Unexpected February Freeze

Written by Isabella Gao

Photo by Emilie Cooper

With quotes by Nathan Shibley and Parker Smith

On the eleventh day of February, after the community-wide acceptance that the end of winter had arrived, it unanticipatedly began to snow.

On Thursday, when the snow began, a thin dusting of snow covered the ground and then blew away soon after. However, by Sunday morning, the entirety of Richland was covered in snow drifts of one to two feet. For a town within a dried-out shrub steppe, the community was completely shocked. The Tri-Cities had been encapsulated by the solid powdery snow in time for Valentine’s Day. Hanford students had ranging views on the sudden snow, which would’ve certainly shut down school if it had been in-person.

Parker Smith (09) said, “I saw that it would snow on the forecast, but not this much. I think it’s been one or two years since the last big snow I’ve experienced here in Richland.”

Nathan Shibley (12) echoed similar sentiments. He said, “I could neither say that I expected or did not expect snow. February is probably one of the worst months in the Tri-Cities. The snow made it move faster, so that is a positive.”

Although nobody in Richland expected over a foot of snow, plenty of students took advantage of the rare weather and had fun outdoors.

“I went sledding, fell sledding, built a snowman named Herald, made snow angels, and shoveled, shoveled, and shoveled. My sister, mom, and I had to keep shoveling our driveway [for hours], and we also helped three of our neighbors with their driveways too,” said Parker.

Nathan said, “ I built ski jumps and then thought about the possibilities that they represented. By the time I had built the jumps and thought of the possibilities, the snow was gone. Since I love watching people crash their cars, I was sad to see the snow gone so quickly.”

Parker agreed to some extent, saying, “I loved playing in the snow! It was so nice for me because I hate when it’s bitterly cold, but there’s no snow. It also gave me a good excuse to drink hot cocoa in February. Of course, I was disappointed when the snow melted, but it left perfectly too. It was gone just in time for school activities and in-person school to start up.”

After the great Valentine’s Day hassle, students bundled in mittens and scarves were ready to finally return to in-person school for the first time in the 2020-2021 school year on February 22nd, after one last satisfying snowfall to signal the official end of winter.

This is the Story of Ollie Soto

Trigger Warning: S*xual Assault, Depr*ssion, Su*cide

Story and photo by Ollie Soto

Edited by Isabella Gao

Interviewed by Emilie Cooper

note: Ollie uses they/them pronouns

A few months ago, I was celebrating my one-year-anniversary of being attempt-free with my therapist, and she had me go all the way back to when it had first started, back to seven-year-old Ollie. Back to crying in the shower.

Some of the few memories I have in my dad's tiny two bedroom apartment are of me crying in the shower. Let me set the scene. It’s five in the morning, your parents are midway through divorce, and you don't understand a thing. The longest you’ve been away from your mom is only a night.

I always thought I was “Daddy’s strong little girl” who didn't need to cry. But in reality I was a wuss. I would sob in the shower at my Dad's apartment and cry out, “I want my Mommy.” Nobody had told me what was happening. Little me didn’t understand this feeling, it was more than a need for my mother’s loving embrace. It was a want to disappear. Now, thinking about it, this probably only strengthened my anxiety. I was tired of meeting new people and being forced to call this woman I had only met yesterday ‘Mom.’ I didn't want to do it. I didn't want to live. I wanted to fall asleep and stay asleep. All at age eight.

After talking with my current therapist about it, she helped me understand that it was the only way my depression knew how to help me at the time. I didn't have anyone to talk to. I didn’t know how to talk to them. How does an eight-year-old tell their parents that they don't want to be around anymore? It only knew how to isolate me.

This led to an addiction of being online. I had especially found comfort in the horror stories called ‘creepypastas.’ This didn’t help me as it exposed me to all kinds of new vocabulary. It romanticized depression for me and sent me into denial on if I was depressed or not. All because my depression wasn’t as bad as others. And then I wrote my first note. Age nine. It wasn’t written with a plan but rather, an intent. The idea of taking my own life didn’t seem harmful at the time. I had almost welcomed it. But my stepmom had soon found it and told my Mom and my at-the-time therapist.

The thing about my stepmom is that she'd never handled any kind of mental health problem. Up until it was about her kid, she was the (type of) person who would say a kid was faking it. When I was little, I didn't like her or her kids. It felt like I was being left behind whenever I was at Dad’s house. She had a set of new rules for me and my brothers and didn’t even notice she was playing favorites. Favoritism played a big role in my life.

