted. 

“ENCOURAGED 

BY A STEADFAST 

DETERMINATION, 

I BEGAN TO PUSH 

MYSELF, ONE STEP 

AT A TIME. IT WAS A 

GRADUAL PROCESS, 

MARKED BY FATIGUE 

AND SETBACKS, BUT 

I PERSISTED.” 

With each stride, I felt my lungs expand and heal. The support of my friends, 

particularly my fastest companion, proved invaluable. Though I faltered at 

the starting line of the school’s one-hundred-meter race, his unwavering 

encouragement spurred me forward. Two years later, he invited me to join 

the school running team—an invitation I accepted with gratitude and pride. 

Through perseverance and determination, I overcame the obstacles that once 

seemed insurmountable. I ventured into competitions, achieving notable 

success along the way. My dream of becoming a renowned singer remained 

steadfast, intertwined with the very breath that sustained me. 

My journey serves as a testament to the power of courage—the strength to 

confront sorrows and obstacles head on. It’s about trusting in oneself, 

unwavering in the face of doubt or fear. With unwavering resolve, I continue 

to remind myself that success is within reach, so long as I remain steadfast 

and resolute. 

Today, as a fourteen-year-old, I stand as a testament to the enduring power of 

courage. I’ve learned that with determination, heart, and unwavering courage, 

any obstacle can be overcome. So, I urge you to believe in yourself and to face 

your fears with confidence, knowing that on the other side of adversity lies 

triumph. Don’t falter, don’t waver—embrace the journey, for in the end, you’ll 

emerge victorious. 



144 145

M. EGSHIGLEN 

M. ERDENECHIMEG, TEACHER 

6th Secondary School of Arkhangai Province, Arkhangai Province, Mongolia 

In my understanding, courage embodies the resilience of the human spirit in 

overcoming adversity. Several years ago, my world was shaken by my parents’ 

divorce, an event that deeply impacted me. I witnessed firsthand the profound 

changes it brought into our lives, especially for my mother, who suddenly 

found herself tasked with the daunting responsibility of raising two children 

single-handedly. 

“MY JOURNEY HAS 

TAUGHT ME THE 

VALUE OF PATIENCE 

AND RESILIENCE, 

QUALITIES THAT HAVE 

BECOME MY GUIDING 

LIGHTS AS I NAVIGATE 

THE COMPLEXITIES 

OF LIFE.” 

As I watched my mother toil tirelessly, selling meat on the cold market floor 

from dawn until dusk, my heart ached with empathy. The sacrifices she made 

for us weighed heavily on my mind, particularly given the absence of our father, 

whose presence we yearned for, especially my younger brother, who clung to 

the hope of his return with every passing moment. 

Despite the pain and uncertainty that clouded our lives, I endeavored to shield 

my family from the harsh realities of our situation, concealing the true depth of 

my emotions. Instead, I embarked on a journey of self-discovery, seeking 

understanding and solace in books about divorce, as I grappled with the 

complexities of our fractured family dynamic. 

Over time, I immersed myself in my studies, finding solace and purpose in 

academic pursuits. With each passing day, I felt myself gradually emerging from 

the shadows of despair, liberated from the grip of emotional turmoil. Though 

remnants of fear lingered in my heart, manifesting as apprehension about my 

own future and the prospect of starting a family one day, I resolved to confront 

these uncertainties with courage and determination. 

My journey has taught me the value of patience and resilience, qualities that 

have become my guiding lights as I navigate the complexities of life. And while 

tears may still be shed, they serve as a testament to the strength and courage 

that reside within us, a reminder that even in our darkest moments, we possess 

the power to endure and persevere. 



146 147

N. ALTANTSOOJ 

N. MUNKH-ERDENE, TEACHER 

5th School of Bayankhongor Province, Bayankhongor Province, Mongolia 

My close friend and I were filled with excitement on that rainy day, eager to 

venture out despite the drizzle. Armed with cups of coffee, we braved the 

weather and stood outside, soaking in the ambiance. However, my headphones 

suddenly stopped working, threatening to dampen our spirits. Undeterred, we 

pressed on. As we listened to the melodic tunes of Franz Schubert with the 

volume turned up, I found myself reflecting on the various forms of courage. 

Courage comes in many shapes and forms—the courage to protect loved ones, 

to express oneself, to defend one’s country, and more. Yet, amidst these, 

I believe there’s something truly admirable about the courage to embrace 

individuality. It’s the courage to dress comfortably without worrying about 

others’ opinions, to freely voice one’s discontent without fear of judgment, to 

stroll into public spaces without makeup, or to proudly carry a button phone. 

