Mahnoor Ali Pervaiz

From the moment we enter this world until our last breath, we are presented with numerous opportunities and challenges to find purpose.

At every stage of our lives, we encounter various transitions. From the moment we enter this world until our last breath, we are presented with numerous opportunities and challenges to find purpose. Belonging. 

At the heart of the intricate tapestry of meaning-making across different stages of life lies an experience unique to each individual's own journey, personal to them.

This journey toward finding meaning in life often begins in early childhood. Research has shown that during this stage, children develop a sense of meaning through their interactions with caregivers, peers, and the world around them. The nurturing and supportive environment provided by parents and caregivers plays a crucial role in shaping a child's understanding of their purpose and values. For instance, growing up in Pakistan, alongside parents our extended family plays a crucial role in our primary socialization. They nurture our beliefs and teach us early on that meaning lies in respecting relationships and relying on family above all else. In Attachment Theory, John Bowlby further underscores the importance of secure attachments in early childhood. Children who form secure attachments with their caregivers tend to have a solid foundation for exploring the world, developing self-esteem, and ultimately finding meaning in their relationships.

At this early childhood stage, play is a vital component of development. Through such means, children experiment, learn, and make sense of their surroundings. Experiences at this stage are not only essential for cognitive development but also contribute to a child's understanding of their interests, preferences, and the world's intricacies. Many of our fears are also rooted in experiences from this time. On a trip to Malaysia in 2008, my chairlift got suspended 500 meters above ground, which meant dangling above ground from a thread in a glass box. For me, this blossomed into a fear of heights.

The next stage of the voyage of life is marked by an individual entering adolescence. At this stage we embark on a journey of self-discovery and identity formation. The phase is marked by heightened self-awareness, the exploration of values, and the search for meaning beyond the immediate family sphere. In the 21st century, this extends to media. In Psychosocial Development Theory, Erik Erikson characterizes adolescence as the conflict between identity and role confusion. Here we grapple with questions of who we are, what we believe in, and where we fit in society. The resolution of this conflict greatly influences their ability to find meaning in life. Alongside media, peer relationships become increasingly influential. Research indicates that adolescents often adopt values and beliefs from their peer groups. These influences can align with or challenge the values instilled during childhood, shaping the individual's sense of meaning and purpose. 

Early adulthood is a period of intense personal and professional development. Individuals typically focus on education, career advancement, and building meaningful relationships. In his  hierarchy of needs, Abraham Maslow suggests that individuals must satisfy basic physiological and safety needs before pursuing higher-level needs like belongingness and self-actualization. Early adulthood often revolves around pursuing these foundational needs, which are essential for a sense of stability and meaning.

Choosing a career or vocation is a significant aspect of early adulthood. Many succumb to social pressure, but those who stay steadfast in pursuing their own passion and align their career choices with their individual values are more likely to find meaning and satisfaction in their work. Volunteering and engaging in altruistic activities can add a sense of purpose beyond the professional realm.

Middle adulthood is a time of reflection and reevaluation. Individuals may reassess their goals, values, and life direction, often in response to changing family dynamics and personal experiences. In Erikson's aforementioned theory, middle adulthood is characterized by the conflict between generativity and stagnation. Generativity involves a sense of giving back to the community, nurturing the next generation, and leaving a legacy. Those who engage in generative activities experience greater meaning and life satisfaction. 

The concept of the midlife crisis is well-documented in popular culture. While not everyone experiences a crisis, middle adulthood is a time of reevaluation. Some individuals may reexamine their life choices and seek to realign them with their evolving values and aspirations. 

Following this, at the next stage, late adulthood, there is greater wisdom and reflection. As individuals age, they contemplate the meaning of their lives and the legacy they will leave behind. In Erikson's theory, the final stage of development, ego integrity versus despair, highlights the importance of reflecting on one's life with a sense of fulfillment and acceptance. Those who achieve ego integrity find meaning in the totality of their life experiences. Late adulthood provides opportunities to pass down wisdom and experiences to younger generations. Many individuals find meaning in mentoring, sharing their life stories, and contributing to their communities, leaving a lasting legacy. 

To gain a deeper understanding of the lifelong journey of meaning-making, 50 individuals from across the globe from various stages of life, interviewed for the study previously discussed, shared their experiences, shedding light on the intricate interplay between individual development and societal influences. Participants across generations emphasized the importance of storytelling in finding meaning. Sharing personal narratives allowed them to make sense of their experiences, connect with others, and transmit values to younger generations. Interviewees from different age groups highlighted shifting priorities in their quests for meaning. While younger participants often focused on personal achievement and self-discovery, older participants emphasized the significance of relationships, community, and legacy.

The pursuit of meaning is an ongoing and dynamic journey that unfolds across the lifespan. Early childhood experiences, adolescent identity formation, the pursuit of personal and professional goals in early adulthood, reflection and reevaluation in middle adulthood, and wisdom and legacy in late adulthood all contribute to the multifaceted process of finding meaning in life. Understanding this journey requires a holistic and nuanced perspective that recognizes the interplay of individual development, societal influences, and the importance of relationships and storytelling. As we navigate the different stages of life, we have the opportunity to find meaning in our experiences, relationships, contributions to society, and the legacy we leave behind. The quest for meaning is a deeply human endeavor that shapes our understanding of purpose and fulfillment throughout our lives.

In a KidSpirit Feature article, teen writer Mahnoor Ali Pervaiz explains how our search for meaning changes throughout different stages of life. 

Meaning: A Quest Throughout the Journey of Life

Sybille Nkunzimana

I search for meaning in the things I find most confusing and realize that this thing I am looking for, trying so hard to understand and describe, is so abstract that it cannot be verbalized.

Sitting in the airplane on my way to Nairobi, I think about the life I once had, my recollection of it fading like contrails in the dark blue.

“Can I get you something to drink?” the flight attendant asks me. A Coke sounds nice. I take a sip and find myself back in a memory, one that is so distant now but still so dear. There I am, with my friends, eating salads and drinking Cokes, leaving the restaurant and running around the pool, talking about school, talking about boys.

“I love your ring,” the flight attendant says with a smile. Her voice, a reminder of where I am. The memory is gone and I am back in row fourteen, window seat. I smile back and look out at the dark sky thinking about how quickly everything changes and wishing I could go back and force myself to enjoy it all just a little bit more. I look down at my ring, the one I got in Victoria on my last trip to Canada. I think about how I could never have gone to Victoria if my life hadn’t been derailed, with school and my social life as collateral damage. My mind automatically separates my experiences into then and now. Before my home country became too dangerous to live in and after. My old life and this new transitory, bewildering, unstable, and lucky one. 