I remember watching the 3 am infomercials like it was yesterday. I had stayed up all day and night from being sick and I was consistently picking up the bowl placed by my bed for (throwing up). I had barely gotten an hour of sleep that entire night. When I was woken up for school, I was still sick and was forced to go to school. I didn’t have a choice, but my siblings could fake a sickness any time or skip class and get away with it. Overall, I was unheard in the house. I didn't feel comfortable, and the only way for my depression to be okay, was to comfort me with thoughts and attempts. My insurance had also stopped covering my therapy, so my parents deemed me “better.”

And then, I started middle school. This is where that second trigger warning comes in. I was ten and he was thirteen at the time. He had actually gone out of his way to “do this for me.” And I don’t know what was going on in his brain, but I know that when I was thirteen, I had never thought about teaching a ten-year-old how to masturbate. As my dad puts it, “I am blowing this out of proportion.” I know he didn’t touch me then, but he sure as hell tried. I tried telling others, but they just didn’t listen.

Also at this time, I had figured out that I wasn’t cisgender/heterosexual. The one mistake I made back then was that I was a little too open about it. This led to many arguments and yelling fits between me and my parents. (Remembering) the things they said to me still affects me to this day. I know it really hit me hard then too, sending me to this darker spot in my life. I always tie these two things together because my parents couldn’t see past the fact that I wasn’t cisgender, and see what he had tried to make me do.

This reaction had only led to me being quieter about the situation. I didn’t tell my biological mother until I was fifteen or so. This had led into my seventh-grade year. The year I really tried. I think my concept of life at this time was warped. I didn’t care if I lived or died. Like that one Vine said, “I wanna lay down and stay down”. Unlike my attempts before, I had calmed down. I didn't wonder about these brutal or gruesome ways people could find me dead. But rather, never waking up again. This led to two different “disappointing” mornings of actually waking up. I'm pretty sure I had a death day set in mind at this time. February 24th? I can't remember. But it was bad enough that I thought it would be appropriate to tell someone, I was just so damn tired at this point.

For context, my depression and I had been friends for a while now. What, almost five years now? I think we had worn each other out. They just wanted to get away but I knew I felt like there was the smallest reason to stay. I think that's why I told her.

My school counselor. I told her. I told her that I didn’t want to stick around. Because maybe the light at the end of the tunnel had something to say. Maybe it wasn’t a light but rather, a person. I wanted to meet them. We wanted to meet them. I was pulled out of class by fifth-hour. I sat in the back of my parents’ red minivan and was asked if there was anything I wanted to talk about. I laughed and said no. I mean, why would they suddenly want to comfort me? Maybe the crazy thought that something bad they did would end up in my final words. I mean, it would have.

I saw a psychiatrist and I told her everything, including the day of reckoning. She did little to nothing, just said I needed to see a therapist. She was cold. I had just given her the non-tl;dr of my life and how I wanted to end it. I was twelve by then. So I saw Shawnna. She had told me everything was going to be okay. She engaged, took notes, and listened to me. She cared more about my feelings and how I saw things, rather than how my parents saw or felt things. She started me on my recovery journey. But that didn’t last too long. I think I saw her for a little over a year before I yet again, “was all better”. And we stopped. But in that (short) time, he did it again. This time, he did touch me. What was a “joke” to him, had rearranged my entire way of living.

I’d been in my room and he had trapped me. The same room as before. Yet again, going out of his way to pause what we were doing to reach and look at my chest. I’d worn just a tank top and pajama pants, because it happened at night. He was fifteen and I was twelve. After this, I agreed with myself to never leave my room braless. I would wear one as soon as I got out of my morning shower and wouldn’t take it off until I was in my bed and the lights were out. I still live by these rules. I saw myself starting to slip, and then it all came crashing down.

Spring break of 8th grade year, or 2018 spring break, happened.

He had planned on shooting up Hanford High and then coming home and murdering his family. He didn’t, but still he thought about it, and reported himself for thinking and planning it. All the attention had been switched to him. And suddenly we were supportive and didn’t think that people just faked mental illness. That made me furious. They’d known about my attempts and nothing happened, but the second the adults and favorites were in trouble, it suddenly mattered.

At this point, I hadn’t seen my therapist in months and I was just starting my freshman year. And this is when I figured out what seasonal depression is.

