a fsyf newsletter for kids & teens...small loaves of bread, watermelon, candy bars, and an...

A FSYF

Newsletter for

Kids & Teens

Summer 2014

Art Contest Winners, aged 5-8

2-4

Kid Vid Winner, 1st place 5


7-9

Kid Vid Winner, 2nd place 11

Middle School Essay Contest Winners

12-17

Community Service Award Winners

18-19

KidVid Winners, 3rd place 20


22-25

High School Essay Contest Winner

26-31

25th Anniversary Logo Contest

32

Participating Posts Map 34

FSYF gratefully acknowledges

our newsletter sponsor:

Congratulations to Alison

Dominguez (left) for winning

awards in three of our contests!

Read about the winners and

check out their winning

submissions inside.

http://www.mcgrathrealestate.com/

Sponsored by McGrath Real Estate Services

Sabra is the 8 year- old daughter of Heidi Soule and

Jeffrey Goveia, currently posted to Chisinau,

Moldova where Sabra is a rising 3rd grader at Qual-

ity Schools International. Previous posts include

Kampala, Uganda. Sabra has many interests, but

apparently none greater than cats. She won this

category last year with a cat-focused entry and

she’s at it again this year. Wonders Sabra: “Will hu-

mans ever worship cats again like we did in ancient

Egyptian times? That is my world of wonders”. Sa-

bra’s cat, Patrick, serves as inspiration for her.

When she’s not drawing or thinking about cats, Sa-

bra enjoys swimming with her sister Hazel.

1st place

Cat Workshop: The Magic Mau

Sabra Goveia Chisinau, Moldova

http://www.mcgrathrealestate.com

Here, There and Everywhere

2nd place

Abigail Bills

Jakarta, Indonesia

Abigail is the 7 year-old daughter of Thomas and Rebecca Bills who, along with Abigail’s

five sisters and brothers, are currently posted to Jakarta, Indonesia where she attends Ja-

karta International School. The family previously served in Brasilia, Brazil. About her art-

work ‘, Abigail says, “Batik is a traditional Indonesian art form that uses wax, dyes and pen-

cil on cloth. This batik reminds me of Indonesian flowers and fish. I love doing Batik be-

cause it is fun and beautiful.” In her free time, Abigail enjoys making things from recycled

materials, watching shows on Netflix and swimming with her friends.

Batik is Wonderful


3rd place

Annika Bitner Jerusalem

Wonderful Flowers

Annika is the daughter of Steven and Katie Bitner,

currently posted to Jerusalem. Along with her sib-

lings Brady, Sophia and Lydia, and her parents,

Annika has lived in Washington and Costa Rica.

Annika’s mixed-media artwork depicts flowers that

she’d collected and pressed and later embellished

with water colors and pencils in six separate and

colorful scenes. “I think it’s wonderful when flow-

ers grow in the springtime,” says Annika whose

world of wonders is right in her own neighborhood.

In addition to her art, Annika enjoys ballet, piano,

and singing.



First place winner Elan Albalak (age 11) provided an

engaging narrative throughout his production on life

in the Caribbean city of Bridgetown, Barbados. His

comprehensive and well-organized video covered all

the required content elements, as well as an in-

depth interview with the ambassador, which would

appeal to both youth and adults.

Elan Albalak Bridgetown, Barbados

1st place


Melody is the 9 year old daughter of Scott and Eve

Reynolds, currently posted to Ottawa, Canada, where

Melody is in the 4th grade at the Elmwood School.

Previous posts include Pretoria, South Africa and

Moscow, Russia. This is the second year in a row that

Melody has won an art award. Melody’s winning art

is a bright and graphic piece which combines well-

known architectural, technological and natural won-

ders set inside the letters ‘WOW’. In her free time,

Melody enjoys reading, writing, drawing, ballet and

playing with her friends.

1st place

Melody Reynolds

Ottawa, Canada

My World of Many Wonders


2nd place

Jacob Newman Mbabane, Swaziland

Jacob is the 10 year old son of Ruth and Robert

Newman and the brother to Mia, Benjamin, Samuel

and Oliver, currently posted to Mbabane, Swaziland.

Jacob completed grade 5 at Usutu Forest Primary

School. Previous posts include Santo Domingo and

Stockholm. Jacob’s artwork is an eye-catching pencil

and watercolor piece that depicts bright blossoms

against a dark sky with Jacob’s personal wonders set

in the flowers’ centers. In his free time, Jacob enjoys

reading, biking and skateboarding.

Earthly Blossoms



3rd place

Soliana Doutrich Cuidad Juarez, Mexico

Soliana Doutrich is the eleven year-old daugh-

ter of Jack and Lori Doutrich, and a 5th grader at

Colegio San Patricio in Cuidad Juarez, Mexico.

Emily and her family of four have previously

served in Eritrea, Tunisia, Jordan and Uruguay.

In addition to her art, Soliana loves soccer and

reading. Soliana’s artwork highlights some of

the tourist highlights at posts that she has lived

in via a series of travel brochures gathered

around her diplomatic passport, signifying the

impact the Foreign Service has had on her child-

hood and perceptions of the world.

The Wonders of MY World


2nd place

Howard Brown Reykjavik, Iceland

Second place winner Howard Brown (age 10) offered an

inviting look at his daily life in Reykjavik, Iceland, the

world’s northernmost capital. His extensive coverage

and well-delivered narration included all relevant as-

pects of post life and his footage also highlighted some

of Iceland’s most exceptional sights: volcanoes, geother-

mal pools, black-sand beaches, and geysers.