I look over at my mum, half asleep listening to Dido, and begin telling her about my summer in Salt Spring, British Columbia, about how my time there has become a fundamental piece of who I am. My sister and I arrived on the island on the 18th of May, our third month away from home. I would rather have been anywhere else. Having to leave my home for my own safety, traveling from place to place, Kigali to New York, Port Hope to Nairobi, Kampala to Dakar, home was all I could think about. The last thing I wanted to do was sleep in yet another relative’s guest bedroom, living out of a suitcase — mostly full of books — that could barely close. We stepped off the ferry and mum’s cousin stood on the dock waving at us with her partner and their dog. The scene caused the chorus from “Catch a Wave” by The Beach Boys to play in my head on repeat, a paradox of the way I am feeling. Where am I? Who are these people and why am I here? 

To be fair, this trip had been planned months in advance and I had been looking forward to it. That is, before Salt Spring became my place of refuge. Being there was bittersweet. Bitter because mum and dad were back home, and sweet because my sister and I got to bond with our second cousin, now our favorite person. Is it possible to feel happy and sad at the same time? If it is, that is the only way to describe how I was feeling. Everything I had always wanted and had never been able to have living in Haiti — freedom, safety, a part-time job — I suddenly got. But instead of filling the proverbial void, they widened it. Every little thing I did felt like a betrayal, like I was somehow insulting my old life, laughing and pointing at it. Every time I got paid, I thought about all the people in Haiti who weren’t going to be able to feed themselves and their families that day, of the people I love the most being trapped behind iron bars in their homes, the sound of gunshots, all too familiar, fading into the background. I thought about all the pocket money I used to save up to buy books and other useless trinkets that I saw as little treasures, wondering where that version of myself went. 

When did I lose my innocence? When did the world stop being magical and become terrifying? I have tried to answer this constant stream of questions by picking apart specific events, milestones, tragedies, without ever achieving a concrete, satisfying answer, because it does not exist. I search for meaning in the things I find most confusing and realize that this thing I am looking for, trying so hard to understand and describe, is so abstract that it cannot be verbalized. To ask why certain things are the way they are is to assume that there is one reason, that we all exist on earth to follow a preordained path and fulfill some kind of destiny. But what if one person’s destiny is to suffer and another’s is to prosper? Does that mean that one is less deserving of happiness than the other? 

What I have come to realize is that life represents a series of challenges. Our entire existence is determined by how we react to the cards we are dealt and what lessons we take away from our circumstances. A person who grew up in suburbia with two parents and a French bulldog shielded from harm by their white picket fence can find themselves just as confused in the end as someone who lives a tumultuous life, forced to go from place to place in search of safety, forgetting what home is supposed to look like. This does not make one’s experiences more valuable than the other, because there is no value in what cannot be conceptualized. The rudimentary purpose of life that I have fabricated for myself is to take everything in stride and not dwell on the things I know can never be retrieved. All I can do with the challenges I face is learn from them in hope of maximizing what little time I have before I pack up my things and watch as my childhood fades into the rearview mirror.

In a KidSpirit Big Question article, teen writer Sybille Nkunzimana reminisces on her personal experiences to find meaning in challenges and change. 

Is There Universal Meaning, or Is Meaning Subjective and Individual?

Vincent Chang

The story of A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens begins on a frosty Christmas Eve. 

We are quickly introduced to Ebenezer Scrooge, an old miser who has a disdain for the festivity, which he dismisses as “humbug!” and regards as a squandering of his hard-earned wealth. Scrooge's sour disposition and generally unpleasant demeanor hardly endears him to anyone. For this reason, the spirits of Christmas decide to pay him a visit, with the hope of prompting some kind of introspection.

That night, Scrooge encounters three spectral visitors representing Christmas Past, Present, and Future. The Ghost of Christmas Past is a meek and radiant figure with a wise disposition. Through its guidance the elderly Scrooge comes face-to-face with his younger, more hopeful self. Scrooge experiences the painful moments of his youth, including an especially painful break-up with his lover Belle, all due to his growing greed and fear of love. The night goes on, and soon another ghostly visitor arrives. The Ghost of Christmas Present is a jolly giant full of life and heartiness, dressed in a magnificent emerald robe and accompanied by a feast of Christmas delicacies. He leads Scrooge into the lives of the people around him — familiar people whom he has shunned due to his own miserliness. Scrooge sees his employee, Bob Cratchit, and realizes how Cratchit’s family struggles to scrape together enough money for a warm hearth fire. He witnesses Cratchit’s frail son Tiny Tim, who suffers from an unknown illness and might not survive the winter. Although this suffering was always around him, Scrooge was blind to it until the Ghost of the Christmas Present opened his eyes. As the morning comes, Scrooge's final visitor manifests in his room. Faceless and covered in a misty cloak, the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come is silent and lifeless. It uses a long, bony finger to point Scrooge toward tragic events of the future, where the Cratchits mourn the death of Tiny Tim, and where Scrooge himself is finally buried in a little churchyard, his gravestone unvisited and weathering away.

Throughout the night, Scrooge undergoes a remarkable transformation, becoming a more welcoming and cheerful individual by dawn — someone who no longer avoids the affection of those around him, but cherishes it.

However, what struck me the most was this: the spirits of Christmas do not visit Scrooge solely to make him a nicer person or to appease those bothered by his behavior. They probe deeper, peeling away his façade to reveal the true person concealed beneath his tough exterior, and helping the miserable man come to terms with all the fear, anger, and regret he has accumulated.

These spirits discern a lonely soul, haunted by a troubling past. Scrooge is incapable of savoring the present Christmas, not only because he has only valued the accumulation of his own wealth, but because he has become so desensitized toward suffering that he himself can no longer feel anything at all.

We often find ourselves quick to judge disagreeable individuals, criticizing them and placing ourselves on a pedestal as virtuous and superior beings. We often assume that people would willingly choose malice over kindness if given the chance.

The reality is, however, that sometimes people are powerless to help themselves. They construct intricate defenses to shield their inner fears and sorrows from prying eyes. Consequently, they struggle to reach out to others, just as others hesitate to lend a hand to them. Scrooge might not be the most approachable, but the moment we decide to turn him away, do we also become indifferent?

Such a fantastic holiday read would get five stars immediately, if not for a very small issue —  the structure. Dickens particularly enjoys long sentences, and sometimes attempts to delay his full-stops as much as he can. Readers might find A Christmas Carol slightly more difficult to follow than more contemporary pieces. Sometimes a dictionary is necessary, and half a star is deducted for the complex and nuanced language within this novella. This feature, combined with a handful of rather obscure references to life in Victorian England, could make for an equally challenging and unique reading experience.

