By Tony Yin, AASU’s 2013/2014 Sports Coordinator

            Once as a child, I woke up from a nap and observed light silently slip through my window. The wrinkled rays of illuminated dust drifted in lazy swirls and loops, and I laughed in a dreamy stupor. I sat in the warm glow and listened for the quiet impact along the carpet, releasing a short gasp as the sprinkle of silence lingered. The light once more tugged at my eyelids with a blanket of solace.

           The next time I woke up, my eyes popped open. This time, it wasn’t a lazy stroll – it was a lightning strike, bold and loud, as I sat up. I wasn’t a child anymore, but I wasn’t completely grown up either. I sat on the playground swing of what it meant to stay naïve but still knew how life strangled our words — words I never learned to use because no one dared to teach me.  So I sat blowing bubbles, the only audible sound the breath from a little boy’s mouth could make as he tried to let the words come out, but all he saw were silent reflections.

           The only problem with blowing bubbles is they eventually pop. While we go about poking each soapy sphere, we rarely think about the rewards. The reward for releasing each tiny prisoner — small ideas that are now allowed to roam free. Then we let them grow, bigger and bigger, until they too become oceanic bubbles and swallow small hopes and dreams. The cycle always continues. Even when we think we’ve stitched our way out, there’s another one to give us a sticky-note hug. With so much to look forward to, there’s no time to look back at pages we’ve already read.

          And as my playgrounds changed from pale deserts to sandy beaches, I always wondered why we ignored the caution signs, warning us of the road ahead just like lemons warn us of a sour taste. Our beams created reflections that flashed so brightly there could be no way to ignore them. So I started looking for them. And the longer I looked; the more I noticed others were beginning to look too. And the more people who noticed the signs meant less people choked on bubbled words waiting to pop. It meant more children floated to sleep instead of falling into nightmares.  The caution signs warn us of the dangers ahead, but the color lets us know everything will be all right.