2014 Topic

Describe what you can see from your window in your current or former residence. How does it affect your sense of self as an American Foreign Service youth?

“Crossing the Wire” by Madilyn Abbe

Almost hidden behind the towering palm trees and the bamboo stalks stands a tall brick wall. Small white flowers

litter my manicured lawn. A stalk of nearly ripe bananas hangs thick and heavy. This view from my window displays a tropical

paradise except for one thing. At the top of the brick wall, barbed wire twists like a snake. The menacing coils, covered with

metallic thorns, reflect the sun. It’s conflicting to see the perfect grounds contrast with the visible warning. And I find myself

asking: is the wire there to keep others out or is it there to keep me in?

I live in Jakarta, Indonesia. I am one person in a city with over 9 million people. Jakarta is a city with high-rise apart-

ments and gourmet restaurants overlooking slums with starving people who can barely afford to live in a shack. It is a city of

contrasts, just like my yard.

Madilyn is the daughter of Owen and Holly Abbe, currently

posted to Jakarta Indonesia where she attends Jakarta In-

ternational School. This is a first post for the Abbe family.

Madilyn’s essay beautifully describes the stark contrast be-

tween her view inside her compound wall and that on the

other side of the wall that is topped with barbed wire, and

the effect that disparity has had on her. Madilyn writes,

“Since my family and I have moved here, we have worked

hard to cross the barrier of the wire and the wall”, both lit-

erally and figuratively. Her first regular writing gig occurred

when she was 10. She wrote a monthly newspaper column

called “Leaps and Squeaks” for the Purcellville Gazette.

Madilyn aspires to continue improving her writing skills with

the hope of working in law or writing a Young Adult novel…

or both! In addition to writing, Madilyn enjoys soccer, sing-

ing, and playing the piano.

1st place

Madilyn Abbe

Jakarta, Indonesia



Outside my picture perfect compound lives a different world. While my roads are paved, these roads seem to be rotting.

They crumble and fall apart with grime coating them like an extra layer of skin. Indonesian workers, their feet bare and stained

orange from the red claylike soil, carry axes called potchels, over their shoulders. A family of four sleeps crammed together in a

shack that is smaller than my bathroom. Garbage pickers haul wooden carts up and down the street combing for trash. They pick

up armfuls of stinking rotten food and slimy waste with their bare hands. Rain pounds down on a homeless man who sleeps on the

hard and dirty concrete. Then there is the mother who holds her sleeping son while kneeling in the dirt. Flies swarm around them

while she pleads to everyone who passes her, “Sakit. Sakit. Sakit.” “Sick. Sick. Sick.”

People like this are everywhere. I see them every day. It would be so easy to ignore them, to keep going on with everyday

life and pretend they aren’t there, to hide behind my barbed wire and feel safe.

Many people do ignore them. They roll their windows up when beggars approach and walk past the garbage collectors,

pretending they’re not there. Perhaps it’s because the guilt and unfairness is too great to bear. But ignoring the poverty doesn’t

make it go away.

Somedays I think: maybe the barbed wire in my yard isn’t there to keep others out or to keep me in. Maybe it’s there to

keep me from seeing the hundreds of helpless and needy people. Maybe it is there to protect me from all the pain and misery that

is happening right outside my compound’s large green gate.

But there’s something funny about this rusty barbed wire: it’s beginning to fall apart.

Since my family and I have moved here, we have worked hard to cross the barrier of the wire and the wall. We try to reach

out and change as many lives as possible. And strangely enough, we are changed more than the people we help.

Six months ago, on a hot Saturday afternoon our family drove to help a school connected with a leprosy colony. Outside

the school, the parents of the school children waited. Due to their illness, many were missing fingers and parts of their ears.

The school was very poor. Many of the kids had never owned a pencil. But despite their lack of materials, every single

child greeted us with a smile. Working together, my family and I helped set up a library.

Although the library was small and there were only about fifty books, the children were ecstatic. They swarmed around

the library full of laughter. But right outside the door to the library their commotion stopped. One by one each child took of their

shoes and left them outside the doorway in a show of respect before entering. The row of shoes extended down the hallway. I was

humbled. Each child walked away with a new book that day, but my family and I walked away with a lot more.

This past Christmas Eve my family decided we’d dedicate the day to serving others. We rushed to the store and bought

small loaves of bread, watermelon, candy bars, and an Indonesian drink called Pocari Sweat. Together we assembled small bags full

of the food. Then we all piled into the car. Our plan was to drive around Jakarta handing out these bags. We didn’t need to go far.

Right outside our compound an old lady and her granddaughter worked side by side picking for trash. We pulled over. I

jumped out of the car and handed the lady the two goody bags. The old lady smiled. She then reached out, took my hand, and

pressed it to her forehead. In Indonesian culture this action demonstrates great respect and usually is done by children to their elders. I

felt tears well up in my eyes, and I climbed back into our car and drove away.

We delivered these bags to two young mothers with children, road workers, and countless trash pickers. As soon as we ran out of

bags we hurried back to the store to make more. The rest of afternoon we continued to serve the homeless. It was the best Christmas Eve I

have ever experienced.

