Florence, Italy

This is a photo of me taken at the Uffizi Gallery in Florence, Italy. My family and I took a vacation to Europe during the summer of 2016, and Italy was one of many stops we made during our journey.  I recall the Uffizi Gallery, a world renowned museum, was the one place I was most excited to visit in Florence. On our last day in Florence, I stepped into the hallways of the Gallery and stared at masterpieces that I had seen only in books and videos.

One painting which amazed me was Boticelli's Birth of Venus, an iconic depiction of the Roman goddess being created from sea foam. I had seen the painting in so many videos and books, but it was different that day. I was in awe at the sheer size of the painting, and as I stepped as close to the painting as I was legally allowed to,  I could see the brushstrokes of paintings and small cracks in the canvas.The imperfections of the painting were all visible to me, and it was such an incredible experience.

 Overall, Florence was such an incredible city to be in. The wonder and amazement I experienced at the Uffizi Gallery was just a taste of the wonderment I would encounter upon every street corner and sight Florence had to offer to me. It was truly a historical, romantic city which made me fall in love with it. One wouldn't expect it, but Florence is smaller than Peoria in terms of mi/ft^2. However, it holds approximately 300,000 residents, making it a bustling city. Located in the Tuscany countrysides and surrounded by vineyards, it's a charming place, like one would imagine in the movies.

Everywhere in the city is art. The Ponte Vecchio is a bridge which connects two sections of the city across a river, and despite being a tourist attraction, it's still a part of daily life for locals. Vendors set up little shops along the bridge and businessmen and women walk briskly past the hordes of tourists who are attempting to take Instagram-worthy photographs. The iconic Medici family of Florence has left their legacy throughout the entire city, and it can still be seen today. I recall walking past a large, white building with intricate engravings all over. Upon closer inspection, the words Medici were engraved on it. To me, it was interesting how locals literally walked past a huge piece of history every day, but didn't even bat an eye. I was in wonder as I stared at the building, imagining members of the family who had walked in through those doors hundreds of years ago.

In my mind, I remember Florence being a city of art. It was literally the birthplace of the Renaissance, and has influenced politics, art, and culture in Western Europe for hundreds of years. It was such an incredible opportunity to explore this beautiful city, and to this day, every time I see this photograph, I just look back with fondness at the memory of Florence, Italy.

Thankful for my father

In the past few years, I've come to realize how grateful I am for the close relationship I have with my father. Growing up, my sister was always more rebellious and fought with him a lot. It wasn't until after she graduated from college that she was able to have a better relationship with him, but I feel like all my life, I've had the privilege of being super close to him.

I've always been able to talk to him about anything. From politics, religion, history, and even drama going in my life, I've always felt like he's been nothing but understanding. He's allowed me to say things freely, and never lectured me for my mistakes. Rather, he's provided his insight and reflected on his own life experiences in order to guide me to make the right choices. He's strict, but understanding. One thing I've always appreciated is that he doesn't shove his beliefs down my throat. He's extremely opinionated and has strong views on a lot of things, but never have I ever felt compelled to emulate him. Dad has always given me the freedom to think for myself and speak for myself. He's given my brother and I equal opportunities despite coming from a culture where boys are favored over girls.

I believe part of the reason why we have such a great relationship is because for a brief period of time, my dad was the only one raising me. My mother was working in a different state at the time, and my dad raised my brother and I. He fed us, bathed us, took us to school, and drove us around to all of our extracurricular activities. He even learned how to brush my hair and braid it. My father did all this while never missing a day of work. It was through this time period where I felt my relationship with him solidified. I saw how hard he worked and how much he sacrificed in order to take care of us. 

 My dad is one of the strongest people I know. His love and dedication for his family and friends is incredible. I remember when my sister was going to school in St. Louis. She was in the middle of a falling out with my dad and was struggling. But my dad heard from her friends that she was working late at night.  So after his work was finished in Champaign, he made pork buns and created a little care package for her. Then he drove all the way to St. Louis to drop it off to her in the middle of the night. Then he immediately drove back to take my brother and I to school. It's that kind of love which makes me feel like I'm invincible, even when I'm in the darkest stages of my life. My dad has allowed me to learn so much about the world and myself, and without him, I would not be where I am today.

Antartica

If I could travel anywhere in the world, I'd like to visit Antartica. 