It’s the courage to revel in the simple joys of life, unbothered by societal norms 

or expectations. 

“OUR SOCIETY OFTEN 

PLACES UNDUE 

IMPORTANCE ON 

APPEARANCES AND 

CONFORMITY, BUT 

TRUE COURAGE 

LIES IN DEFYING 

THESE NORMS.” 

In essence, courage is not just about facing external challenges; it’s also about 

overcoming internal obstacles and staying true to our convictions. It’s the 

courage to live authentically, unapologetically, and on our own terms. So, the 

next time you find yourself hesitating to embrace your true self, ask yourself: 

do I have the courage to be me? 

Our society often places undue importance on appearances and conformity, 

but true courage lies in defying these norms. It’s about being unapologetically 

oneself, regardless of whether it garners approval from others. In a world where 

conformity reigns supreme, those who dare to stand out are truly commendable. 

I was recently reminded of this when I encountered a stranger who 

unabashedly proclaimed, “I’m a mess.” This simple declaration struck a chord 

with me, highlighting the courage it takes to embrace imperfection in a society 

obsessed with perfection. Similarly, I witnessed an act of bravery when 

someone dared to challenge societal norms by sleeping outdoors with their 

belongings—a gesture that defied societal expectations and inspired admiration. 

We are often consumed by fear and the desire to please others, but it’s essential 

to remember that life is too short to live according to someone else’s standards. 

Every decision we make comes with its own set of fears, but true courage lies in 

facing these fears head on and staying true to ourselves. It’s about having the 

strength to embrace our individuality, even if it means being despised by others. 



148 149

R. JAMBALDORJ 

M. MUNKHDULAM, TEACHER 

4th school of Uvurkhangai Province, Uvurkhangai Province, Mongolia 

Greetings! Allow me to share with you my tale of courage and heritage. I hail 

from a lineage deeply intertwined with the spirit of the Mongolian steppes, 

where my father’s bond with horses echoes the legends of our ancestors. His 

childhood was spent astride noble steeds, tending to cattle, and honing his 

equestrian skills. From a young age, he demonstrated a profound love for these 

majestic creatures, fearlessly tending to their needs, even amidst the most 

challenging circumstances. Witnessing his resilience left an indelible mark on 

my upbringing. 

“IN ESSENCE, MY 

BRAVERY IS DEEPLY 

ROOTED IN THE 

RICH TAPESTRY OF 

MONGOLIAN HERITAGE 

AND THE ENDURING 

BOND BETWEEN 

MAN AND HORSE.” 

As a child, I would accompany my father on his expeditions, perched atop the 

mountains, watching over our flock of sheep. These moments, serenaded by 

the winds of the steppe and the rhythmic hoofbeats of our horses, filled me 

with an unparalleled sense of pride and belonging. In those solitary moments, 

I felt a profound connection to my Mongolian heritage, akin to the legendary 

horsemen who once rode alongside Genghis Khan. While tending to our 

livestock, I am often greeted by the sights and sounds of the wilderness—foxes, 

wolves, and wild boars traversing the vast expanse of the steppe. These 

encounters serve as poignant reminders of the symbiotic relationship between 

man and nature, igniting within me a fervent desire to repay the boundless 

kindness bestowed upon me by my parents and the land itself. 

Central to my journey of courage is the unwavering support and affection of 

my parents. Their nurturing guidance and unwavering love have instilled 

within me the strength and fortitude to navigate life’s challenges with 

resilience and grace. 

In essence, my bravery is deeply rooted in the rich tapestry of Mongolian 

heritage and the enduring bond between man and horse. As I embark on my 

own journey, I carry with me the legacy of my forebears, propelled forward 

by the enduring spirit of the steppes. 



150 151

T. JAVZANDULAM 

T. TERGEL, TEACHER 

79th School, Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia 

Courage, in my view, is the steadfast belief that, regardless of the present 

judgments others may cast upon you, your potential and future remain vast 

and promising. Today’s criticisms may weigh heavy, but they do not dictate 

who you will become in the eyes of tomorrow. Our destinies lie firmly within 

our grasp, and recognizing this truth epitomizes true bravery. 

During my elementary school years, I endured relentless mockery directed at 

both my appearance and name. The relentless taunting became so unbearable 

that I dreaded each school day. My family, deeply concerned for my wellbeing, 

sought to engage me in conversation as much as possible, but I 

withdrew into profound solitude. Days passed, and I found myself enveloped 

in the depths of loneliness, unable to shake the fear that consumed me. 

“ARMED WITH 

NEWFOUND 

MOTIVATION AND 

SELF-ASSURANCE, I 

CONFRONTED LIFE’S 

CHALLENGES WITH 

RENEWED VIGOR AND 

DETERMINATION.” 