The coil of barbed wire gleams in the afternoon haze. The palm branches sway and whisper in the breeze. There are days I’m

grateful for my peaceful yard, my bubble of safety. I’m thankful for the protection of the sharp barbed wire. But it’s the days I’ve crossed

that wire, stepped onto the potholed streets of Jakarta and tried to do something for someone, even as little as handing out a bag of food, that

have made my overseas experience memorable. The view from my window doesn’t show me limitations…it shows me endless possibilities,

as long as I’m willing to cross the wire.


“My Window on the World” by Liam Rathke

When I look out my window in the center of Malaysia’s capital, I immediately see that a nation trying hard to

belong to the future. Kuala Lumpur is transforming before my eyes - physically, culturally, economically, socially -

from what was once a small trading town into a global metropolis. Everywhere I look, I see reflections of Malaysia’s

ambitions to become a modern, rich country. Glitzy malls, state-of-the-art hospitals and luxurious apartment com-

pounds rise from the ashes of decaying colonial-era bungalows. One hundred years ago, British governors and Chi-

nese merchants who managed the tin and rubber boom that made Kuala Lumpur a mecca for oriental trade lived in

stately buildings like these. But, with colonialism long gone and land prices rising drastically, historic buildings now

make way for skyscrapers piercing the clouds. This is the new city, changing outside my window. Seeing these

changes daily, I am constantly confronted with questions of my own identity: Can one see, looking at me, where I

have been and what my future holds?

Liam is son of Jeff Rathke and Mia Meyler, and the brother of Clara Rathke. He will be moving to the Washington, DC area this summer after finishing 8th grade at the International School of Kuala Lumpur, Ma-laysia. Liam has previously lived in Brussels, Berlin, Washington, Dublin and Moscow and speaks three lan-guages fluently (German, French and English) and is trying hard to learn some Mandarin. Liam’s essay sets up an intriguing comparison between the changing view outside his window of a rapidly developing Kuala Lumpur and the changes taking place within himself. “Seeing these changes daily, I am constantly con-fronted with questions of my own identity: Can one see, looking at me, where I have been and what my future holds?” In his free time, Liam likes reading, LEGO and photography. He also enjoys participating in FSYF contests; he came in second in the 2012 Middle School art competition.

2nd place

Liam Rathke

Kuala Lumpur,

Malaysia



When I look out my window, I also see why Malaysia is called the melting pot of Asia. Three main ethnicities

mingle outside - Malay, Chinese, and Indian – and follow four of the world’s main religions: Islam, Buddhism, Christian-

ity, and Hinduism. In addition, a smattering of indigenous tribes and descendants of Arab and European traders (who

arrived some 500 years ago) also call themselves citizens of this multi-cultural nation. All get along rather peacefully,

the diverse cultures intertwining in many instances. Ramadan, Chinese New Year, Christmas, and Deepavali (the Indian

festival of light) are celebrated with equal importance, and, it seems, by all. Local food blends spices, flavors and tech-

niques from each ethnic cuisine. “Manglish,” the unofficial vernacular, combines Malay, English, Cantonese, and other

dialects. This melting pot of peoples who make “Malaysia Truly Asia” reminds me of my own country’s strength in its

diversity. It also makes me ask myself what it means to be American?

But, when I look out my window, I realize that Malaysia’s melting pot involves more than just its own citizens. I

also see hundreds of economic migrants, from Bangladeshi construction workers to Indonesian maids, who fuel this

city’s awe-inspiring metamorphosis - the rapid transformation from developing to developed nation. To the right of

the dilapidated bungalow sits a luxurious residential compound for expatriates like myself and the local (mainly Chi-

nese) elite. There’s a glass-encased swimming pool around which Filipina nannies care for young children while their

parents work. Indian cleaners sweep the paths. With the rich getting richer, crime has risen here, and I watch Nepal-

ese guards (employed for their loyalty) pace the grounds. Next door to that compound, Bangladeshi, Sri Lankan, Bur-

mese, and Cambodian laborers construct a “six-star” hotel, residence, and upscale mall. They’ve left behind families to

toil 12 hours a day, six days a week, under the blazing tropical sun. Seeing them, I realize how incredibly fortunate I

am: I have the luxury of a world-class education and economic freedom that ensures that I won’t have to risk my life

daily doing a job like this. Witnessing this stark economic and social hierarchy outside my window also affects my

sense of self. I am reminded that I, through an accident of birth to two American diplomats, am privileged to belong to

the richest one percent of the global population. And, I wonder how I can somehow make life better for the remaining

99?

Finally, when I look out my window, I see the landmark of modern Malaysia - the Petronas Twin Towers. 88

stories high, they were the tallest buildings on earth when they were completed in 1998. Built as part of a government

initiative to become a “first-world” country by 2020, the towers not only represent Malaysia’s aspirations, but also

celebrate human-kind’s soaring achievements. To me, they are pillars of hope. Seeing them out my window chal-

lenges me to think and dream about the possibilities of my future and that of the world’s.

When I first woke up to this incredible view out my window nearly three years ago, I did not see these scenes

as I see them now. But living around people who speak different languages, have different nationalities, and are of

different races and ethnic backgrounds reminds me that I am not just a privileged Foreign Service youth in Malaysia,

but that I am someone shaped and changed by this view; someone whose identity goes beyond just his own heritage;

someone who is shaped by all of his diverse international experiences; someone who is part of something bigger. I am

an American Foreign Service Youth for sure, and, thanks to this view, that means I am also truly a citizen of the world.


