Ani came back from school one day. The house was quiet, she liked it better this way. She preferred the silence over her parent’s loud screaming. She ate leftover pizza from yesterday and took it to her room, where she picked up a book to read while eating. She was going to get her homework done later, she told herself, but she could never put down this book no matter how many times she’s read it. She just couldn’t keep her mind away from the sword-wielding heroine with fiery hair. 

Her parents arrived home together, she could tell because she heard their screaming before they even entered the house. She planned on staying in her room for the rest of the night. Maybe sneak into the kitchen once both her parents had gone to bed. She heard their argument turn to her.  Ani knew she wasn’t liked, by either of them. She’s been told that their marriage was ruined when they had her, that they would be much happier if she wasn’t there. It looked like they were finally going to do something about it. 

Ani heard their footsteps approaching. She quickly locked the door and got away from it. Her heart began raising and her breathing got heavy. They were screaming at her to open the door. The doorknob shook as badly as her hands. Then they started pounding on it. She knew they would knock it down soon. She looked around her room and her eyes landed on the window. Without a second thought, she climbed through and ran. Ran until the screaming of her parents could no longer be heard. Ran until her legs burned. She ran until suddenly she was falling. The world blurred around her and she felt her body go cold and wet. Then she fell into blackness. 

Ani finally woke up. She looked around and saw long trees with vibrant green leaves. She felt warm, despite feeling cold just-well however much time passed since then. She could see a figure approaching from behind the trees. It was a girl, with long red hair and two braids tied to the back of her head. She was wearing silver armor and a sword on her back. A sword? She must still be unconscious because here in front of her was Gwenn Clementina. The heroin from her favorite fantasy series ever. 

“Oh, you’re awake! Good, well come on” Gwenn said as she started walking back into the forest, stopping once she realized Ani wasn’t following. Gwenn walked back to her and held her hand out in front of her. “Don’t you want to come, Ani?” She did, she really did. So Ani held her hand and let herself be pulled by Gwenn. She never thought about home, never thought about her parents. She would never know that she was in the newspaper the next day, warning people that the rail on a cliffside broke, and it was the tragic ending of a girl named Ani.

I ran through the park on a warm summer day. Days,

that used to feel warm and bright. Bright

sun rays showered me. Me,

the girl who laughed and played. Played,

with toys and other kids. Kid,

I am not a kid anymore. More

time passes day by day. Days

are no longer as warm as before. Before,

when I used to smile without a care in the world. The world,

that has put expectations on me now that I’m older. Older,

and no longer that child. That child,

that I left behind.

The cold breeze blew through my hair. The sun shined on the soft waves, making the water sparkle like diamonds. The gentle rocking of the ferry created a calm and serene moment, while my two friends and I enjoyed the scenery. We approached the Island slowly, and the big white letters reading “Governers Island” got closer and closer. The ferry came to a stop and we walked out. We walked side by side, making small chatter with each other. The path was filled with cracked cement, making the path uneven under our feet. We walked through the grass and dried leaves crunching under our feet. 

We each picked up our skates, and the heavy shoes weighed down my arms. Putting on the shoes, I wobbled onto the rink. The ice made me lose my balance with every step. I held on to the wall and took small and slow steps. The ice gleamed under the sun. My thighs burned from the effort of skating and we finally walked out of the rink. My legs feel a sense of relief after sitting down and taking off the heavy skates. We continued walking throughout the location. The smell of smoke and charcoal filled my nose. Families were sitting around grills, as dark smoke rose from them. 

The sound of children running and laughing died down as we walked under this old red-bricked building. We reached these bright red hammocks and we each laid down on one. The only thing that could be heard was the wind blowing through the naked trees. The sun shined down, but not excruciating blinding. The sky was a bright blue and only a few thin white clouds covered the sky. Time seemed to stop, as I softly swayed on the hammock staring at the sky. The world went quiet and a sense of calm washed through my body.

This is a question that got brought up a lot in 2020. During the Covid 19 Pandemic, we had many celebrities and artists get called out for their problematic past and get “canceled” or what they really mean is wait for them to post their notes app apology and everybody forgets about it a few days later but that’s not the point of this discussion. 

After an artist gets called out, the next question that gets brought up (if they care enough) is “how do I continue to consume their art without supporting them?”. This question is not as easy to answer. Many people answer with “separate the art from the artist” but after multiple online discussions, I found that it isn’t as easy to do.

This conversation sparked up again at the start of 2020 because of one of the most famous authors of the past generations, JK Rowling. When her very transphobic tweets and her support for anti-trans companies were made apparent, many people came out to show their distaste and lack of support for it. 

Now I, like many, also read Harry Potter at a very young age. I grew up watching the Harry Potter movies. For a moment I thought “as long as I don’t buy anything that gives her money, I am good”. I can continue to enjoy this world and continue to read the books that I’ve owned for years. Until her racist and antisemitic portrayal of characters was called out. I’m not going to say that it was something new, this could’ve been called out years ago and I didn’t spot it or research it myself. But this brings up another question, “what happens when the art shows the views of the artist?”

You can’t force anyone to not buy a book, or to not watch a movie, or to not listen to this artist’s music. At the end of the day, we still have authors like Sarah J. Maas, Colleen Hoover, and JK Rowling who will continue to make money from everything with their names on it.