Despite my family’s unwavering support and encouragement, my fear 

persisted. The faces of the scornful children, their mocking voices, and the 

hurtful words they hurled at me haunted my every thought. Participating in 

the MAXCourage program and reading the essays of many children around 

the world made me even more courageous, knowing that there are many 

children like me all over the world who are suffering more than me. Also, 

receiving psychological counseling and meetings with the teachers of the 

program changed me a lot. I became more self-confident and courageous. 

Furthermore, the guidance and counseling sessions provided by the program’s 

teachers facilitated a significant transformation within me. I emerged from 

these sessions with heightened self-assurance and resilience. I learned to deflect 

the barbs of ridicule and disregard the hurtful comments aimed at me. Armed 

with newfound motivation and self-assurance, I confronted life’s challenges 

with renewed vigor and determination. 

In conclusion, I urge you not to be swayed by the opinions of others. True 

courage lies in unwaveringly pursuing your goals and embracing yourself as 

you are. To those who may read this essay, I extend my sincerest wishes for 

success and fulfillment on your own journey of courage. 



152 153

U. TUVSHINZAYA 

J. OUYN-ERDENE, TEACHER 

School #2, Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia 

Courage means different things to everyone, but to me, courage means not 

sacrificing yourself to please others. Not being ashamed of anyone, not being 

afraid of others, not being ashamed of being a minority in society, and not 

blaming yourself for not being liked by others are admirable characteristics. 

This incident happened a few years ago. There was a girl in my class who was 

teased just because she was a little different. No one wanted to talk to her, let 

alone approach her. The worst thing was that even I didn’t like the girl. I just 

thought that I didn’t like her because she wasn’t like the others. But I decided 

that I wanted to get close to her, and I just wanted to talk. I approached her 

carefully, little by little, but then she went away without saying anything to me. 

I kept trying to talk to her the next day and the day after that. After many days 

of trying, I was able to speak to her. She seemed so bright, and so true, and so 

mysterious. This made me want to know the child better. 

“I DIDN’T KNOW MY 

ACT OF KINDNESS 

WOULD MAKE SUCH 

A DIFFERENCE IN ONE 

PERSON’S LIFE.” 

I got closer to her, and later, I started talking about personal things, and she 

started telling me about her feelings and shared her sensitive issues, too. I just 

hugged her when she told me that she hated herself because everyone hated 

her, she disliked herself because everyone disliked her, and she didn’t want to be 

close to anyone because no one would accept her and understand her anyway. 

Even though I was disgusted with myself, I didn’t have the courage to apologize 

to her. It’s too sad to say that if I hadn’t been close to her, I would never have 

known her. But the most amazing thing is that the child has changed beyond 

recognition. She told me that it was really wonderful, and I was so proud and 

respected her when she told me, “Now, I will not blame myself, and will not 

hate myself, and will not try to please everyone.” I didn’t know my act of 

kindness would make such a difference in one person’s life. I am so happy that 

I embraced her when everyone hated her just because she was different. 

In fact, to a greater or lesser extent, everyone wonders what other people think 

of them and whether they look stupid or not. I used to think that way all the 

time. But now, I’m trying to please myself instead of pleasing others. I don’t 

want to be like that, because I will lose myself if I try to please everyone. 



154 155

ESILA NAZ ILGIN 

MELIS AKAR, TEACHER 


To me, courage isn’t demonstrated by saying, only by doing. One day, in my 

Turkish literature class, our teacher asked who would want to memorize and 

perform the national anthem. No one wanted to recite the entire anthem, and 

they thought it would be embarrassing. I thought that I could perform the 

anthem, but I was afraid that my friends would say, “You can’t do it, you would 

get scared, and you can’t memorize it.” Nevertheless, I raised my hand and 

volunteered. Our teacher was very happy. 

“AS EVERYONE STARTED 

CLAPPING, I GOT 

VERY EXCITED. I AM 

SO HAPPY THAT I 

WAS COURAGEOUS 

THAT DAY.” 

Immediately, I started practicing, even though I had only one day. I already 

knew the first three stanzas. I continued reciting when I got home. I successfully 

memorized the first eight stanzas, but no matter what I did, I couldn’t 

remember the last two. I started crying as I tried memorizing a single word 

for fifteen minutes. 

Then it was the day of my performance. I took my place on stage and 

immediately started trembling. The whole school was suddenly staring at me, 

watching my every move. But I got courageous and recited the national 

anthem. As everyone started clapping, I got very excited. I am so happy that 

I was courageous that day. You shouldn’t be afraid to show courage, either; 

courage isn’t through what’s said, it’s through what’s done. 