“Gratitude” by Daisy Bailey

I was born in Nevada. I lived in a gated community across the street from a playground. When I looked out my

window I saw a neat row of identical houses. Every day I would ride my scooter to school through big, colorful, safe

parks. That was just the way things were. My friends and I always took for granted our clean, well-developed neighbor-

hood. I did not even realize some people did not have all these opportunities I had.

That all changed when I was five. My dad came home from his law firm and took my family out for dinner. I don’t

remember what he said during that dinner, but I know that was the day when my life changed forever. My dad had taken a

job with theFirst we moved to Virginia, where I realized my life could be different. For one thing the apartment I lived in was

much smaller than my house. I shared a bedroom with all three of my siblings. Our four beds were squished from wall to

wall. My brother, as the oldest, got the best bed, the one next to the window. To look out that window, I had to sneak to it.

Daisy is the daughter of Melinda and Heath Bailey and youngest of

four siblings. They are currently posted to Manila, Philippines

where Daisy attends the International School of Manila. Previous

posts include Latvia and Costa Rica. Daisy’s essay invites the

reader along on a progression of cities she was posted to, the re-

lated views from her bedroom window and the corresponding

changes to her outlook on the world. Of her latest view, Daisy re-

marks, “It is shocking to think that people live like this right over

my back wall, but it shows me that most of the world doesn’t have

big, colorful, safe playgrounds out their windows.” In her free

time, Daisy enjoys dance, gymnastics, piano, drama and rescuing

animals. Through her church and individually, Daisy is committed

to service, which has played an important role throughout her

childhood.

3rd place

Daisy Bailey

Manila, Philippines



Looking out that window was so different from looking out my window in Las Vegas. In Virginia I saw tall trees and green

grass, so different than the desert I left behind, but it was also similar. When I looked down I saw kids my age playing on a big, col-

orful, safe playground. It was smaller than the playground I left behind and there were different kids playing, but what I saw then

and what I understand now is that no matter where I go in the world kids are still kids and I can learn to make friends.

Even though I was only in Virginia for a couple months, I had great adventures and made lifelong friends. Living in Virginia

taught me the world is a big place and life can be hard. Making new friends and leaving my old ones behind is really tough. Fight-

ing over the bathroom with my siblings can get pretty annoying, and sometimes right when life seems to get comfortable, we have

to pack up, get on a plane, and head to the next post.

In this case our next post was Costa Rica, which meant leaving the United States for the first time in my life. I remember

San Jose, where we lived was so much dirtier than anywhere I had ever been before. Sometimes I was scared because a thick wall

surrounded our house with barbed wire at the top. Once, when my family looked out our window, we saw our neighbor get ar-

rested. The view from this window taught me that the world is not always colorful and safe. At this point in my life I was fright-

ened. I didn’t understand all the bad things that happened in my new home country and I began to be afraid of things that had

never frightened me before. For example, I stopped eating my favorite fruit, strawberries, because I didn’t understand why we had

to bleach them. Although this was hard, I soon realized that there were good things in Costa Rica. I saw jungles and beaches that

were breathtaking. I also went to a very fun school with a principal that I loved. The fruit was amazing in Costa Rica. In America, I

always thought that bananas were yellow and about nine inches long. In Costa Rica, there were so many more types. There were

short or long, red or green. One thing they had in common was their delicious taste.

The view from my window in Costa Rica showed me life could be scary but also fun and beautiful. I learned that I needed

to be careful but still have a good time.

After Costa Rica and a short year back in Virginia, we were posted in Latvia. Out my window I saw old buildings that

seemed more like art than houses. I remember the tram passing by our apartment day and night. What I remember more than

the view out my window was the sounds. I remember hearing the trash bins being pulled over the cobblestone, and crows cawing

in the night. When we first moved to Latvia, at night sounds would drive me crazy. I hated the way the snowplow would come in

the middle of the night and the tram driver would stop right outside our building. Soon I realized, however, that in a city some-

times people have to work through the night. I felt lucky because I could sleep in a nice warm room while some people had to be

facing the elements to work for a living that was nowhere near as nice as mine. When I learned to sleep through all the sounds of a

bustling city.

Now I live in the Philippines. Out my window, just beyond my backyard wall, is an “informal settlement” — squatters in

rickety houses — who face poverty like I have never known. They live near a stream that is so polluted it is almost toxic. Many of

these people spend their days selling things on the streets. Many of the children do not attend school so they can beg to support

their families. It is shocking to think that people live like this right over my back wall, but it shows me that most of the world does-

n’t have big, colorful, safe playgrounds out their windows.

I realize that I am lucky and that my challenges are nowhere near as hard as most other people’s. Growing up as a Foreign

Service youth shows me that the world can be harsh, that I am lucky, and that in the big world what people really need to realize is

how be grateful even if it’s hard.


Alice d’Aboville, age 17, is the daughter of Karen and

Alain d’Aboville, currently posted to Baghdad, Iraq while

Alice attends boarding school in the U.K. The d’Aboville

family has previously served in La Paz and Nairobi.