Not particularly bulky, A Christmas Carol makes up for its length by hiding a series of deep ideas beneath every line. Charles Dickens writes with an intense saturation: he pays attention to every minute detail, he is not afraid to thrust his characters into the middle of their darkest experiences, and he tightly controls the pace of every chapter for a wholesome and triumphant conclusion. And the story is not always serious, either. There are moments when Scrooge appears less offending, and more comically absurd. The best part about Dickens’ humor, then, is that we can laugh with the character as he himself begins to grow. We are encouraged to laugh with him, and reflect upon ourselves afterwards. Beneath his precise (and sometimes rather dense) narration, is a kind of emotional honesty that can catch the reader by surprise.

There is a scene earlier in the night, when Scrooge meets the ghost of Marley, an old business partner, who is forever doomed to wander the afterlife tangled in chains:

“You are fettered," said Scrooge, trembling. "Tell me why?" 
"I wear the chain I forged in life," replied the Ghost. "I made it link by link, and yard by yard; I girded it on of my own free will, and of my own free will I wore it.”

The emphasis on being “fettered” suggests that Scrooge's fears encompass more than just losing monetary wealth. Scrooge's interactions at the story's beginning and during this spectral encounter reveal that he assesses every action and interaction based on personal benefit. If there's no direct gain, he becomes miserly. The narrative even recounts how, on the day of his former business partner's funeral (an event seemingly devoid of personal benefit), he conducted himself as a shrewd businessman, minimizing expenses on formalities like the coffin. Beyond the surface of financial matters, this is a reflection of his incapacity to make room in his life for anything beyond his self-interest, and also his helplessness to save himself from the clutches of loneliness.

During the visit to the Past, Scrooge is transported to the house where he grew up as a young boy. He sees himself as a lonely and neglected child, left at the boarding school while his peers return home for Christmas. But it was during this time that he was surrounded by loving individuals such as Mr. Fezziwig and Belle — yet he failed to see the “gain” in embracing compassion, which is itself an intangible thing. The hollowness of Scrooge's inner being prompted him to chase things he could hold and see and manipulate. In doing so, he created a loop where he tried to find meaning through hoarding money and valuables, but lost himself in his isolation. Scrooge is miserable not because he is greedy, but because he is empty.

Our personal pursuits extend beyond mere accumulation of wealth, and also encompass desires for status, ego, and pride. We may aspire to excel academically and secure prestigious positions, attain a flawless appearance, be acknowledged as the most virtuous member of our community, or outshine our peers by exploring the world. Pursuing such aspirations isn't inherently wrong; the peril arises when we pursue them single-mindedly, extinguishing our “noble aspirations” in the process. The moment we stop focusing solely on personal achievement in every passing event is the moment when we can reflect within and find the root of all our wants. The moment we break out of this thought process altogether is the moment when we have truly realized the purpose behind each of our actions.

In a KidSpirit Media review, teen writer Vincent Chang finds deeper meaning in Charles Dickens' classic novella A Christmas Carol.

The Scrooges in Our Hearts

Konrad Tittel


To be human is to delve into a fantastical ecosystem strung together from fragments of the past, the present, the future, and to daringly traverse undiscovered paths that bring us fulfillment, despite the dense forest seeking to resist our unyielding progress. 

Intrinsically woven together as a discordant yet harmonious hive mind, we cut through these dense weeds in pursuit of our dreams, ones which grow clearer and clearer as we age, striking us like rays of sunlight that pierce the canopy above. To transcend the murky darkness of the forest and embrace the light is to find meaning in our lives, accept who we are, and free ourselves from mental servitude. And yet, this eternal effort to capture our true essence, to find meaning in the vast, incoherent planet, is unique to each of us. Every single transformative moment in our lives is just a brushstroke in this beautifully abstract painting of life. Sharing these stories fuels the fire of humanity, bringing those lost in the darkness to feast on meaning.

Like many, I spent much of my early childhood aimlessly wandering through this forest that is life, innocently caressing the leaves of each tree, yet never lingering long enough to truly immerse myself in any one topic. “Up is too scary,” I thought, as I quivered at the very sight of the looming trees overhead, proud, strong arms outstretched to the world, welcoming the world. So instead, my gaze shyly crept downwards; down to the ground, where it scanned in search of anything I could forage. I searched for anything that would provide me with some spark of instant gratification, anything that would appease the persistent question, “What do you want to be when you grow up?" This was my childhood: navigating this cycle of picking up scraps, leaving them behind, and continuing on to the next. As the world evolved around me, I was there, merely riding the tides of human ingenuity, my youth imprisoning me to a single conception of the world shaped by my surroundings. This raw innocence that suspended me above each battering wave of hardship was beautiful.

But growing up entails a different kind of beauty, one which, although persistently at war with the darkness that inevitably accompanies the light, blossoms into a beautiful flower nonetheless, nourished by dreams and passion and inspiration. It was this drastic realization whose rays of enlightenment shattered my delusion, laying the building blocks for my identity today.

That day was rather … unextraordinary, at least at first. It was a rainy, gloomy London day, the sky painted a dull gray, drenching the world in melancholy. The solemn skies eventually gave in and cried tears of relief upon the city below, prompting me to take shelter in Waterloo Station. Upon entering the hall, I was struck by a thriving ecosystem crisscrossed by converging and diverging railways, currents of people gliding to-and-fro and in and out of trains. They were all in pursuit of different goals and desires, while I stood there, static as a rock, resisting this mesmerizing procession. As I looked up, my eyes scanned the large glass panes lining the ceiling, revealing the looming face of the heavens. Suddenly, an elegant white bird effortlessly pierced the endless rain above, breaking me out of my stiff trance. Slowly, my once timid movements began to loosen, and mimicking the bird’s freedom, I began drifting about the station, eventually washing up on the shore of a library. I don’t recall what exactly drove me to set foot upon this unfamiliar land. Indeed, my largely antipathetic approach towards “books” painted them as creatures that, according to my 12 year-old brain, sought to imprison me in “school” - a place whose mere concept elicited dread in me. Nonetheless, some hypnotic calling from within lured me deeper into the unknown. Even as the looming shelves of books glared menacingly at me from above, I unwaveringly beat on against the current that drove me back to ‘safety,’ to my blissful ignorance. And then, suddenly, something snapped; the currents lessened, the shriek of disapproval arising from each shelf grew muted, and I felt myself drifting rather than resisting. I, once an invasive species aimlessly roaming this unforgiving wasteland that was destitute of any form of instant gratification I had previously indulged in, now flourished alongside the vast vineyards brimming with rich knowledge around me.