156 157

KEREM ALCO 

EMIR MENDA, TEACHER 


I was still in elementary school, and it was the first day of the holiday. I felt 

relaxed when school closed for vacation. But in the evening, I felt a chill inside. 

I thought reading would help, so I started a book and fell asleep. I woke up 

easily, had breakfast, played games, studied, and then it was evening again, 

and the fear came back. I read a book, but it didn’t help. Then, I read another 

one and fell asleep again. When I woke up, it was still dark, and I felt the chill 

again. I tried to sleep and succeeded. 

“EVEN THE FIRST TEN 

MINUTES WERE VERY 

SCARY. BUT THEN, I 

GOT USED TO IT.” 

When it got light, I got up and had breakfast. I started thinking: Why do I only 

feel this chill in the dark? Why not in the light of morning? When I told my parents, 

they said it was possible to be afraid of the dark. It made sense to me, but I 

wanted it to go away. So, I started researching how to overcome it. I found 

different methods and chose five to try. None of them worked. 

Then my mom suggested a way: stay in the dark for ten minutes longer each 

day. At first, this idea seemed scary and impossible, but I said, “Okay, let’s try.” 

Even the first ten minutes were very scary. But then, I got used to it. Nights 

even started to get fun. That day, I realized that courage is the strongest 

medicine, of course, for those who know how to use it. 



158 159

ABDULLAH OMAR 

DR. AISHA THAWAB AND MOHAMMED DHIAB, TEACHERS 

Al-Abbas Primary School, Hajjah Governorate, Yemen 

Courage, in my opinion, is facing the situations we encounter in life, no matter 

how difficult, with determination, resilience, and strong will. I came into this 

world as mute, unable to speak, and I began to communicate with others 

through sign language. Adding to my struggles, my father, mother, and siblings 

also suffer from the same condition; none of us can speak. I noticed a sense of 

despair in those who shared my situation, with some resorting to begging and 

relying on the help of others, rather than attending school. It made me reflect 

on my own future and wonder if I would end up like them. This question 

marked the beginning of my search for a solution to my circumstances. 

The first step I decided to take was to learn sign language, so I could 

communicate with others and attend school. After learning the basics of sign 

language, I fulfilled my first dream and went to school. I had some fears, but at 

school, I met fellow students and teachers. I was delighted with this new world 

as I began my education, especially when I was able to teach some of the 

teachers and students sign language. I won’t deny that I missed out on many 

things at school due to my disability, but I was given an opportunity that many 

like me may never have. 

“I WON’T DENY THAT I 

MISSED OUT ON MANY 

THINGS AT SCHOOL 

DUE TO MY DISABILITY, 

BUT I WAS GIVEN AN 

OPPORTUNITY THAT 

MANY LIKE ME MAY 

NEVER HAVE.” 

Teacher Mariam, and everyone who stood by my side as I overcame my 

disability. Today, I realize that if I had given up, I would have been confined 

to my home, waiting for someone to assist and pity me, and becoming a 

burden on society. 

One day, I heard about an organization called Abs Development Organization 

for Woman and Child that created supportive spaces for people like me by 

providing psychological support. I hesitated at first, and when I entered the 

space, I encountered some difficulties. However, over time, I adapted and even 

grew fond of the place. I enjoyed sitting with my teacher, Teacher Mariam, 

because she encouraged me and treated me like any other student. She taught 

me a lot of sign language, which boosted my self-confidence. I no longer feared 

discussions, and the students began accepting me. I started engaging in games 

with them, and my love for school and the supportive space grew. I formed 

friendships with fellow students and neighbors, and my academic performance 

improved. I achieved good rankings and occasionally tried to help my classmates. 

One of the most beneficial outcomes of what I have done is the change that 

occurred in my parents and siblings, which I take pride in. They learned sign 

language, and our lives changed for the better. They began telling me that I 

would continue my education all the way to university, which was something 

they never thought possible. I will always be grateful to those who encouraged 

and supported me, including my parents, fellow students, Abs Organization, 



160 161

EKRAM MOHAMMED 

HAIFA AL-JABOBI AND ZAMZAM AL-MOAYAD, TEACHERS 

Soudah School, Sana’a Governorate, Yemen 

Courage is a beautiful trait that distinguishes people and helps them gain 

acceptance in society. It also helps people stand with the truth and defend the 

oppressed to ensure they receive their rights. I had an experience that I believe 

is related to courage. 