I have this thing, where I somehow become very actively suicidal every Marching Band season. I didn't know why, I just knew that every year I had a plan for that last competition to go home and take my life. It actually got so bad that one day I had almost done it without noticing. All I remember is being in way too much pain, then downing an entire small pill-bottle of pain meds. This was freshman year, I thought nobody liked me and everyone thought that I was rude. I felt like I was bad at the one thing I had looked forward to. I just gave up at that moment. But something in me regretted it. Some small part of my brain said, “wait no, there's still more” I coughed it all up, and I tried hard. I mean, I had never tried to make myself throw up before. I continued my freshman year, I didn't look back. Once I got my two seconds of hope at the end of the season, that was all I needed. I think I just had to leave it behind.

Sophomore year was the hardest. Before the first competition, I had a plan. But I knew I wanted to be a story, not a statistic. So I told a close friend. I told her my plan. She was my therapist when I didn't have one. She was literally like my mom. I loved her to death and I could have never asked for a better friend. I think the thing that pulled me to tell her is because she was the first person to include me. She wanted me to be there during freshman year. She truly cared if I took my life unlike all the other people I had told.

October 26th 2019, was the day I was actually going to take my life. I had prepared for this moment since that first day I cried in the shower at my dad’s tiny apartment. And I lived my last day like any other. I spent it with one of my oldest friends. I made my last great memories with her and I was ready to play my last notes. I said my goodbyes to my mom. And there she was. My dearest friend.

I think that the saddest part of my story is how normal suicide had become for me. I didn't fear death, I accepted it. In the worst way possible too. It was like reciting a boring day to my parents or sitting in math class. It bored me. It wasn’t special, I wasn’t special. But she made me feel special. And I think that's why I changed and stayed that night. That night, I lied to my friend. I saw her, and accepted her hug, and told her, “I'm not going to do it, I like winning too much and these moments too much to give it all up.” Then she responded with, “good.” Her smile had been soft and she had grasped my cold hands, “I like it when you stay here.”

That was the moment I decided to stay. Because before then, I was never told to. I was never told that someone, just one (person), liked me being around. I had isolated myself eight or so years before this. But then, I chose to open up. To accept that death isn’t bad, but it's not good. Finally, all these years of numbness and being scared were at rest. My depression stopped being angry.

Riot at the Capitol: a Review by our History Teachers

Written by Isabella Gao

Illustrated by Emilie Cooper

With quotes by Nathan Suggs and Matthew Leggett

Six days into the start of 2021, the United States Capitol building was swarmed by a group of protesters there to defend President Donald Trump, after they refused to accept his loss in the 2020 Presidential Election which had occurred on November 3rd of the previous year.

Animosity surrounding the 2020 Presidential Election has been tense, after questions of American public health amidst the SARS-COV 2 pandemic and racial injustices caused brutal debates between the two candidates, current President Trump, and former Vice President Biden. This is the first time since August 24th, 1814, that invaders marched into Washington and disturbed the Capitol building. Over two centuries ago, the invaders were armed British forces who were fighting the United States in the War of 1812. The incident that occurred at the beginning of this month was no move by foreign assailants, however. This was solely due to radial Trump supporters who refused to accept the Democratic victory.

Nate Suggs, a U.S. history teacher, discussed the riots with his classes in January, making many aware of the historical connotations of this event.

“In my view, while Americans have a Constitutionally-protected right and freedom to peacefully protest, those that breached the Capitol and/or participated in physical assault went beyond their protected Constitutional rights, not to mention simply exhibiting disregard for others’ rights and property. This was a clear effort to overthrow civil authority and disrupt the Democratic process (of certifying the election) by force.”

Similarly, Matthew Leggett, a world history teacher, also condemns the rioters heavily.

“Such violent actions have no place in U.S. politics or any other arena. I believe in the rule of law. The US Constitution guarantees the right to peaceably assemble to protest, but not to riot. Destroying property, assaulting law enforcement officers, and making threats is not protest; it is violence. While “domestic terrorists” could be a legitimate label, I think rioters is an appropriate term. While they may have seen themselves as patriots, I think patriots pursue their grievances according to the rule of law, not violence. Patriots don’t attack others while fulfilling their constitutional obligations.”

After reaching the press, the riot at the Capitol was immediately linked to President Trump’s speech at his Save America March, where he said “We’re going to walk down to the Capitol, and we’re going to cheer on our brave senators and congressmen and women, because you’ll never take back our country with weakness.” Both Mr. Suggs and Mr. Leggett highly disapproved of his participation in the accumulation of aggression by the rioters.

