Our perception of the things around us is formed and molded by each of our individual experiences and memories. In a world with over 7 billion people, we share more similarities with each other than we do differences and it is ultimately our minds that distinguish ourselves from each other. The memories, experiences, and thoughts of one provide a window into their world. A brief but informative look into the mind of someone else. How is what I see different from what you do? Near everything we see and do determine that answer so it’s hard to sum it all up, no matter how many fragments we try to provide, but some things do offer better insight into our lives than others.

The mask is only one of many symbolic items ever present in my life. As it’s something I see every day it serves as a reminder of a very important moment for me. This mask is directly associated with one of my earliest memories as a child and the first memory I have of listening to music with my father. My father helped spark my deep love for hip-hop, reggae, and rap music as he made music of his own and whether it was his or someone else’s, the music seemed to always be playing in my home. The mask is more or less a logo for the artist we were listening to.

As someone who does not see their father nearly as much as they wish, the mask serves as a reminder of him and what he has done for me but also it reminds me of where I’ve been and how little I’ve really changed. My love for music is a very important part of both my character and my history and seeing this mask hung above my bed every morning and every night ensures that I’ll never forget that.

Similar to the mask, this poster means much more to me than just serving as some graphic hung up in our living room. Given to us as a gift by a family friend who lives in Spain, it is almost a point of motivation between the members of my household. My mother is the most hardworking person I know, often working 60,70, or even 80 hours a week if need be. All the while trying to make the best out of the situation we have. It has always been a dream of ours to visit Spain and every time it seems that that is even a possibility, we are thrown back to square one with no hopes of making it.

If someday we do end up going, it will be the light at the end of the tunnel that my mother has worked for all her life. It would be a testament to the trials and tribulations that we have overcome and would ultimately set the bar for what it is that we can do as a family. The poster is a sign of hard work and dedication. The work my mother has put into accomplishing her goals keeps me motivated and reminds me that hard work pays off even when it seems like it won’t.

These handlebars don’t represent my proudest moment but an important one none the less. Biking is probably one of the more convenient modes of transport for me. Especially in the summer when I’m frequently home alone and without a ride, it is really my only way of getting around. These engravings are the result of a rather clumsy crash involving me texting while riding down hill unaware that a car was directly behind me. Long story short I slammed on my brakes realizing the car was there and flipped off my bike. Had the circumstances been any different and had the man in the car not been an ER surgeon on his way to work, the situation might have been much worse. Especially considering that I wasn’t wearing a helmet.

Now as punishment on top on top of the physical injuries, I am forever reminded of my poor choices. It is a grim but honest realization that things can go wrong at any moment. Mistakes and poor choices are best avoided but tolerable as long as they are not repeated.

In times where it feels like everything else is working against me, I still have my bed to sleep in. Although it’s been something that I don’t get much of lately, sleep is very important to me. It is a brief break in the seemingly endless cycle of grueling and stressful days. It is almost like a no-man’s land between the anxious chaotic mess that has been school and somewhere far nicer. Sleep usually proves itself to be perfectly mediocre but it still feels like a vacation in comparison to school.

Dreams have always been a point of interest for me. They are a strange and distorted view upon the world around us, mutated and changed by our memories and perception, ranging from abstract to oddly realistic. In a certain sense, I feel as though as dreams provide just as much insight into one’s mind and character as writing or photographs. I have always seemed to remember my dreams even from a young age. Many of which I can still recall quite clearly. I often wondered what they all meant, if anything at all. Overtime the individual significance of my dreams has diminished but to say that as a whole they have not affected me wouldn’t be true. It’s hard to explain how but I know they have in a way changed who I am.

This small hand held flag means more to me than almost anything else in the world. Given to me by my Grandfather, this is the flag of the Wakanasing Odawa. I spent a lot of time around my grandparents and great-grandparents as a child and I was constantly exposed to the inner-workings of native culture. Even though this is who I am and the culture I have lived in for so long, I still felt like I didn’t belong. For the longest time I have felt that I am only tolerated by others and accepted is because of who it is I am related to. Without them I feel like an outsider and a cast away, not welcome within their midst’s. As the older generation begins to die I feel as though my connection with my people fades with every passing day. Not in the sense that I have begun to not care but in the sense that when they are all gone that I will not be welcome. It is a slow and painful realization that I am losing connection with the people I care about most in this world. To me, this flag is a token of pride. A memory of my people and who I truly am. I will always be a part of that even if I am not accepted.