1. Reflecrtions Lit_Layout 1 9/13/12 10:40 AM Page 1
Award of Excellence
“Because the boy in the story is different
than everybody else. And his friend helps
show his class it’s OK.”
Literature
I’m Different
Abigail Blair
Second Grade, Sierra View Elementary
School
Thirteenth District
There was a boy named Kyle. He was
new to Sierra View. Everyone made fun of
him because he was different. Everyone
except Melissa. They were in third grade
together. One day Max laughed at Kyle at
lunch. Kyle started crying. At recess Max
kicked Kyle. Melissa took him to the
nurse. Back in class the other kids were
working on math. The teacher said it is
okay for people to be different. Just like
numbers, every number is different. The
next day at school some boys asked Kyle
to play with them. Kyle was glad to have
more friends. Everyone noticed that
different was okay. Different is fun!!

2. Reflecrtions Lit_Layout 1 9/13/12 10:40 AM Page 2
Award of Excellence
“This story is about how I have learned
that diversity is a very cool thing!”
Literature
Being Different is Cool!
Daniel Roman
Fourth Grade, Margaret R. Sellers Elementary School
First District
Being Different Is Cool! Hello. My name is Daniel Roman and I am nine and a
half years old. I live in Glendora, California with my mom and dad. I also have
two older sisters who are in college. I am in the fourth grade at Sellers
Elementary School. My teacher’s name is Mrs. Fallon.
To me diversity means that it’s okay to be different. I think I knew what diversity
meant long before I ever heard the word. You see I have autism. Having autism
has always made me different from other children. I get bothered by loud noises
or tags in my clothes that make me itch. It is very hard for me to look at people in
the eye, and I don’t like it when anything at school or home does not follow the
usual routine. I go to a lot of programs to help me learn how to do things that
other kids just know how to do automatically like telling jokes.
It was when I was in the second grade that I first noticed I was different from
other kids. This is when I started to learn about diversity. At that time I didn’t like
being different. I thought that no one would ever think I was cool. I just didn’t
know how to talk to other kids about anything other than American history or Star
Wars. I also got teased sometimes because I was different.
Now two years later with a lot of help from my family and teachers I don’t think of
diversity as a bad thing anymore. Now I think it is a good thing. It makes every
kid special in their own way. I know that all kids have some things that are hard
for them.
Because I know that being different can be hard, I always try to be nice to other
kids who may be feeling like I used to. My cousin Asilbek who comes from
Kazakhstan has cerebral palsy. This makes it hard for him to run and play. I
always try to make sure and say something nice to him and include him in games
I am playing. I know what it feels like to be different.
I will always have autism and so I may always be different in some ways.
However, I never want people to feel sorry for me. I think that having autism will
teach me to be strong and learn how to overcome challenges. My mom told me
about a woman named Temple Grandin. Temple Grandin had autism yet became
a famous scientist. Some people didn’t like Martin Luther King Jr. because of the
color of his skin. These heroes helped me to learn that diversity is a good thing.
I have learned how to feel good about myself and not let other people make me
feel bad. I can be cool and at the same time tell you anything you want to know
about American history.
My message is that diversity means it’s okay to be different. It will be nice
someday when everyone is accepted for who they are and we all realize that
diversity is a good thing. It makes each one of us special!

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Award of Excellence
“My essay is about how diversity means many things. It also
Literature shows that diversity is everywhere. The title explains how
people are making an impact across the world, with their
Fingerprints Across the World unique fingerprints of their hands.”
Sonia Sachar
Eighth Grade, Horner Junior High School
Peralta District While Chaoxiang, is from a Chinese background, wears a jade
around his neck, and likes to study and do puzzles. Fatima wants to
I despised my history class. Every day, I felt like I was forced to be a children’s book writer, while Chaoxiang aspires to be a doctor.”
learn about events that happened too long ago for me to care about I moved to the other side of the class room, “Shreya is from an
or people who had no impact on my life. One day, while I was half- Indian background, wears henna on her hands on special holidays,
asleep at my desk and waiting for the bell to ring, my teacher asked and likes to sing. Pedro, is from a Mexican descent, wears hand-
the class, “How can you change the world?” My class looked around stitched pants and natural fibered shirts, and loves to play water
confused, as this was such a foreign, unknown topic. “Think about polo. Shreya wants to be an engineer while Pedro wants to be a
this question, and tomorrow we can discuss our ideas.” I didn’t pay lawyer.
attention to anything else my teacher said, as I was very intrigued I moved to the center of the class, and said “As you can see, our
with that question. What do I do to change the world? class is very diverse. By being ourselves, voicing our opinions, and
That afternoon, I could not stop thinking about how I change the representing our heritage, we already change the world. And what
world. My role models, my parents, and my idols all impacted the does diversity mean? Well, it means being who you are and
world and contributed to its history. But me? I felt like I just lived but anything you wish to be. As the famous believer Ghandi said ‘Be the
never really changed the world in any way, shape, or form. When change you want to see in the world’.” I was acknowledged with a
my grandma came back from the supermarket, she asked me,” big round of applause and a proud comment from my teacher,
What’s the matter?” I quickly responded by telling her my saying that my topic of changing the world was meaningful and
assignment and how I could not figure out how to change the world. understandable.