After traveling worldwide with her family, Alice decided

to settle at boarding school and graduated from ACS Cobham International School in England this spring where

she distinguished herself as an athlete and humanitarian. Shortly after settling in at school in the middle of her

sophomore year, Alice jumped into the leadership role as President of the Namibia Project. Alice worked tire-

lessly to raise funds through waffle sales, gala dinners, silent auctions, speeches, grant-writing and direct solici-

tations from private companies. She also applied for and received a grant from the J. Kirby Simon Trust, which

helped her earn approximately $65,000 for her project. Averaging 20 hours of work a week over 14 months, Al-

ice’s hard work paid off when she and her fellow Namibia Project participants spent a month in Namibia support-

ing a local at-need school: the team taught and tutored local students, painted classrooms, built a chicken coop,

and donated a truck and new school-wide uniforms. As a result of this formative experience, Alice plans to study

Development Studies in university. She will be attending University of Massachusetts Amherst in the fall.

Alice d’Aboville

Project Namibia 2013



Allison Dominguez

Alison Dominguez, age 18, is the daughter of FSO Stacy Pearce and

Daniel Dominguez, currently posted to New Delhi, India. Previous

tours include Jakarta, DC /Falls Church, Bogota and San Salvador.

Alison distinguished herself at the American Embassy School in New

Delhi as a compassionate and determined champion of women’s is-

sues. Prompted by the infamous rape case of a young Indian woman

in December 2012, Alison set out to make a difference. Combining her

love of art and fashion and her passion for women’s empowerment,

Alison and three of her classmates founded ‘Benefits of Fashion’, a

charity fundraiser to help support women’s empowerment in India.

The first year of her efforts, Alison managed 52 student models and

designers, recruited sponsors and hosted 500 people. The Benefits of

Fashion raised nearly $10,000 to support New Generation Trust, an

NGO working with abused women and children. The second year, Al-

ison built on her successes from the previous year, and attracted the

support of the World Economic Forum and a local Bollywood actress.

The show this year raised over $16,000 to support the local NGO Work

+ Shelter. Not willing to stop there, Alison worked to institutionalize

the benefit show so that it and its mission will endure after Alison

leaves for university. She will be attending the University of the Arts

London where she will study at the London College of communication

‘Benefits of Fashion,’ New Delhi, India


Sophie and Hugo Goddard

Conakry, Guinea

3rd place

Third place winners Hugo Goddard (age 13)

and Sophie Goddard (age12) presented their

unique perspective on life in the West Afri-

can post Conakry, Guinea, including some of

its challenges. Their production covered all

of the required elements, while it high-

lighted many of the popular community

events such as their Halloween celebration

with cleverly-carved watermelon jack-o-

lanterns. The final segment of their video fo-

cused on a day where the U.S. Marine

guards demonstrated many of their standard

physical drills to the embassy youth, who

were also allowed to practice with them.



1st place

Alison Dominguez

New Delhi, India

Alison Dominguez is the 18 year-old daughter of Stacy Pearce and

Daniel Dominguez, and sister of Kyle. The family is currently posted

to New Delhi, India where Alison just graduated from American Em-

bassy School. Previous posts include Jakarta, DC/Falls Church, Bo-

gota, and San Salvador. Alison’s previous travels figure prominently

in her submission which features a pen and ink drawing of a young

woman set amidst a backdrop of the globe, with a crown of architec-

tural landmarks perched atop her head. Remarks Alison, “…growing

up around the world has been a double-edged sword. Although fas-

cinating, has presented challenges. It is my crown of thorns but I

wouldn’t have it any other way. Alison will be attending the London

College of Communication at the University of the Arts London in the

fall.

Crown of Thorns



2nd place

Sam Mitchell

Seoul, South Korea

Detour to Tranquility

Sam is the 16 year old son of Michael Mitchell and Eniko

Bihari and, along with his parents and brother, is

currently posted to Seoul, South Korea where Sam at-

tends Seoul American High

School. Sam grew up and lived

in Hungary for 12 years and then

served in Trinidad and Tobago,

and Washington DC before mov-

ing to Seoul. Sam’s winning art-

work depicts and dreamlike en-

vironment where an isolate road

connects a series of levitating

islands set amidst a backdrop of

an ethereal night sky. “This

work represents my world of

wonders because it shows my

fascination with space and as-

tronomy and it demonstrates

my constant thoughts about life

outside our planet.” In addition

to his art, Sam enjoys surfing,

soccer and volleyball.


3rd place - Tie

Eliana Silver

Madrid, Spain

A Traveler’s Time

Eliana is the 14 year old daughter of

Margarita Gokun Silver and Keith

Silver who are currently posted to

Madrid, Spain where Eliana attends

SEK El Castillo. Eliana’s winning sub-

mission cleverly depicts her wonders

in the form of a clock, with each

quadrant documenting memorable

experiences from her childhood in

Buenos Aires, St. Petersburg, Miami

and Madrid. Eliana speaks Russian

and Spanish fluently, has traveled to

38 countries and would like to be an

actress when she grows up. In her

free time Eliana enjoys singing, act-

ing, piano, tennis and rhythmic gym-

nastics.


3rd place - Tie

Helen Reynolds

Ottawa, Canada

My World of Wonders

Helen is the 15 year old daughter of

Eve and Scott Reynolds, and the

older sister of fellow artist Melody

Reynolds, currently posted to Ot-

tawa, Canada where Helen attends

Ashbury College. Previous posts in-

clude Pretoria and Moscow. Helen’s

artwork is a set of three colorful

panels depicting human silhouettes

participating in life at her three

posts. When not enjoying art, Helen

sings, plays badminton and plays

cello.


1st place

Alison Dominguez

New Delhi, India

Check out page 22 for Alison’s

full bio!