With the rising temperatures, scientists predict that in 30 years, many of the world's ice caps will be gone and contribute to a majority of the rising sea levels. Before that happens, I'd like to visit the continent which contributes to 90% of the world's ice. It's a place unlike anywhere else in the world. With an average temperature of -67 degrees fahrenheit, and a wildlife which has fascinated researchers for many years, I'd be interested in exploring the place. 

Many people envision Antartica as nothing but a plain of ice, and while that is partially true, Antartica also has incredible mountain ranges. The Gamburtsev Mountains stretch over 750 miles and are approximately 9,000 ft in height. In addition, there are lakes such as Lake Vostok, which is buried under 2 miles of frozen water. In these extreme temperatures, biologists can study extremophiles, (microorganisms which can survive under extreme conditions), and examine their properties. There is an abundant amount of research which could be done on Antartica, and being a part of a research expedition would be incredible. 

Lastly, Antartica is home to many animals which I found love. From penguins to seals to whales, I think seeing these creatures in their natural habitat would be exciting. While I've seen these animals in zoos, I think there's something special to witnessing animals exhibit their natural behaviors in their original habitats. I'd love to observe their behaviors and take photos of them! 

My sister recently received an offer to go on an expedition to Antartica. It will be her second time going there, and she absolutely loves it. In fact, she recently resigned from her corporate job to go on this adventure. My sister's love for the continent is so obvious, and her passion for the research that could be done there is infectious. My dream would be to go there with her! 

My Name

My name is Angelynn Huang. While my name isn't so foreign that people have to squint in order to pronounce it during attendance, they do always question the ending of it. The -lynn portion is pronounced -line, which is actually a French variation of the Greek name which means "Angel" or "Messenger of God." I've always liked my name and never had any issues with it. I've gotten compliments on the uniqueness of it. It's easy to say my name and I are in a perfect relationship with each other, and I can honestly say my name symbolizes who I am.

Angelynn is a bit of a mouthful, but before Uni, all my friends never abbreviated it. I had a few swim team friends call me "Anne," but it was just a select few people. It was my subbie year at Uni when a friend of mine coined me as "Ange." The nickname makes sense. It's shorter, easier to say, and it sounds good. I remember the first time someone called me Ange, and in my head, I thought, "That's so weird." The name seemed foreign, but it was still me. Ange was still Angelynn. I let it be, and from then on, I've been known as "Ange."

But come to think of it,  I've never thought of myself as Ange despite all my friends calling me Ange. When I write my name on papers or introduce myself, it's never Ange, but Angelynn. For the first time in a while, a friend of mine referred to me as Angelynn while addressing me, and I remember feeling shocked. I hadn't heard anyone acknowledge me as Angelynn for the longest time. It was almost like a violation of my own privacy. Since most of my friends call me Ange, Angelynn had been used exclusively by family or super close family friends like my godparents. It almost became an intimate name in which only the people closest to me could use. So it was odd hearing a friend I wasn't that close with refer to me as Angelynn. But at the same time, I felt so happy hearing it. Because at the end of the day, I'm not Ange, but Angelynn. It might sound weird, but Angelynn is the name that's been used on academic papers, legal documents, concert tickets, swim meets, social media platforms, and so many other moments which have defined my life. It's never been Ange, but it's always been Angelynn which I have defined myself by.

Names are a weird concept. One wouldn't think they're super important, but a name is what has defined you in society ever since you were born. Your name is used to identify you and tie you to your actions. I think I've come to enjoy the nickname of Ange, and I've started to appreciate the special moments in which people refer to me as Angelynn.

Christmas Markets

My family isn't one for traditions typically. They don't like to stick to routine and rarely are they ever sentimental. The fact that we don't usually have dinner as a family might be considered shocking to other families, but to mine, we don't really care. After all, we're all busy people and have different schedules. So the fact that my family's one tradition is to have a dinner together at Christkindlmarket in Chicago makes it a special one to me. Christkindlmarket is a traditional German Christmas market that occurs every year starting around Thanksgiving and lasts up until Christmas Day in Chicago. Typically as a family, we go to my godparents' house and celebrate Thanksgiving, wait until Black Friday is over, then head up to Chicago via car or train every year. 

It's freezing cold in the windy city, and my family is all bundled up in thick black jackets. We always complain about getting hypothermia as we scramble into our Uber. We stare at the gloomy, gray sky of Chicago and wonder why in the world we do this every year. That is, until we see the familiar cluster of wooden stalls on Washington Street. Suddenly, you can feel our excitement as a family, and we all rush out of the warm Uber and take in the wonderful smells of apple strudel, sizzling bratwurst, tangy sauerkraut, and our favorite: hot Glüwhein. 