She knowingly nodded, and sat down next to me. Diversity has many different aspects. It changes the world, depicts
“Give me your hand,” she told me. A little confused I gave her my who we are, and explains how we live. We each are different, but
hand. She traced my hand and soothingly massaged it. She slowly when we come together we learn about each other’s differences
brought her hand and my hand together. and become a whole. We are all different, as we have different
appearances, clothes, and races. However, this is only a part of the
“Look at your hand and my hand, and tell me what you see,” she definition of diversity. The true meaning of diversity is the magic that
said. I stared at our hands and said they were the same. happens when a group of different people come together to learn, to
“No,” she shook her head. “Look again child,” she spoke. Again I solve a problem, to talk and to be there for each other. As we hold
looked and this time I saw that her hand was a much lighter color, our hands, we connect ourselves to learn, to accept, and to support
had longer fingers, and had deep lines cutting through her palm. I our differences.
compared it to mine, which was darker, stubbier, and had fine lines. Diversity is beauty. The diversity in people is their beauty. The faults
Bewildered I asked, “How...?” that we may perceive to be ugly are actually beautiful. As Scott
She responded with an explanation. “No matter how much we are Westerfeld said in his book, Uglies, “What you do, the way you
related, we are all diverse in some way; every single individual is think, make you beautiful.” Whether it’s a hand glove, a henna
diverse,” she taught me. My grandma then went to check the oven, tattoo, or different nail polish, our hands are the key to our diverse
leaving me confused about how diversity was related to changing personality.
the world. Finally it dawned on me that they were indeed deeply Being diverse allows you to be comfortable in your own skin and to
intertwined. trust yourself and your friends. Many teenagers can’t show their
The next day, my teacher asked us if we had any thoughts on how individualism or their diversity, because we have too much pressure.
we could change the world. Timidly, I raised my hand and said, “Just We have pressure to fit in our society, pressure to be popular, and
by being diverse, we are impacting the world. Diversity has many pressure to fight bullying. When we hide our true selves, we are
definitions. Diversity means changing the world, being different, lying to ourselves, because we are pretending to be who we are not.
being a different race, and living life differently. Our individual This leaves us with barely any trust or no trust in ourselves and our
diversity makes us who we are. Every step we take, every judgment friends.
we make, and every conclusion we draw shapes our unique Diversity means being comfortable in your skin, trusting yourself and
identities. For example, if you compare my grandmother’s hand to friends, being beautiful, being different together as a whole, and
my hand, our hands may look the same, but they are extremely being who you are. As we hold our hands, we unite not only our
different. In fact, every single person has a truly unique fingerprint. fingers, but our diversity too. We come together to be ourselves,
Our hands are symbolic of our individualism; we all have different comfortable in our skin and our trust. With every finger tingling
skin colors, different interests, and different appearances.” another, we connect our inner beauty and our willingness to grow,
My voice grew louder and I began to gaze at my fellow classmates. I learn, and expand our differences. We, the people of the different
pointed to my classmate, Fatima, and said “Fatima is from a Muslim nations and different races, control how we change the world, how
descent, wears a hijab around her head, and likes to read and write. we depict ourselves, and how we live.

4. Reflecrtions Lit_Layout 1 9/13/12 10:40 AM Page 4
Award of Excellence
“My short story tells the tale of a young girl who feels
ashamed of being different, yet also conflicted because she is
Literature
proud of her hobby of Indian dancing. With her friends, she
discovers that being unique is what makes life interesting.
Unique
Suzanne Donahue Later that day, Sita was eating lunch with Lisa and her other friends,
Tenth Grade, Laguna Hills High School, Fourth District Melody and Nadine, when Lisa continued to beg Sita to perform. Sita
thought of all the different variations of the word “no” that she could possibly
Sita danced. She spent long, grueling hours in her teacher’s garage after recall, but instead something surprising came out.
school Mondays through Saturdays while her friends went shopping or “You guys will think it’s weird,” Sita blurted out, then instantly closed her
watched television, the kind of things you’d expect a normal American girl to mouth and began silently picking at the pasta salad she had brought for
do. But Sita would never be a normal American girl, no matter the comfort lunch. For one long moment, her friends looked at each other and then right
she would feel if she were one. back at Sita in silence. Melody held her breath and looked as if she were
She was blue-eyed, with a golden yellow streak in her light brown hair. about to say something important, but she sighed and set her mouth in a
She didn’t look too different from the other girls at school, but she had tight line. Nadine brought her small hand to her chin and kept it there, as if
muscular legs, for which she was always careful to cover up. Her friends waiting for someone to say something. Sita was taken aback when she
knew she was a dancer, but Sita was not about to go into detail describing noticed that Lisa looked hurt.