“Home” by Alison Dominguez

It is not uncommon to feel ill and feverish in India, particularly after the end of the

monsoon and the change of season. The days change from blistering, unbearable

heat to cold thick fog. The smell of burning cow dung permeates the air as literally

millions of people in this overcrowded city try to keep warm. Alas, I found myself in

the nurse’s office soon after our first “cold” morning. I sat in the backroom, eyes

puffy, nose stuffy, waiting for the nurse to take my temperature, praying I didn’t

have a fever. Gaya walked in accompanied by a man I did not know but recognized from the gym.

“Hello Ali, how are you today?” Gaya was perky as always.

“Apart from being sick and first semester senior stress, everything is great. How does your daughter like college

in Virginia,” I asked with swollen eyes.

“She loves it! Where are you applying to university?”

A sense of panic set in as I responded, “I’m not 100% sure. I don’t know where I want to live.” The stranger,

eavesdropping on our conversation, interjected. “Well, where is home?”

And there it was, that dreaded four-letter word – home. “What should I say? How should I answer?” I racked my brain

for possibilities. New Mexico? Possible, most of my extended family lives there. San Diego? Could be, my dad moved

there last year. Virginia? Another possibility, I did live there during my freshman year. Maybe he was asking where I

was born. Colorado? I do have a driver’s license from there, but really have no intention of going to school there. Now

in a full state of panic I blurted out, “Where IS my home?” and laughed nervously.

This stranger had just broken the first rule: never ask a third culture kid, “Where is home?” I have known many homes:

San Salvador, Bogota, Jakarta, New Delhi, Fort Collins, Santa Fe, and Falls Church. But something tells me this is not

what this stranger meant by “home.”

Seriously…what is it about this four-letter word that makes me break out into a cold sweat? Is it my absolute

inability to define it? Is it that I don’t know the answer? Is it the fact that it makes me question my identity? Ah, there it

is…my identity. Yes, I said it. I have an identity crisis. It’s okay. I know I am not alone. I am a third culture kid. By the

time I was 15 years old, I had attended seven different schools and lived on 4 different continents. My first identity cri-

sis occurred when I lived in Bogota. I started to realize that the world is filled with stereotypes and misperceptions, tol-

erance and intolerance, frustration and understanding. I was able to see that I was different. People said things I didn’t

understand. Through the eyes of a Colombian, I saw perceptions of America that were unfair. Then, I went “home.”



In the U.S., I saw the world through the eyes of a typical American. That wasn’t right either. I found

myself defending both places.

“Tu eres una gringa.” This was not meant as a compliment. Regardless of my Hispanic heritage I was still

identified as a “gringa.” I had heard the expression before but never fully understood the negative connotation.

“You live in Colombia? You must be surrounded by cocaine and bombs.” “Do you know Pablo Escobar?”

“Actually, he’s dead.” This was a common response when people asked me about where I lived. It was so

frustrating. “I am not surrounded by drugs and weapons. That stereotype could not be further from the truth,” I

would say.

Two years later, I moved to Jakarta, Indonesia, the world’s most populous Muslim-majority country. Here, I

faced an entirely different set of challenges and a whole new set of misperceptions on both sides. I wondered how I

would be perceived in this culture where women traditionally cover. What I found was a very tolerant society but

one in which many Indonesians defined Westerners through what they perceived as an overabundance of sex in

western pop culture. Consequently, many thought western values were in contradiction to their own. I now felt not

only the need to defend Americans, but also to stand up for my rights as a woman.

When I returned to America, I heard people call all Muslims “Arabs” and “terrorists.” This angered me. I once

again found myself defending a culture that wasn’t mine.

“No, I said. You don’t understand. Indonesians are not like that. Yes, they are Muslim but that does not

make them terrorists. In fact, on the contrary they are extremely peaceful people.” I was very disconcerted.

Finally, I made my way to my current “home”, India. New Delhi is the place I find most frustrating but it is

also the city I most comfortably call “home”. India is where I grew up, and I don’t mean “grew up” in the typical

sense. I mean I matured, and developed into a young adult, a woman. It is no secret how difficult it is to be a woman

in India. You have all seen the news. I have been forced to make sense of this culture and live in it, while maintaining

my values. Defending my values as an independent western woman has been far from easy but something that has

defined me.

I have learned to formulate opinions and values through the eyes of different cultures. I have taken all of my

experiences and combined them in a way that has given me meaning and shaped my very unique “world” identity. I

realized that being caught between two cultures defines me; it is my identity. Home is no longer a four-letter word.

Home cannot be defined by a physical place; it is a state of mind. Home is where I feel comfortable. For me, home is

a state of questioning, constantly seeking meaning in a crazy and unpredictable world.

I turned back to the stranger and replied, “Wait, what was your question?”

2014 Topic:

"Using examples from your own experience, describe how growing up as a Foreign Service youth has influenced your perspective on life and the world."