It was at this moment that my once bitter disinterest blossomed into fanatical craving for the nectar of knowledge, of passion. And so, like a bee seeking nourishment, I began pursuing enlightenment. No longer was I riding the raging waves of the food chain, aimlessly gathering foraged items from the ground while those around me rose to the top. Now I too reached for the richest fruits above, ever seeking to quench my thirst for knowledge. Finally my unstoppable procession was halted when my gaze settled on one book, entitled Relativity: The Special and the General Theory, by Albert Einstein.There was some intrinsic mystery that shrouded that book in ethereal wonder, yet to this day I can’t pinpoint exactly what. Perhaps it was the allure of theory, of the abstract, that challenged the exceedingly materialistic, grounded world in which I existed until that point. Or perhaps the book’s mysticism was conjured by its image in my eyes as some holy relic summoned by one of the greatest minds in history, his writing sequestered there within its pages. Yet all I know is that, the moment I opened that book, I released an ancient passion that for so long slumbered within me, which drove me to excel in mathematics and physics, both of which are intrinsically rooted in my identity to this day. Yet I cannot help but poke fun at the irony – how could a path of abstraction ultimately lead to my clarity? Yet perhaps this isn’t so unusual after all. Perhaps we must endure the musty soil before we feel the warmth of the sun, the coolness of the air caressing our skin. Clarity.

In a KidSpirit Awesome Moments article, teen writer Konrad Tittel shares his journey of self-discovery. 

Fruits of Passion

Liz Fabiola

In life, we face challenges, dreams, problems, goals, people, and a million other things daily. 

Sometimes they are new, and other times they are repeated, but we know that each of them has a meaning. From the simplest situations to the most complex moments, each happens for a reason and has an impact on our lives.

But what does it mean to find our purpose? Is it something easy or complicated? The first thing I can say is that to find our purpose we must follow a very particular and uncertain path. At times the path is short, but at other times it might seem endless. Sometimes we find stairs to advance, and sometimes we encounter obstacles that will challenge us. The key to going forward on this path is to first know ourselves, know what we are passionate about, and to find everything that moves us and drives us forward. Next, we must decide to what extent we are willing to fight for each aspect and discover which ones have the most value for our lives. Above all, we have to surround ourselves with the right people.

I have always thought that life is like a puzzle; sometimes all the pieces fit and sometimes they don't. But unlike puzzles, life is not just about following instructions and making sure the pieces fit together perfectly to achieve the same result. Life is much more complex, since the decisions and actions we take affect us and others. Personally, I have always looked for the pieces of my life that fit together, and despite my young age, I can say that I have found some essential pieces that have fit together perfectly. I say this because I started achieving my dreams when I was 9 years old. The first thing that I did was study English, that was a big step for me and the main reason for my following achievements. After that, I began to take part in  several volunteer projects, and from there I began to understand my purpose in life. Of course none of this would have happened if God were not present in my puzzle. He is the piece that fits perfectly in my life. When I need peace he is there and he is always by my side to show me the best way to continue building my life.

I grew up in a Catholic household, and since I was a child my mom told me that I have to be a grateful person, especially with God, because he is the reason we are here and he is the one who helps us at all times. I am grateful to God, because he has given me the opportunity to meet wonderful people, who love me authentically and support me in every step I take. For me, they are undoubtedly key parts in my journey to find my purpose.

However, just as there are people who will be eternal friends and fit perfectly into your great puzzle, there will also be imposter pieces, who appear to be crucial, but in reality, never belonged there. In my life, I have not only known wonderful people, but I have also encountered some bad people disguised as good. These situations have undoubtedly been very difficult to heal from, and have left me with very deep wounds. But even though these people were very important to me, in the last couple months I have been able to gain the courage necessary to turn my life 180 degrees and completely remove them from my puzzle, because they hurt me and it was no longer a healthy friendship. I will not deny that it hurt and that it was difficult to overcome, but I was able to see again how incredible God is, because he showed me that in life it is not always necessary to desperately look for the missing pieces, and that many times we must put on pause the construction of our lives.

There will be moments when perhaps we will believe that we are stuck without certain pieces, and that their absence will negatively affect our course. But instead of falling into despair, we must take a break and wait until we are ready to continue. We must never forget that above all, the most important part of the process in finding our meaning and purpose is to feel good about ourselves and build our lives step by step. Then if at any time a piece no longer fits, we just have to look for a new one that can give new meaning and color to our lives.

Some people think that the things we do are what give us value. The truth is that we are the ones who give value to the things we do, because each of us is different and we have a special touch. Everything we do has meaning and is important, because we were born to make the world a better place and sooner or later the time will come to discover our value.

In this life, each one of us has a different purpose than the others, and we know that life is more complex than a puzzle and a confusing riddle, but from the hand of God everything becomes easier and safer. We just have to trust him and not doubt the faith that we have within us about the power of God.

In a KidSpirit Interfaith Connections article, teen writer Liz Fabiola shares how her Catholic faith supports her in finding her purpose.

The Puzzle of Life

Jack Green

What do you associate with the word “help”? 

Many people associate this word solely with doing something nice for others. They’re not wrong; however, helping others very often means helping yourself, too. Helping others can lead to (among other things) finding new interests or talents and getting to know yourself better. I once helped somebody else while also receiving help, and this enabled us both to find deeper meaning in the values of education.

Every summer for the past three years, my brother and I have been going to a sleepaway camp called Camp Wawa Segowea. It is an outdoorsy camp in Massachusetts, surrounded by lots of wildlife. There are only about 80 campers, so everyone knows each other, and this contributes to a strong sense of community in the camp. This year, camp was even better than before, because we had the largest number of international counselors since 2010. One of these people was my cabin counselor, Dener. 

Dener is a social entrepreneur (“a person who establishes an enterprise with the aim of solving social problems or effecting social change,” according to Oxford Languages) from Brazil. He came to the US to visit famous places and tourist attractions and to see what ideas he could take back to his hometown in Brazil. As a camp counselor, Dener was phenomenal. He was extremely kind, personable, and smart. He was always open to teaching me something, such as his past experiences playing soccer with the professional player Neymar. He also told me about his job in Brazil. As a social entrepreneur, Dener is deeply involved in trying to fix social issues. One issue Dener cares about is improving his hometown in any way he can. 

Along with telling me about his life, he also taught me hands-on things like how to make a kite, and he was open to learning new things. He has been to many different countries and learned many different languages. I was able to teach him precise elements of the English language, such as different pronouns. In my cabin there was somebody who was transgender, and Dener, not quite understanding the concept of they/them pronouns, felt comfortable coming to me and asking me about it. 