I study at Soudah School, where I have a dear friend who suffers from visual 

impairment and cannot see anything. Despite this, she has determination to 

continue her education. I made a decision to assist her and accompany her 

when she walks to school, and also during crowded times when leaving the 

school. She is a beautiful girl who constantly expresses gratitude towards me, 

and I can sense her happiness when she arrives at school. I have gotten used 

to leaving home early in the morning to meet her and go to school with her. 

On the way, she tells me about her aspirations and her love for others. She 

wishes to wake up one day and find herself able to see everything, but she 

firmly believes that her illness is a wise decree from God for reasons only 

He knows, and she is content with what God has assigned to her. 

“COURAGE IS A 

BEAUTIFUL TRAIT THAT 

DISTINGUISHES PEOPLE 

AND HELPS THEM 

GAIN ACCEPTANCE 

IN SOCIETY.” 

that it wouldn’t happen again and felt relieved and happy that she accepted 

their apology. After that incident, we all supported her, had conversations with 

her, and encouraged her. I hope we remain together until we finish university. 

On one particular day, as we were descending the school stairs during a 

crowded moment with students from all grades, we were moving very slowly, 

to the point where we caused even more congestion. I overheard some students 

mocking my visually impaired friend in loud voices. I tried to speak to her 

loudly so she wouldn’t hear what was being said about her, but she heard 

everything. I felt saddened by her sadness, which was evident on her face. 

I didn’t know what to do at that moment, as I was confused. 

I decided to approach the students who had mocked my friend, and I asked 

to sit with them. I addressed them about the harm they caused to my friend 

through their bullying and about how they embarrassed her to the extent that 

she was considering leaving the school. I told them that such behavior was 

inappropriate towards their classmate. I asked them, “What if one of you had 

the disability? How would you feel about what happened?” I also asked them 

if they could guarantee that their health would remain as it is now, as 

circumstances can change, and any one of them could experience what our 

classmate has gone through. I told them that they should have respected and 

appreciated her, and they should have helped and encouraged her. They 

expressed deep regret and realized their mistake. They went to our classmate 

to apologize and seek her forgiveness for what happened. They promised her 



162 163

MASARRAH AL-SABER 

FAT-HIAH AQLAN, TEACHER 

Ajyal Al-Ula School, Ibb Governorate, Yemen 

In my opinion, bravery is not just how we deal with our own situations. It can 

also be our reactions to what we see in front of us and how we act upon them. 

This is what happened to me on a day I will never forget. 

I live in a small, beautiful, ancient city, Jiblah, with my family. One day, I 

woke up early to the sound of birds chirping, and the weather was lovely and 

clear. It rained, so my mother brought me a cup of hot milk. After drinking it, 

she asked me to go and get fresh bread from the bakery. I left the house, and 

on my way to the bakery, I saw an old blind man trying to cross the street to 

the other side. The street was crowded with cars, and the old man started 

crossing while feeling the ground with his cane. 

“I FELT LIKE I HAD 

DONE A BRAVE ACT BY 

SAVING THE OLD MAN.” 

I noticed a speeding car heading towards him, and without hesitation, I hurried 

towards him, raising my hand as a signal to the approaching car to stop. 

Thankfully, the car stopped, and I reached the old man, holding his hand and 

helping him cross to the other side of the street. He told me he wanted to reach 

the grocery store. I accompanied him to the place he wanted, and he thanked 

me after we arrived. I then headed back to the neighborhood. 

Afterwards, I went to the bakery to buy bread. On my way back home, I 

realized that I was running late and that my mother would be worried about 

me. I started walking faster to reach home. When I entered the house, my 

mother started yelling, asking why I was late, and demanding an explanation. 

I sat with my mother and explained what had happened with the old man. 

I told her that I was afraid the car might hit him, and I couldn’t find anyone 

on the street to help him, so I decided to assist him myself. I also reminded 

her that she taught my siblings and me that we should always help the elderly. 

I was delayed because I escorted him to his destination. 

My mother hugged me and said she was sorry. She told me that I did a good 

deed, and that this was how she raised me, to help anyone in need on the 

street, whether they are older people, children, or anyone else who needs our 

assistance. I went to my room feeling proud of myself. I felt like I had done a 

brave act by saving the old man. I shared what happened with my friends and 

teachers, and everyone praised my actions. 



164 165

MOHAMMED HANI 

ELHAM AL-ASH-HAB, TEACHER 

Al-Qairawan School, Sana’a Governorate, Yemen 

I study at Al-Qairawan School in Sana’a. I have good friends and classmates 

there, and I love playing football with them. 