Emma is the 17 year-old daughter of Lorrie Clark-Hannan and Bob Hannan who are currently posted to Washington DC/Falls Church where Emma will be graduating from George Mason High School in June. Previous posts for the Hannan family include Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, Moscow, Russia and Paris, France. Emma’s essay opened with a re-freshing and surprising twist, describing her startling return to the U.S. Emma proceeds to observe the fresh outlook she de-veloped and new-found appreciation she has for the conven-iences available to her in the West. “Until I lived in a house that ran on a generator and drove down endlessly bumpy roads, I had never realized how much of an extravagance the things I took for granted really were.” In her free time, Emma plays in her school band, runs cross-country, and is active in the Amnesty International Club. Emma will be attending Juniata College in Pennsylvania in the fall. 2nd Place

Emma Hannan

Falls Church, VA

“Tarmac to Tarmac” by Emma Hannan

I remember exactly what it felt like stepping off the plane. The air was hot and sticky, clinging to my skin, but

I gladly preferred the summer swelter to the suffocating air inside the airplane cabin. I was stepping off the

plane and onto a runway not unlike the one I stood on when I boarded the plane seventeen hours ago, yet

the end of my journey was already differing from the beginning. Everything should have been familiar to me,

but for the first time, the place I had always called home felt unpleasantly foreign. I had made countless trips

from Post back to the United States, but this one has stood out most prominently in my memory. After my

first year, in Tanzania, I hadn’t expected my return home to be so shocking, but since then, my perspective

on the way I live has never been the same.



Having lived in first-world countries my whole life, I had never put any thought into the components of the

man-made world around me. Until that first summer when I came back to America from Dar es Salaam, I

had never thought about how much money or resources were being used to light a neon sign, nor had I

ever questioned the necessity of light displays. And I had certainly never thought twice about what a luxury

paved roads were. Until I lived in a house that ran on a generator and drove down endlessly bumpy roads, I

had never realized how much of an extravagance the things I took for granted really were. I began making

those observations within the first few minutes of coming in contact with American solid and noticing what

I considered to be grotesque uses of assets: the airport was too spacious, the light bulbs too bright, the

dining options too plentiful. I quickly understood the origins of stereotypical Americans, those who con-

sumed and consumed with no real appreciation of their commodities. I had always known that some peo-

ple starve while I’m able to eat anytime I want, but I quickly realized how grateful I should be for everything

I had in life, which I began to realize was even more than the food that was provided to me.

As my vacation in the United States progressed, I noticed more and more things that I was so blessed to

have access to, and I was able to distinguish between a real need and a want. I resented the way these

“real” Americans had gallon after gallon of cold milk in their fridges and abundance of fresh berries on the

counter, treats I no longer could have while living in Tanzania. I scoffed at what I perceived to be their glut-

tonous lifestyles in comparison tom mine, but I quickly realized I wasn’t being any less greedy than they

were. Sure, my family had to drink long-life milk that often sat in a warm pantry, but at least we were able

to fulfill daily requirements for water well enough to even drink other beverages. And even though berries

were an extremely rare find in a Tanzanian supermarket, I knew there would always be something available

that I could afford to buy. I was able to really see what my lifestyle looked like to those who were less for-

tunate than I, a lesson I haven’t forgotten since.

I try a lot harder to complain less now. While overseas, I had to learn how to do everything with a painfully

slow internet connection that would often make me forego logging on at all. I was envious of my friends

and family living in the U.S. that could browse the internet as quickly as they needed to, but at the same

time I was also more cognizant of how lucky I was to have the internet as an available tool at all. After see-

ing people working manually every day, I realized how capable humans really are of so many different

things. In Tanzania, most people didn’t rely on high-tech machines to do what was most important, and

that observation has stuck with me to this day. Today, whenever I get stressed about getting something

done I just remind myself of those people and I realize that I am capable of doing it, no matter how daunt-

ing it may seem. I have even learned to be thankful that I stress over things like upcoming assignments,

which now seem so trivial compared to the hardships I know other people have to face. Although I enjoy

all sorts of luxuries in the U.S. right now, I never forget what life was like in Tanzania. Without the compari-

son between the ways of life in each country, I would never have been able to assess my own capabilities

and take full advantage of them.


Elka Sterling is the daughter of Adam Sterling and Veerle Coignez who are currently posted to The Hague, Netherlands where Elka just fin-ished the 10th grade at the American School of The Hague. Previous posts include Baku, Tel Aviv and Almaty. Elka’s essay recounts her adjustment process in Baku, Azerbaijan. With vivid descriptions of both her feelings and her surroundings, Elka explores her eventual appre-ciation not only for Baku but for her Foreign Service childhood. “If there’s anything I’ve learned from the past four years it’s that each and every one of us has been given an extraordinary childhood.” When she’s not writing, Elka enjoys riding and training her horse.

“One Nomad’s Tale” by Elka Sterling

“A-z-e-r-b-a-i-j-a-n”. It comes out the same way an answer in a spelling bee would from a bored contestant:

obvious, repeated and slightly condescending. This is frequently followed by an emphatic “A-zer-baij-jan” (which

sounds a bit more like ‘A-zur-by-john’), as I’m sure many of my Eurasian and Eastern European peers will understand.

I, of course, have no right to judge, as neither my friends nor I had even heard of the place, let alone had any

inkling of where in the world it was, until I learned of our posting. This, though, is part of the beauty of a Foreign Ser-

vice childhood. We are global nomads, accepting and adapting to obscure countries and cultures in a diplomatic and

fashionable manner, packing, unpacking and repacking.

I’m not going to lie though, when the time finally came for us to leave our comfortable life in Washington for

the new and wildly different streets of Baku, I was no nomad nor diplomat. Having not lived abroad since the age of 7, I

rejected the move entirely. I skulked, cried, threw temper tantrums and wallowed in self-pity for months on end. What

was there in this country that you couldn’t get back home? At the tender age of 12, I had friends and a routine I was

accustomed to after five years stateside and my roots had just been ripped out of the ground and planted in a totally

unfamiliar place. That first year in Baku was, and still is, the longest and most tear-stained year of my life.