Dener was equally eager to help campers and participate in their games. One of these games, knockout, required shooting a basketball. Although Dener is a very athletic person, his areas of expertise lie in soccer and surfing. Dener, seeing that basketball was a sport I had some experience with, asked me to help him shoot more accurately. I taught him some tips about foot placement and the guide hand, and he improved quickly. 

I was also able to teach him some more unconventional skills, including how to get a bird out of the cabin. When my family and I went on a vacation, a bird repeatedly found its way into our house, so I had some experience with using brooms to shepherd them out. All in all, no matter the subject or its importance, Dener’s eagerness to learn made it easy to teach him new skills, and he was as good a teacher as he was a student.

As we got to know each other, we became great friends. We found we had many things in common, such as skateboarding and a love of traveling. Dener would occasionally tell me about some of the different countries that he has been to. Along with common interests such as these, Dener and I told each other about the culture in our countries, even small things, including why wearing a Memphis Grizzlies cap with an L.A. Lakers jersey might seem strange and abnormal to some people. On the last day of camp, when I had to go home, Dener’s eyes were watering and I felt incredibly sad, too. He even gave me a kite he made with a message on it as a parting gift, and we exchanged phone numbers.

One important thing that friends do for one another is help each other out. We would always help each other if we could. One way he helped was to get me ice for my knees because of my Osgood-Schlatter disease. We were also able to help each other in deeper ways. Even in our everyday camp routines we helped each other find meaning in one of the most vital aspects of life: learning.

Of course we understood the benefits of learning to some degree. We both knew that education was extremely important to leading a prosperous life, and without it, one’s life can be extremely difficult. Although we understood this, what we didn’t understand was just how much one person can teach another, regardless of age or social status. Dener taught me so much about Brazil and how he grew up. I learned that despite his current success and experiences, Dener had grown up without a lot of money. When he talked about his neighborhood in Brazil, he would talk about how the houses were shared and everyone was pretty poor. Additionally, he wanted to create tourist attractions in his neighborhood to generate some more money for the community. Once, when I asked him about his life in Brazil and what sports he watched, he told me about how his home didn’t have a TV and was shared with another family. 

I was surprised and interested by the differences in our lives. Although I understood that of course living in different countries would mean having different lifestyles, I was shocked that what would be considered so strange here might be the norm there. Even in small cheap apartments in the US, people still live by themselves and usually have TV’s, so I hadn’t given much thought to other lifestyles. This taught me the meaning and importance of asking people questions no matter their age or social status, even if you believe you already know the answer. I was also able to teach Dener this lesson when he asked me about New York City and other famous US cities. He was interested in learning about the best aspects of these cities so he could take them back to his hometown in Brazil. He would ask me about my favorite places, what made these cities tourist attractions, and why certain places were different from others. I believe he realized that despite my younger age, there was meaning in asking me questions and I could help him achieve his goals, even in little ways.

Although I haven’t seen Dener since camp, our friendship continues to impact me. I have learned so much from him, from things about his country to the meaning of learning. When someone is trying to teach me something, especially if it isn’t the most  thought-provoking topic, I might have tuned out in the past. But now, I think of Dener and I realize that I may find information that is interesting or important, even if the lecture might seem a little boring. I would encourage everyone to look out for others everywhere, because the most meaningful relationships can be found in unexpected places. Everyone has something to teach and everyone has something that they can learn. Always remember, information can come from even the most unexpected sources, like a camp counselor.

In a KidSpirit Helping Hands article, teen writer Jack Green reflects on a relationship that taught him the value of helping others. 

Helping People Find Meaning

Siddhant Raj

One who knows how to find beauty in even the most monotonous of times can transform the most absurd of dreams into reality. 

In this great labyrinth of life, one who knows how to find beauty in even the most monotonous of times is one that can transform the most absurd of dreams into reality. 

In the late 19th century, there lived a young girl named Aaliyah. She resided in a remote village known as Tamult with her grandmother, Lucienda. Aaliyah lost her parents in a devastating landslide when she was only 4 years old. Ever since, she lived in the countryside and followed the lifestyle of her grandmother. By the age of 11, she started working as a waste collector to help her grandmother make ends meet. 

The prefecture of Tamult was clearly divided into two parts — one was an idyllic prosperous society for the wealthy and the royal, and the other was for the impoverished. Aaliyah belonged to the society of the poverty-stricken, but hoped to find herself on the privileged side, someday.

Aaliyah’s life was quite mundane. Every day, after school, she would collect and dispose of garbage. During her leisure hours, Aaliya would dream of a time when she would no longer have to toil all day just to earn a meager few pennies. Lost in her thoughts, she often found herself buried under an avalanche of qualms. She yearned for a life of wealth and splendor, and could not stand the mere prospect of living around people so complacent. Her only mode of expressing her feelings was through poetry, for that was the sole way for her to peregrinate through her imaginative realms and gallivant in her mind’s dream world. Writing poems also helped tame the inner conflicts that constantly tainted Aaliyah’s head. However, she preferred keeping her poems to herself and did not like to share them with anyone else.

One unusually grim evening, the skies were dressed in a drab shade of crimson. Aaliyah was dulled by fatigue after a long day at school and work. On her way back home, she encountered a rather bizarre predicament. As she traversed the wilderness to go back home, a peculiar entity clad in matte black robes appeared before her, whispering the words: “The Devil shall come, and shall destroy. Beware, damsel, for The Devil is your doom! The Devil shall slither through your soul and break it! The Devil shall suck all that is pure within you. Quest for The Nectar, and you shall be able to avoid His apocalypse!” 

Aaliyah was in a fog, her face ashen like that of a corpse. “What on God’s green Earth just happened?” she stammered, her chocolate-brown eyes wide open and her lips pursed. Pondering all the way over her enigmatic experience, she finally reached home. She didn’t realize that she was late and had completely forgotten that her grandma was unwell. As she turned the doorknob to enter her house, she thought to herself: “Who could that queer figure be? What’s the reason for this sudden quandary?” Her pensive contemplation was then interrupted by the shrieks of her grandmother, who was at her wits’ end waiting for Aaliyah to come back home. “Ma! You are supposed to be on bed rest, remember?” said young Aaliyah. “Tut-tut, little girl. I don’t need any bed rest! Where were you anyway?” Lucienda was vexed. “Uh . . . Nowhere, just left a bit late, that’s it,” stuttered Aaliyah.

“By the way, there’s beetroot soup in the fridge. You can have it for dinner.”