her passion to her friends. She knew that they all assumed she was a “Okay, Sita,” Lisa began. “I’m just going to let the cat out of the bag. We
graceful ballerina, or maybe even some new-age type lyric dancer, but in know you’re an Indian dancer. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I watched one
reality she was much different. of those Bollywood movies a few years ago and I thought that the dancing
Sita performed Indian dance. She loved everything about it – telling a and the music was really cool, so I started talking to your mom about it, and
story with her hands and feet, wearing traditional dress from the sari to the she showed me an old video of your dance group performing. You have
bindi to the heavy jewelry, and even watching the sweat bead down her talent! Don’t let it go to waste just pretending that you’re exactly like
forehead as she practiced in Miss Shruti’s dusty old garage. There were few everyone else.”
things in the world that could make her happier than she felt after a great Sita was shocked. She could hardly even grasp the idea that she had
performance. spent so much time afraid that her friends would not accept her that she
Sita felt lucky to have her loving family, her friends, and her dance. Even didn’t even realize that they already had. Sita had tried to separate her
so, Sita felt she was missing something. It was strange to admit it, but dance from her normal life, assuming that the two were not to be mixed,
sometimes she wanted her friends to know who she really was. Most of the while her friends had been rooting for her all along. Accepting her lack of
time, however, Sita just wanted to fit in. faith in her friends and feeling rather ashamed, Sita began preparing a big
Sita tried so hard to be normal, but it seemed that every piece of her apology for hiding herself from them.
screamed out in protest. Even the name her adopted Indian parents gave “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it,” Sita began. “I guess I was afraid that
her put a distance between her and her friends. Sita’s name could hardly be you guys would think I’m really weird for liking something so ... different.
said with an American accent. She remembered that when she was in first Everyone at school seems to have the same cookie cutter hobbies and I just
grade, her parents had always corrected her friends when they attempted to felt alienated.”
say her name. Sita had cringed when they pointed out that the “t” in her “You think we’re all the same?” Melody cut in. “We’re all strange! Take
name was too heavy and clumsy when others pronounced it. She had me, for example. I knit. No one our age does it, but it’s actually a lot of fun.
oftentimes wondered why she couldn’t have just been an Emily or a Jane. And Lisa, she’s really great at singing opera, believe it or not. I heard her
Sita wasn’t embarrassed by her identity or her Indian dance, she told myself. I bet she’s been had voice lessons for years, and she’s been afraid
herself. She was just afraid that her friends would find her strange for loving to tell us, just like you were.”
such a foreign thing as Indian dance. That’s why she walked right past the “Melody!” Lisa replied. “I can’t believe you brought that up now. Okay, I
Westchester High Talent Show signup sheet posted on the door of her have had a few lessons, but that’s beside the point. Sita, what we’re trying to
chemistry classroom without so much as a glance. She and her friend Lisa say is that we love you for who you are, so we have to love everything that
strolled right past the poster into the classroom and sat down without a makes you different. People would be so boring if they didn’t have anything
word. They were exhausted, as usual for a Monday in March. that made them unique.”
Sita was setting her notebook and her neat array of colorful pens on her “Unique,” Sita thought aloud. “Sounds like a good title for the dance I’m
desk when Lisa brought up the talent show. going to choreograph for the talent show!”
“You know, Sita, I’ve never seen you dance,” Lisa said, motioning toward Melody, Lisa, and Nadine squealed in unison.
the colorful poster with a smug look on her face. “You spend all of your time “But,” Sita continued. “You’re going to have to do it with me. We can do a
on it, and no one at school even knows how hard you work! I think this is mixture of everything-Indian, hip hop, all kinds of dance mixed into one. I’m
your chance.” only going to do it if you guys do!”
“What, the talent show? No. Not a chance. Nope,” Sita answered flatly. “I’m in,” Nadine said, followed shortly after by Melody and Lisa.
“Will you at least think about it?” Two weeks later, the four girls took the stage at the Westchester High
“Alright ... no.” Talent Show. They wore hip hop sweats in different colors and started the
“Please?” show off dancing to the pop hits. Halfway through the song, each of the girls
Sita looked at her friend and shook her head. If Lisa knew what kind of ripped off their sweats to show a sari beneath. They transitioned from hip
dancing she did, Sita was sure that Lisa would not want her to show it off to hop to ballet to something even resembling an Irish dance, until finally Sita
everyone. To other kids, her makeup would seem overdone, her outfit began her Indian dance. She smiled wide and danced without a hint of self-
strange, and her dancing grotesque. She was sure of it. doubt. When the four girls took a bow, they were met with a standing
Yet, there was a part of her that wanted to let go. She wanted to complain ovation. It seemed that everyone in the audience had something to relate to
to her friends about how long it took to apply a henna tattoo or how in their dance, whether it was the contemporary or traditional elements.
impossible it was to balance all of her body weight on only a few of her toes When the girls accepted their first place prize, Sita took a look at her best
for dance. She wanted to give her friends tickets to see her next friends, thinking about everything she had learned about life and herself in
performance at the Los Angeles Cultural Museum and accept flowers from the past few weeks. She and her friends were four different girls who each
them afterward. But there was always something that kept her from doing had something to share. They balanced each other out, creating a blend of
those things. experiences and cultures. They were unique.