My family is going through difficult circumstances, like all Yemeni families after 

the war and the siege. Our economic situation is deteriorating, and we can 

barely afford our needs for living. I felt that my hands were tied and couldn’t do 

anything to change our situation, so I constantly thought about a business that 

could help us deal with our daily and educational expenses without affecting 

my studies. 

I came up with an idea that suited the area where we live on the outskirts of the 

city. We bought some sheep, which we shepherded and fed. Then, we sold them 

at a good price. With the profits, we bought more sheep, and so on. 

After each school day, I take them to the pasture, sit next to them, and study my 

lessons. It brings me happiness to be with the sheep, but this project makes me 

feel both happy and sad. I’m happy because of the friendships I develop with 

the sheep and the income they provide us to cope with life’s burdens, but I get 

sad when it’s time to sell them and leave them. 

From this experience, I’ve learned patience, perseverance, and endurance. 

I’ve also learned about trade and cooperation. I’ve grown fond of the sheep, 

and I have two dogs that accompany me to the pasture to guard and assist me 

in managing the sheep. 

“FROM THIS 

EXPERIENCE, I’VE 

LEARNED PATIENCE, 

PERSEVERANCE, AND 

ENDURANCE.” 

I know that after a while, I will leave this work. But for now, it’s the only source 

of help for us. My work as a shepherd is solely for the purpose of facing life’s 

expenses. God willing, I will graduate and find a job where I can better support 

my family. 

When I’m at home with my mother, I help her with household chores like 

washing and cooking. I also go to the market to buy household necessities. This 

work makes me feel proud and satisfied. In my free time, I also sell tissue paper 

in the neighborhood, which has improved our financial situation and helped 

me continue my education. 

I know it’s tough, but with enough determination and willpower, I can endure 

and overcome difficulties, and balance between studying, work, and all of my 

other obligations without any dereliction. 

This business has also helped us provide milk and ghee. When we need money, 

we sell one of the sheep to cover medical expenses, household needs, and 

education costs. 

During shepherding, I encounter situations that require courage, like chasing a 

stray sheep or dealing with a lost one. I try to learn how to communicate with 

them to gain control. I remember one day, I fell seriously ill and stayed at home 

for days, suffering from the illness until I recovered. I faced the illness with 

courage and patience, which I learned from shepherding the sheep. 



166 167

NADA HANI 

TALAL SALEH, EBTIHAL SALEH, AND FATIMA MUBARAK, TEACHERS 

Khadigah School, Hadhramaut Governorate, Yemen 

My family circumstances forced me to go with my mother to live with her 

relatives in a rural area in Abyan Governorate. We lived in a remote village 

where illiteracy and difficult living conditions were the main challenges. I was 

seven years old at that time and studying in the second grade. Initially, I didn’t 

like life there, and I would cry and long for my old city, my school, and my 

family. Over time, I started to adapt to the village and continued my education 

until I reached the fifth grade. 

But then came the fateful day when the villagers woke up to screams and loud 

noises. Everyone wondered what had happened. We learned shortly after that 

an armed group had surrounded the village. It was an old story of vengeance 

that claimed my uncle’s life a decade before. Now, one of the armed group’s 

members sought revenge for his relative’s death. Within hours, the relatives of 

the slain man arrived, surrounding our village in search of their son’s killer. 

Masked men carrying weapons spread out and began shooting at children, 

women, and men. Fear and panic gripped every household in our village. 

“I NEVER LOST HOPE, AND THE 

FLAME OF KNOWLEDGE CONTINUED 

TO BURN WITHIN ME.” 

In conclusion, I pray to God to improve the situation in our country and to 

bless our people with security and peace. May harmful and destructive 

behaviors, such as vengeance and illiteracy, come to an end. These factors 

hinder progress and development, threatening the security and tranquility 

of society. I hope that the light of knowledge reaches every home in our 

homeland, because knowledge is the key to progress. With it, both dignified 

life and the prosperity of nations are achieved. 

Difficult moments passed, until our people started defending us and repelling 

the attacks of the aggressive tribe. The battle intensified, and my uncle, whom 

I loved and respected, was killed while trying to save his injured son from a 

gunshot. There were casualties on the other side as well. The attackers 

withdrew, but tensions remained between the two tribes. 

As a result of this conflict, education was greatly affected. Schools were closed, 

depriving many students, including myself, of their right to education. My 

aspirations were shattered, and my dreams of studying and learning were lost 

for nearly four years. 

Eventually, circumstances changed in my favor, and we moved to the city. I 

never lost hope, and the flame of knowledge continued to burn within me. Yes, 

hope lingered in me once again as I returned to studying in the sixth grade and 

persevered until I completed it successfully. And now, I am studying in the 

seventh grade with dedication and diligence. I will not retreat until I achieve 

my dreams and aspirations. The more I remember those difficult years, the 

more determined I become to achieve success and become a productive 

individual in my society. 