“Ugh! The same thing again and again. Can you not make something else, ma?” As Aaliyah gobbled her food, her skin crawled in disgust. She told her grandmother about her encounter with the strange entity. Lucienda simply smirked and did not utter a word. 

The next day, as Aaliyah opened her eyes, she heard a strange sound of something breaking. She shot out of her bed and ran straight to her grandmother’s room. “Ma! Ma!” she frantically called out. She went to her neighbors’ house and asked them if they knew where Lucienda was, but they just drew a blank. Aaliyah started sweating bullets. Lucienda had vanished into thin air! “Where could she go? She can’t just drop out of sight like this.”

Aaliyah looked for her grandmother in the woods, but much to her chagrin, Lucienda was nowhere to be found. An amalgamation of emotions swirling around her mind, tears started pouring out of Aaliyah's eyes, dripping down her cheeks and toppling to the ground. Weeping, she yelped, “Why me, oh, lord? Why me?” As much as it was difficult for Aaliyah to fathom the situation, she still continued with her daily chores, but something had shifted in her. She was no longer desperate to move to the prosperous side of Tamult society.

Before long, Aaliyah took a break from school to take care of the house. She now realized how blessed she was to have Lucienda in her life. Every night, she would sit on the veranda and gaze at the moon, wondering when she would be able to meet her grandmother again. A few days later, on a balmy Sunday morning, she was strolling through the woods and happened to run into a small family that lived in a cave. She was instantly perturbed to see how pale and dejected their faces were, weakened by weariness. 

Aaliyah felt a glowing sensation of gratitude in her heart and decided to help the family and make them some food. Looking at the family indulge in their warm bowls of beetroot soup filled Aaliyah’s mind, and kindled in her a sense of pride. This 14-year-old had finally found her purpose in life — to help others and change their lives, for she now believed in the everlasting power of kindness and compassion, and the profound impact it can have on people. Aaliyah’s primary motto was to find beauty in monotony, to find light in the gloomiest of times, and to perpetually see love, not feud.          

She now realized that mining for the flaws in her life inhibited her from appreciating the myriad of privileges she was blessed with. Suddenly it dawned on her – her encounter with the strange entity in the woods. “Hm, now I see . . . ‘The Devil’ is my resentment toward everything that I have, and ‘The Nectar’ is my gratitude toward life.” She looked up with a smile, after this epiphany. A divine melody reverberated across the turquoise skies, and the green gold trees started dancing, swaying and swishing. The birds harmonized the music with their melodious chirps, and a voice resonated through the heavens: “Lo, let beauty outshine ignorance! Lo, let belief sweeten all that is bitter! And lo, let the flowers of love add fragrance and eradicate that stench of hatred!”

Although taken aback, Aaliyah let her bedazzlement outweigh her confusion. She was now motivated to change the world for the better, breaking all inhibitions and spreading only felicity and joy. As she unlocked the door to her house, she was astonished to see her grandmother again. Before Lucienda could say anything, young Aaliyah quickly gave her a tight hug. “Thank you, ma! I will never let you go away from me again,” she exclaimed, and time stood still. 

In a KidSpirit Fiction piece, teen writer Siddhant Raj shares a short story about the quest for meaning.

Quest for The Nectar

Félix Delgado

In the forest of tangled dreams, where shadows whisper secrets unseen,

a silent rose stands, softly it speaks, its petals conceal more than they seem.

Its sweet scent, a veil of promises, hides deep and vast mysteries untold,

like a closed book, pages of gold, a hidden language in its pure folds.

Its thorns guard the forbidden passion, a love that burns in silent flame,

in each prick, a repressed desire, a passion the world does not acclaim.

The rose, a symbol of the hidden, invites us to explore what's concealed,

a metaphor for profound secrets, that within appearances are concealed.

So, in life, in human souls too, there are secrets kept beneath the skin,

just like that rose, hidden in its fragrance, a hidden poem yearning to begin.

In a KidSpirit poem, teen poet Félix Delgado metaphorically explores the hidden depths of human nature. 

Floral Deception

Ojaswi Thakur

And when I sat down
to write this time
My thoughts were
really not even mine
My mind had been captured
My heart had been trapped
I shouted for rescue
But there was no one there
My mind refused to listen
My heart refused to smile
I was in a different world
Which was not even mine
I wandered there alone
Hearing through the silence
I was searching for stones
In the world of diamonds

In a KidSpirit poem, teen poet Ojaswi Thakur mines for meaning.

Diamonds

Oksana Sheremeta

In a realm adorned with frost and gleam, 
Where whispered dreams of yuletide scheme, 
In the midst of winter's soft embrace, 
Arrives a day of wondrous grace. 

The air sings carols, joyously bright, 
As stars aglow illumine the night, 
A tale unfolds in each twinkling light, 
Of love and hope, in hearts taking flight. 

Upon the boughs, memories hang, 
Like ornaments, in time's sweet clang, 
Laughter and love dance in the air, 
A symphony of joy, beyond compare. 

In cozy corners, by fireside's glow, 
Families gather, hearts aflow, 
As tales are spun and spirits rise, 
Echoing joy that never dies. 

Gifts exchanged with eager delight, 
Under the tree, adorned just right, 
A symbol of love that we always share,
A gesture that says, "I'm always there." 

Yet deeper still, the truest cheer, 
Is the love that draws loved ones near, 
A precious bond, a warmth so grand, 
Enveloping all, hand in hand. 

Amidst the joy, let's not forget, 
The humble manger, a sight so set, 
A babe was born, a timeless tale, 
Of hope and love that will prevail. 

So let us gather, hearts aglow, 
In this season of sharing, let love grow, 
For Christmas is more than gifts and cheer, 
It's a reminder of what we hold dear.

In a KidSpirit poem, teen poet Oksana Sheremeta celebrates the festive atmosphere of Christmas.

Cozy Christmas Nights

Athena Evangelia

The sacred veins from my head 
Dripping down to my legs 
I feel the tension inside  

And in a split second I have a sudden question  

I ask God this in my secret prayers at night 
I feel the upholding light 
I just want to know 

Am I that sunny glow that lifts people up to the sky? 
Or am I that rushing blow of sadness stuck to the  wind,  but felt by the mortals of the world? 

Or am I, the bird who can 
fly with one wing by its 
side? 
OR AM I, that fire flame that brings people up, 
but brings me down? 

A surprise to people that see my energy and my 
mysterious beauty? 
Is it jealousy? 
What about the clock ticking in my head?  
What does that mean? 
What about the shaking of jealousy in my bed? 