3rd place

Elka Sterling

The Hague, Netherlands


Today however, I can look back on my years in Azerbaijan, not only remembering that tormented first year of

homesickness, but also the last two years of happiness and even genuine contentment, buying bulochki and

khachapuri from the bakery window around the corner, jumping over bonfires come Novruz, and walking through the

bazaars of pomegranate-filled Ladas. Today, coming on one year since leaving Baku, I am living not back in D.C. as I had

banked on, but in The Hague, the Netherlands; exceptionally privileged, enormously grateful and unequivocally happy.

It is difficult to exactly describe what a Foreign Service Youth life entails, because there are no definitive guide-

lines and there is no play-by-play handbook. The world is a big place and within it are many smaller worlds, each

equally exciting and unique, spread out across oceans and continents. Everyone’s experiences are different and there-

fore the changes and lessons that each eager child or homesick teen learns are too.

By the time this essay prompt had popped in my inbox, it was already filled with emails from my teachers and

counselors about my upcoming course selections as I prepare to enter my final two years of high school. There are de-

cisions to be made that become factors in my future. AP or IB? U.K. or U.S.? What do I actually want to do with the rest

of my life? And of course, where do I want to be?

Four years ago, my answer would have been much more straightforward but my experiences from the last

three years have forever altered my perspective on life and the world and only for the better. The world has simultane-

ously become much smaller and much more diverse for me now than the two-mile city limits of home in Virginia.

Countries are now more than just their stereotype or just blank parts on a map, but clear borders with a foil of cities

and buildings and food and music. Global issues have started hitting closer to home, either because of the effect on

our friends and family or because of the deeper understanding that I have developed. Looking at the Middle East has a

different significance to me after memories of being evacuated from Israel in 2003. Stories and worries of the Arab

Spring spreading had a different implication while living in the Caucasus.

In my own life, my experience as a Foreign Service youth has taught me things about myself I know are invalu-

able for my future. While that last sentence may have sounded like a bad cliché, the move to Baku was a change I

never would have made on my own, but because of it and the fact that I survived this life change, adjusted and eventu-

ally thrived, brings on the realization that I, and all other Foreign Service youths like me, are actually much more capa-

ble than we might have originally thought and we can give ourselves credit for that. Before the transition, I had only

ever known being happy firmly grounded in one place, surrounded by the people and places I knew and loved, and the

idea of change scared me. Today, as the end to my life as a Foreign Service youth draws undeniably nearer, there is

distinctly longer list of possibilities in my future to consider than I had originally thought there to be.

If there’s anything I’ve learned from the past four years it’s that each and every one of us has been given an

extraordinary childhood. Whether we enjoy this itinerant lifestyle and all of its implications or not, we owe it to our-

selves to grasp and appreciate the opportunities that we are given and allow them to influence us. We have to learn to

be open to the changes that will come to our lives, be ready to accept the fact that change is a part of our lifestyle and,

who knows, we may just even enjoy them.



Tyler Feeken is a 16 year-old sophomore who attends Colonial Forge High School in Stafford, Virginia. His favorite classes are history, math and Spanish and he participates in his school’s marching band and percussion ensemble. When he’s not in school he enjoys playing drums and designing models. Tyler has two younger siblings, Hannah and Alex and he hopes, after high school, to attend Liberty University and study Theology and Intercultural Studies. "Being a Foreign Service youth has taught me that Ameri-can children are representing American youth wherever they live, while also learning about the culture that surrounds them," explains Tyler. That is what he sought to portray in his logo for the competi-tion. His family has previously served in Ukraine, the Philippines, Mexico, and Canada.

Tyler Feeken

Stafford, Virginia


FSYF gratefully acknowledges the support of its sponsors:


Contributions Deadline

September 29th

Youth Contributors Wanted For Fall Issue of FSYF Newsletter

Fall Theme: Back To School What are you looking forward to or dreading this fall? Do you have tips for settling in or welcoming new kids?

Are you in the Southern Hemisphere, is your fall really spring?

Who Can Contribute? American Foreign Service kids of all ages and in all locations are welcome to contribute. However, we would love to see teens participate more!!

Submit your contribution to www.fsyf.org. Please include your

Name

Age/Grade

Post/School

Photos to accompany your submission

Accra Addis Ababa

Amman Ashgabat

Astana Beijing

Belmopan/Belize Belgrade Bogota Brussels

Cairo Chengdu Chennai

Chiangmai Chisinau

Ciudad Juarez Cotonou

Dar Es Salaam Dublin Geneva

Guadalajara Guangzhou The Hague

Hanoi Harare

Hong Kong Iraq (boarding)

Jeddah Johannesburg

Jakarta Jerusalem

La Paz Kuala Lumpur

Lima

Ljubljana Madrid

Managua Manila

Maputo Mexico City

Moscow Nassau

New Delhi Ottawa

Panama City Riyadh

San Jose Santiago

Seoul Shanghai Shenyang

Skopje Sofia

Swaziland Taipei

Tegucigalpa Tijuana

Santo Domingo Tbilisi

Tel Aviv Tokyo

Vancouver Vladivostok

Warsaw Washington, DC

Zagreb

Participating Posts

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