168 169

SUNG TAO HOUR 

PHALLA OL, TEACHER 

The Cambridge School, Kampong Cham Province, Cambodia 

When I was eight years old, I started to study at primary school. Sometimes 

I went to school with an empty stomach, and sometimes I ate very little 

breakfast because my family couldn’t afford to make enough for everyone. 

Even though that happened often in my childhood, I still pushed myself to 

go to school every day. 

At school, the teacher always began class with the previous lesson and asked 

some questions. Some of the students raised their hands to answer, but I didn’t, 

because I wasn’t good at learning, so I often didn’t know how to answer. When 

the teacher asked me why I didn’t raise my hand, I replied that it was because 

I didn’t know any of the answers. And everyone just laughed out loud at me. 

When recess time came, some students looked down on me. I told myself I must 

not give up. When I arrived home, I asked my mother, “Why do people like 

looking down on me?” My mother told me not to care when people say bad 

words to me. Since then, I have told myself that I must overcome my laziness 

and try to remember all the lessons every day at school. Even though I went 

through many obstacles at school and faced many more after that, I told myself 

that I wouldn’t give up! 

“I BECAME SKILLFUL 

IN LEARNING THE 

DHARMA AFTER 

THOSE EARLY DAYS OF 

STRUGGLE. THIS IS 

WHAT MY COURAGE 

WAS AND IS.” 

I have tried to study the dharma prayers for four years now. I became skillful in 

learning the dharma after those early days of struggle. This is what my courage 

was and is. Courage made me exert much effort, try hard, and beat all the 

obstacles, no matter how big or small they were. I know now that I can 

overcome anything with my effort for sure. 

When I turned thirteen years old, I decided to become a monk and live in a 

pagoda, because I wished to be grateful to my parents and honor them in this 

way. After a few days of monkhood life, the head monk taught me and the other 

monks how to say the prayers. He limited the number of days we had to 

memorize the prayers, and when the day came to speak them, I couldn’t 

remember them all. So the head monk hit me three times. I was so ashamed in 

front of the other monks. I got punished every day until I could remember all 

the prayer lessons. 

I went to ask my mother if I could quit monkhood at the pagoda, but my 

parents didn’t allow me to do so. They said, “Joining the monkhood has to be 

like this, my dear.” I thought a long time about all of this, and then I 

understood something about myself. I told myself that I must not give up! I 

must overcome this obstacle, I must overcome my laziness no matter how great 

the obstacles, I must be brave, and I must make great efforts to study in the 

monkhood for a long time. 



170 171

KHON DALIS 

PHALLA OL, TEACHER 

The Cambridge School, Kampong Cham Province, Cambodia 

I was a student who was very weak in my studies. My family finances are not 

very large, so we don’t have enough money to spend on breakfast daily. I 

always tell myself to have the courage to study with goodwill and to make good 

plans or goals. Even though my family doesn’t have a lot of money, after 

school, I always have the courage to help my mom do the chores to relieve her 

from that work. 

There is a pagoda a little far from my home. It’s called the Tol Tol pagoda. 

The head monk there helps teach English for free in classes after school. 

Because my family is poor, we can’t afford to buy a bike, so I must walk to 

school and to my lessons at the pagoda, about six miles every day. I also 

wanted to help my mom to save more to support the family needs instead of 

buying a bike, so I committed myself to set a goal of walking to study English 

at that pagoda after school and chores. 

“COURAGE HAS 

TRANSFORMED ME 

INTO TRUSTING MY 

OWN SELF. NO MATTER 

HOW BIG OR SMALL 

MY PROBLEMS ARE, I 

CAN DO ANYTHING.” 

It has been almost a month that I’ve been learning like this, because I trusted 

myself, and I have the courage to be very patient to walk to the pagoda every 

day after I finish my classes at school. It’s late, so it’s usually dark when I walk, 

without even a flashlight. I am always very thirsty because of the long, hot 

road. But it doesn’t matter; that’s okay for me, because I beat my fear of 

walking in the dark. That is my courageous energy. This made me brave 

enough to reach my goal of taking classes in the pagoda. Courage has 

transformed me into trusting my own self. No matter how big or small my 

problems are, I can do anything. But I should do it in a good and positive way 

only. Good deeds are righteous ones. That courage will bring me to success 

one day in the future. 



172 173

VIVIENNE LEIJDEKKER 

DAWN AUSTIN, TEACHER 

American School of Barcelona, Barcelona, Spain 

For me, courage is doing something difficult, even if it frightens you. 