I can feel 
My withering pen spelling out the words of beauty  
From my shaking hand to this wrinkled paper 

By whom these pages are read, your eyes 
Can YOU answer my questions? 

In a KidSpirit poem, teen poet Athena Evangelia ponders her true identity.

Who Am I?

Dhruvika Parikh

To some, winter is excruciatingly cold,
To some, it is the symbol of serenity,
But do we pause to ask ourselves its meaning?
To know how it correlates with our identity,

Delving below the surface, it goes deep within,
The layers and layers to unravel,
Are the mysteries of one’s being,
Unexpected like a journey of travel,

Thoughts are gathered, animals are armed,
To face the harsh realities of Jack Frost,
It’s snow seeps and covers all shades,
Sows the feeling that all is lost,

But alas, that white breaks into a spectrum of colors,
Showing the vastness of the forbidding winter,
A season that is a lens to life,
Its learning sharper than a splinter,

Renewing and reviewing ourselves every time,
Is all about what we call this "wintertime."

In a KidSpirit poem, teen poet Dhruvika Parikh pens an ode to the season of winter. 

Wintertide

Ruth Benitez Escobar

Jack has a big problem: he constantly wonders about the purpose of life.

This is the life of Jack, a teenager with many friends and an understanding and loving family, the president of his school and the best student in his class. 

Anyone would say that he has a perfect life. However, Jack has a big problem: he constantly wonders about the purpose of life.

One autumn morning, when the weather was truly perfect, the atmosphere in the class was full of life and energy, but inside Jack there was a great silence and a question that didn’t leave him calm, that stole his moments and didn’t allow him to focus on reality: what is the purpose of life? What a deep question; he wondered if he would ever be able to find the answer.

Suddenly, he noticed silence among his classmates and was transported back to his class. The teacher had just entered to give the announcement that they would not have classes for a week.

It was almost time to go home. Jack’s last class was math, and unlike the other days, this time he felt like it lasted an eternity, maybe because during the entire class he only wanted to focus on that question.

“Very good mom. Ahh, before I forget, we won't have classes next week.”

“It's just that I was talking to your father this morning about going to visit your grandma, it's been a long time since we went.”

“That's awesome, I can't wait to see her!”

Finally the day arrived. The family packed all their things and started the trip. Jack was very excited. He had almost no memories of his grandmother’s house, since he had not been there for years. However, when thinking about it, he felt very calm and at peace.

After several hours of travel, they finally arrived. Jack was amazed because the house was very beautiful and full of photos. The whole family greeted the grandmother affectionately and she told them to go upstairs to rest, since there were already two rooms prepared, one for Jack and the other for his parents.

The days passed and for some reason that Jack didn’t know, he felt enormous joy and tranquility. His grandmother was a lovely person but of few words, someone who loved to have tea sitting in front of the same tree at any time of the day. 

One afternoon, Jack's parents went out shopping and left him alone with his grandma. It may be hard to explain, but at that moment, Jack simply felt like he wanted to talk to his grandmother about the question that was in his thoughts almost all the time.

“Grandma, do you know what the purpose of life is?”

Upon hearing this, she just smiled and told him that this question was very deep and that perhaps he should look in the afterlife for the answer. Jack was very confused and told his grandmother that he didn’t understand very well what she was trying to say. After this, she told him that there was a very bright and beautiful star next to the moon, that it was a magical star and that you could ask her any question you wanted, because that star would always have the answer. Jack was shocked. Despite thinking that this was just a story, when night came he decided to look out his window for the star. After a few minutes, he finally found it; it was just as his grandmother had told him, the most beautiful and bright star in the sky.

“What is the purpose of life?” asked Jack

After a few seconds and thinking about what he had done, Jack laughed at himself, seeing that he was talking to a star. He closed his window, layed down, and slept. In his dreams, Jack was transported to a beautiful place, full of trees and many flowers. He couldn't believe it, it felt so familiar and welcoming. Suddenly, while continuing to admire the surroundings, he met a man he didn't know, who invited him to rest under a tree, where after a few minutes they started talking. Jack couldn't believe how comfortable and happy he felt with that man. Suddenly, the man told him that the tree under which they were sitting was not like other trees, that this was a very special one for him, a tree he had named "the tree of wisdom," because every time he had a question, when he sat there, the answer came to him.

Jack was perplexed; this might be his chance to answer his question. After much thought, and despite the nerves he had, he said:

“Sir, I have a question, but it is very deep and complex. You cannot imagine how much I want to know the answer. Do you know what the purpose of life is?”

“Let me see, the purpose of life is not just one, it can be several at the same time. Life itself has no meaning and I wouldn't say it has an exact purpose either, each person must create their own purpose in life. You are the one who gives meaning to everything you do, the important thing is that you always seek to do everything that makes you happy, that makes you feel fulfilled, and that gives you a reason to get up every day. That is, without a doubt, the purpose of life.”

The next day, Jack woke up and found himself back in his bed. It seemed like absolutely nothing happened, but everything was different; he had finally found his answer.

When he went downstairs, the first thing he did was to go to where his grandmother was and ask about the star. She told him that every time a person leaves this world they become a beautiful star that illuminates the night, and that even he will become a beautiful star one day. While both were talking, his parents yelled:

“Jack! Where are you? We must go now.”

Jack couldn't believe it, the week was over.

While going to his room to pack his things, he noticed a very large portrait that he had not seen before. He decided to clean and dust it. Jack was shocked to see that the person in the painting was the man who was with him in his dream. Desperate, he went in search of his mother to ask who that man was. The answer was surprising: it was his grandfather.

Once Jack recovered from the surprise, he finally went to get his things ready and took one last look out his window, where he discovered that the place where his grandmother had tea every morning was the tree of wisdom.

It was time to leave. Grandma smiled and said goodbye to Jack, telling him that she was very happy that he had finally found his answer. The family got into the car, and as they were driving away, Jack looked back with a smile, because his grandmother was not alone; his grandfather was sitting next to the tree of wisdom, waiting for her.

In a KidSpirit Fiction story, teen writer Ruth Benitez Escobar searches for the purpose of life.

The Tree of Wisdom

Adya Sarin

The thing about this book is that it feels as though we’ve lived the protagonist's life by the end of it.

Having evolved from a failed magazine article about Ali Benjamin (the author’s) newfound fascination with jellyfish, The Thing About Jellyfish masterfully weaves together a coming-of-age story with a deeper, more implicitly metaphorical understanding of the human psyche. Having read this at the ripe age of 10, I know for a fact that the profound impact the book had on my understanding of the world was intentional. Ali Benjamin’s ability to deliver a meaningful message through the lines of a realistic young adult novel is nothing short of fascinating.