“I have never experienced a presidential election in this country in which one of the candidates laid the groundwork for disputation and then claimed the election was rigged after he lost. His rhetoric and assertions that the election had been stolen stoked the anger of the rioters, and they did what they did for his sake. This means, as a leader, he had an obligation to speak out to quell the anger and stop the riots. Why did this happen? I think Donald Trump’s character will not allow him to concede defeat. And it seems truth, for him, is whatever serves his ends. It pains me to think this of our president, because my instincts are to trust that government officials are in it for the right reasons,” Mr. Leggett said.

Mr. Suggs reviewed the past elections of American history and determined that this one was unlike any other, even in regards to those where disbelief over the results and instigation occurred.

“There have been 3 previous presidents who didn’t attend their successor’s inauguration but none of those 3 implicitly or explicitly advocated violent retribution. This was a culmination of previous statements the outgoing president made that gave silent support to fringe groups and plain silence, which accounts to support, when those groups turned to violence. [Trump] should have accepted his defeat in the election much sooner before this ever became an option. Once this was planned, and it wasn’t a secret, he should have quieted the rumblings instead of feeding the flame with unsubstantiated claims.”

Was the riot an act of patriotism or an act of domestic terrorism? These two definitions of the act split the opinions of those at the riot with the majority of American watchers.

Mr. Leggett said, “While domestic terrorism is a possible description, I don’t think it was any of those; I think it was the act of a mindless mob, responding to a strong but vague desire to disrupt the proceedings. While some of the rioters conducted premeditated actions, there was not a coordinated attack. Once in the Capital, the rioters appeared to be milling about in an aimless fashion. I think the actions of the rioters were driven by fear and anger and a misguided desire to “do something” without much thought to the consequences of their actions. Did they really think they were going to overturn the election?”

Mr. Suggs believes it was definitely an act of domestic terrorism, but knows there are several people who believe in the opposite.

“There are always multiple viewpoints based on previous experiences, thoughts, and perceptions. It’s sometimes difficult to remember that another individual’s view is just as valid to them as our viewpoints are to us. It would be great if we could settle them with dignity and respect,” he said.

The pro Trump riots in Washington DC were linked with similar rallies in the Black Lives Matter movement last summer and fall, with some arguing that these rioters deserve the support that those in a different movement received.

Mr. Suggs said, “I personally don’t like the linking of the events because I think there are two different issues going on and with much different causes. But, there is a connection between the groups in that both perceive that they have been persecuted and were left with no other options. And perception tends to be reality to the person who perceives it, despite what it looks like from the outside. I feel like the real question here is, ‘Do we still have a long way to go in improving race relations in the United States?’ Yes, yes we do.”

Mr. Leggett said, “Given the riots we have seen in the last 7 months that were associated with the BLM movement, it is natural to see another riot in that context. Many rioters in the summer did attack law enforcement officers and government buildings, so this looks similar. Also, the images of the Washington D.C. riots come to us through the same medium—through a screen. We view both on the same electronic devices. This also gives them a similar cast. I think it is important for the individual to discern the differences and also decry the normalization of violence for political ends being used both the right and the left. I think it is important in any riot to remember the humanity of all of those who are there, no matter what color of their skin.”

Another conflict that quickly arose after the quenching of the riot was how to punish the rioters. Should they be condemned or was this act justifiable by revolutionaries?

Mr. Suggs said, “I actually think law enforcement acted in the best possible manner if the result was to keep violence at a minimum, especially since they were vastly outnumbered at the beginning of the event. That said, I found myself nodding vigorously when former Washington D.C. police chief Charles Ramsey wondered why, with 2,000 Capitol police officers and other law enforcement nearby, there weren’t more present at the beginning of the ‘protests’ when this was a well-publicized event and not a spontaneous rally.”

“I think they should do just what they are doing, hold the rioters accountable by arresting them, trying them in court, and dispensing justice as appropriate. [They should] deliberate in Congress and take appropriate action to hold the President accountable, such as impeachment or invoking Section 4 of the 25th Amendment, and increasing security around government buildings. But in any course of action, I think it is important to preserve Constitutional freedoms such as freedom of speech and freedom of assembly. If the result of the riots is to curtail these freedoms, the rioters have done real damage to our republic,” Mr. Leggett said.

The riots caused intense upheaval in the first month of 2021, causing Americans to question the election process like they’ve never had to in the past. Mr. Suggs and Mr. Leggett both believe the rioters should be punished, and this opinion is extremely common in the U.S. As Benjamin Franklin said, “Those who give up essential liberty to purchase a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety.”