We immediately go for the food. We shove through the hordes of people who are walking around and admiring the market. Every year, we start at the same stall. I don't know the actual name but we call it the Bratwurst Stall, because that's their speciality. We purchase four brats and a currywurst, and I know my mom is going to purchase the potato and lentil soup. It's always such a delicious, hearty meal. We eat on these tall tables, standing up, and most likely sharing it with another family. And while the wind blows and we freeze, we're happily scarfing down our bratwursts. The next stop is always Glüwhein (but hot chocolate for my brother). The building with Glüwhein is always the most crowded, because a) alcohol b) there's indoor seating connected to the stall. My mother and I share a cup of Glüwhein because my father hates the taste, and my brother happily sips his hot chocolate with whipped cream. The drinks are in ceramic cups we can keep, and we've amassed quite a collection over the years. After our drinks, we head back out to into the cold, now feeling warm and fuzzy. We all know my brother loves German Christmas Soda, so we head to the tent to pick up his Christmas Soda along with candied almonds and cashews for my dad. Then we go to the strudel tent and buy a cherry and peach strudel, which we know will be delicious. It's a sweet end to our adventures at the market. 

This family tradition is one I would love to continue as it's such an enjoyable experience. Braving the cold with your family definitely makes you closer to them. I love how after every meal I eat at the market, I always feel warmer and happier. While part of it is the delicious food, another part is because I can spend time with my family and laugh with them as they're eating. My father will always steal a huge bite from my bratwurst because he's still hungry while my mother is probably making conversation with the family eating next to us. My brother is either silently enjoying his food or cracking jokes about the cold. Going to Christkindlmarket is one of the best things I am able to do with my family each year, and I would love for my future children to also experience the joy I've felt at the market. 

Swimming Struggles

I've always had a love-hate relationship with the sport of swimming. My parents signed me up for those kiddie swim classes when I was six years old. I was not only the worst swimmer in the class, but I became even more terrified of water after taking those classes. While my other classmates advanced to other levels and learned to float, kick, and tread, I was still too scared to get into the water. After two failed summers, my parents decided the lessons were a waste of time and accepted the fact that I hated water.

Then a year later, my parents found a private coach in Homer who was notorious for teaching kids how to swim. With my new teacher Maureen, I went from being too scared to get in to being able to swim freestyle the summer of when I was nine years old. That was when I learned to love the sport and the feeling of water moving past me. Seeing how much I loved my lessons, I joined HEAT Swim Team that fall, and once again, I was amongst the worst swimmers there. I was one of the oldest members in Group 2 (the second lowest level out of 5) on the team, and I struggled immensely. Except this time I was driven to be the best. A lot of my friends were in the group levels above me while I was swimming with younger children. From that year forward, I would hardly ever miss a practice with HEAT. I would force my parents to drive me during snow storms, holidays, school breaks, and morning practices. Swimming became my obsession, and as I quickly climbed ranks and surpassed those who had been swimming longer than I was, I felt even more motivated.

But my obsession with the sport led to an unhealthy relationship with it. During races, I would get incredibly nervous. My nerves weren't normal, jittery nerves – they were head-spinning spells where I would feel like I was going to pass out. It was even worse during events such as freestyle or butterfly, as I knew my coaches and parents were pushing me to make cuts. The first time I had an incident at a meet was when I was 11 years old. During the 50 fly, I felt as if I couldn't breathe during my race, and I stopped halfway during my race and got out of the water.  Then when I was 13 at Districts, I was trying to make a cut for the 100 fly. On my third 25, I felt that awful feeling of not being able to breathe and stopped and got out of the water. That day was the last time I swam the 100 fly until my sophomore year at Uni.

After that incident at Districts, I stopped attending practices and dropped my training intensity with HEAT. I also adamantly refused to swim the 100 fly event. Coaches tried to get me to swim it at small meets, but I would not. Then for the next three years at Uni, I would have the support of my team and my coaches who taught me to never focus on the past or future. I was taught breathing exercises and pre-race rituals to help me calm down before races. And my sophomore year at Urbana Aquatic Center, a small meet, I swam the 100 fly flawlessly. And while other people just saw a random girl swimming a 100 fly, it meant the world to me. During the race, it didn't feel like a race. It felt like the 100 fly I used to enjoy swimming before coaches and people started pressing for time cuts. From then on, my relationship with swimming has improved immensely, and while I still get incredibly nervous before big races, I've learned to focus my mind to the present and enjoy the feeling of the water.