Suzy Swanson is your typical seventh grader. Franny Jackson is her best friend, and together they have made a promise to always stay friends and never become like the other “snotty girls” in their year. But when they enter middle school, Franny finds new friends, leaving Suzy confused, hurt, and, most frighteningly, alone. However, Franny’s life is cut short over the summer break when she drowns in Maryland, leaving Suzy disconcerted. Her already fragmented understanding of the world breaks down and Suzy finds herself without a voice; the trauma of Franny’s death drives her to stop speaking entirely. After a school trip to the aquarium, Suzy learns about jellyfish and imagines that jellyfish were the cause of Franny’s death. The rest of the book takes the reader on Suzy’s, quite frankly, tumultuous journey in search of tangible evidence (in the form of Dr. Jamie Seymour) to back up this seemingly arbitrary claim. As she navigates this volatile time, the quest for scientific discovery is her only anchor. Suzy’s newfound fascination with jellyfish consumes her, and her need to dissect and understand Franny’s cause of death distracts her from her grief.

Benjamin has done an astounding job with Suzy’s narrative voice; reading it feels like skimming through the pages of a 12-year-old’s diary. It's through her oscillation between a very matter-of-fact tone and an exaggeratedly whimsical one that the character stands out as authentic, the feelings genuine, and the plotline believable. Benjamin's melancholic, pensive, and, at times, wistful descriptions leave a profound mark on the reader’s understanding of the text and of Suzy’s obscure emotional state, allowing her grief to seep into us. I suppose one element that truly stands out when looking at the book in its entirety is that Suzy never explicitly allows herself to grieve, or even accept the death of her best friend for what it was — a freak accident. Her own subconscious ignorance of the event that has taken place and her immediate need to rationalize the death through scientific yet at times elegiac prose particularly resonates with the reader. The author’s in-depth exploration of the adolescent human mind after having to confront something as traumatic and unprecedented as the death of a loved one is very well done.

The plot itself is relatively straightforward, and Suzy’s journey through the challenges of middle school is written in a way that is both practical and relatable to the reader. Although Suzy’s actions may come across as arbitrary at times, they remain grounded in her grief. Benjamin effectively captures Suzy’s awkward adolescence, be it through her isolation from the rest of her classmates, the anxiety that arises at the prospect of giving an oral presentation to the rest of her class, or her capricious relationship with her now-divorced parents.

Although the book was primarily written for a similarly middle school audience, the themes of grief, mourning, and acceptance Benjamin explores appeal to a wide variety of age groups. The universal experience of loss is beautifully delineated in less than 400 pages of fictional prose. Personally, I recommend this book to every single person I meet. Having read it in the fifth grade, I continue to carry it around with me everywhere I go, reading it when I have to confront my own emotions at arbitrary points in the day.

I would give the book five stars out of five. I didn’t see, and still don’t see, any moments where the plot line is lagging, or the characters are inconsistent, or any aspect of the book’s universe is out of place. Suzy’s emotional and mental well-being (or lack thereof) is highly emphasized, since our vantage point of the world is solely through her eyes. The book depicts what it means for your world to break down right at your hands — something the reader hopefully never has to endure.

In a KidSpirit Media review, teen writer Adya Sarin recommends Ali Benjamin's young adult novel, The Thing About Jellyfish. 

The Thing About Jellyfish: An Exploration into the Human Mind

Avishi Gurnani

Clad in a suit of
Grey-green
An arm, a leg
Stiff, of no use
Or was it because
They were
made of plastic

Emerge onto the battlefield
A hundred together
Poised to shoot
Every shot emanating power
A lethal conundrum
Or were these bullets
made of plastic

The excitement
Infectious — exhausting — resentment
Adrenaline coursing
Unrestricted on the battlefield
Or was it confined
To a playbox
made of plastic

As the bullets sped
Through the air
As they pierced through him
He fell — perished?
Was it the dead end
Or was this

The blood is warm
The tears are salty
The pain hurts
The cries are loud
Wonder if it’s a ruse to rack
Hope it isn’t the disparate reality
Hope we know that it’s time to stop

In a KidSpirit poem, teen poet Avishi Gurnani wonders if we understand the true meaning of the battlefield. 

Lethal Conundrum

Xiaoxiao Chen

Dance often does not receive the examination that it deserves. Nevertheless, its many traits set the genre apart from other arts.

Art and meaning have always been symbiotic. 

As a form of expression that transcends the limitations of language, especially written text, art serves as a highly versatile medium for artists to convey vague emotions and ideas, and explore philosophical topics that may otherwise be too complex to be discussed with words. It is through art that many of the intangible aspects of our personal experiences are captured and conveyed to our audiences.

The word “art” originates from the Latin word “ars,” meaning “practice, skill, craft, or work of art.” It is apparent that early civilizations viewed art as a practical skill, and it was often aimed to either imitate the objective world or serve practical functions, such as honoring the gods and royalty, educating the public, and recording historical events. However, as we enter a new artistic era characterized by modern and postmodern thinking, the meaning of art has undoubtedly shifted to a form of more personalized, creative, and free expression of the artist, and its form has become increasingly diverse. Thus, in today’s world, art is associated with meaning in many ways. However, dance, as a very important art genre, often does not receive the examination of meaning that it deserves, unless presented in a manifestly abstract way. Nevertheless, its many traits set the genre apart from other arts, allowing it to be an ideal and one-of-a-kind tool for the expression of meaning.

One of the most important characteristics of dance is its transience. Marcia Siegel, a renowned dance critic, wrote in 1972 that dance “exists as a perpetual vanishing point” and that it occurs in “an event that disappears in the very act of materializing.” It is precisely this characteristic of dance that makes it unique in its role as a means of the exploration and representation of meaning. Though pre-choreographed in many cases, it is almost impossible for even the same dance to be identical in every performance, making it impossible to replicate, which means that it has a strong connection with time, nature, and existence itself. Therefore, it is suitable for both the dancer and the audience to examine and contemplate meaning during this fleeting, unrepeatable experience.

A renowned contemporary dancer who made use of this characteristic to express meaning in his work is Bill T. Jones, who was not only a choreographer during his career but also an activist addressing social issues such as racism and AIDS. In his controversial work Still/Here, Jones implemented a number of media, including images, audio, text, and music, into this dance to capture the experience of living with a terminal disease. The ephemerality and non-replicability of dance served as a strong reminder of the transience and fragility of life in this work, and expressed the inquiries the artist had about our existence.

In a KidSpirit Feature article, teen writer Xiaoxiao Chen examines how one art form, dance, is a powerful yet transitory representation of our search for meaning.

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