Courageous acts are difficult to put into words, as they are very complex. 

Courage comes in all different shapes and sizes, and one is not more important 

than another. Courage can only truly be achieved if you work for it. In my 

personal experience, courage can take a long time to achieve. It’s not always 

something that happens overnight. 

When I was in the fourth grade, my parents told me I would be moving to 

Barcelona. I was devastated. I had to move away from the place I had been in 

for so long. I asked my parents countless times, “But why do we have to move?!” 

Their answer was the same every time. “Your dad found work there, and it’ll 

be better there.” It hurt to hear. California was the first place I had stayed in 

for long enough to grow comfortable and love my home, making the move 

much more difficult. In other places we had lived, our stays only lasted one or 

two years until the dreaded “your father has a job in that place” came into 

play, and we had to move, and it was back to the beginning again. 

I never understood why I had to move just because my parents wanted to. 

However, to my dismay, a nine-year-old girl didn’t seem to have enough power 

to change the moving plans of her whole family. Settling into our new home 

was difficult, and I never felt comfortable. Boring days rolled by for what 

seemed to be endless weeks, until it was the day before school would start. 

“You’ll do great. Everyone will love you!” My mother told me. 

But how would you know? I thought, the knot which had made itself comfortable 

in my stomach over the past few weeks growing tighter. 

Sitting on my bed in my new, bare room, which was lined with unopened boxes 

and a feeling of unfamiliarity, I felt sick with worry. Even though my new room 

wasn’t cold at all, especially considering it was summer, I shivered. I didn’t quite 

know how to think about our move. It was painful and hard, and I was 

struggling to find comfort in our new house. Will I ever? I thought. 

“I WAS SCARED, BUT I 

WAS ALSO CAPABLE OF 

GETTING THROUGH 

THE YEAR. I COULD 

BE COURAGEOUS, 

JUST LIKE EVERYONE 

ELSE COULD, TOO.” 

The next morning dragged by so slowly, that at times, it felt like time had been 

stopped. I didn’t mind, though; the thought of going to a new school seemed 

like a dream. We left for the school, and when we arrived, I stared at the gates 

for a while, refusing to move. I gazed at the metal door, thinking of the long 

year ahead of me. 

Then, I was ready. I took a long, deep breath. I searched myself for any 

bravery, any small piece of courage, and I found it, easier than I expected. I 

wasn’t sure if this year would go perfectly, but I knew that I could get past it. 

A girl looked at me. She smiled at me, looking nervous and brave. I smiled 

back, and I realized that I was just like everyone else. I was scared, but I was 

also capable of getting through the year. I could be courageous, just like 

everyone else could, too. 

From this moment, I learned that courage is so much more than just facing 

fears. Courage can be anything, from riding the scariest ride in a theme park, 

to just saying, “I’m sorry.” The meaning of courage is complicated and 

different for everyone, but that doesn’t mean one opinion is wrong or right. 

Perhaps, courage doesn’t have to have one real definition. It can just be: 

courage. A small word with a big meaning. 

My mom peeked through the door and smiled before telling me again that I 

would “do so great” in this new school. “People will love you, and you’ll make 

so many new friends,” she said. My stomach flipped again. It felt like an order. 



174 175

The Max Warburg Courage Curriculum is a yearlong 

language arts program dedicated to strengthening the 

social-emotional learning and literacy skills of students. 

Since the organization’s inception in 1991, the Courage 

Curriculum and Courage in My Life National Essay 

Contest have enhanced the academic performance, 

critical thinking skills, and essential knowledge of more 

than 200,000 sixth grade students in the Boston Public 

Schools and in local parochial, charter, pilot, and private 

schools, as well as in schools in 28 states across the 

country and in 16 countries worldwide. 


This book shares the stories of 79 brave children from the city of Boston and 

surrounding communities, and from schools across the country and around the 

globe. The first story is about Max Warburg, a sixth grader whose steadfast 

determination and heartfelt hope in the face of his battle with leukemia is the 

inspiration behind The Max Warburg Courage Curriculum. The essays that 

follow are written by current middle school students who have discovered, 

recognized, and come to celebrate the courage in their lives. 

Northeastern University is proud to join with The 

Max Warburg Courage Curriculum in a partnership to 

strengthen the social-emotional learning and literacy 

skills of sixth grade students in Boston and beyond. 

Visit our website 

to learn more: 

The Max Warburg Courage Curriculum 

at Northeastern University 

263 Huntington Avenue, Box 366 

Boston, Massachusetts 02115 

617.373.7399 www.maxcourage.org

The Courage of Children: Boston and Beyond XXXIII

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