ESSAY & MEMOIR — SNOW DAY!!!!! Every kid jumps up when they hear that announcement in the morning! Going tobogganing… drinking hot cocoa… playing in the snow for HOURS with friends until your mom forces you to come inside for dinner… going skating at the local skating rink… playing hockey… getting Christmas presents… Winter is pretty fun for most Canadian kids!
For me? Winter wasn’t any of those things. Winter was just cold.
First of all, I know that winter isn’t most people’s favourite season, but for me? I HATED it… DREADED it… DESPISED it. And it’s not even that I suffered from seasonal depression at this point, yet. The problem was that I was a little brown girl in an extremely white elementary school, with no friends. Doing fun winter activities, which most kids grow up doing, is hard when you’re seven years old and your only friend is your mom… your very South Asian mother who hadn’t seen snow with her own eyes until she was in her thirties. My parents are immigrants from India. For them, Canadian winter just reminds them how far they are from their home, and how this place where they’ve lived for so many years, is actually very foreign.
For this reason, I never learned how to ice-skate. Mainly, it was because my parents were super protective of me and thought ice-skating sounded dangerous. No, I don’t resent them for it today - I honestly couldn’t care less about it, and I think their fears were valid! — but it made me even more alienated from my classmates every time they went on the annual skating trip from grades 1-3. I would stay home instead of attending the field trip, and then later be forced to listen to them CONTINUOUSLY go on... and on... and on... and on… about the fun that they had (that I missed!) for the next several months.
I went to a predominantly white elementary school, where most of the kids were from wealthy families. This meant they either played on the same sports teams, their (conservative) parents already knew each other somehow, or they attended the same church. The result? It was like a cult of tiny white kids who judged me for just existing.
As soon as the winter’s annual snowfall happened, everyone at school would excitingly start building snow forts at recess. Usually, there would be one big snow fort per grade which would have 30-40 members each. Snow forts were a HUGE deal. Anyways, back in the winter of grade one (winter 2011-2012), the huge cohort of kids in my grade had a snow fort going on. Typically, I would either wander around during breaks by myself, or I would walk with the teacher on duty to give them company (or rather, they’d be the one giving me company!). However, six-year-old me was starting to feel really sad when I realized that the only ‘friends’ in my life were over the age of 30 (the teachers on duty, and my parents). So, one day, I finally decided that I was gonna start making friends with people… people my own age! My plan? I would become a member of my grade’s snow fort, which would allow me to get to know my peers. This plan didn’t seem very difficult to execute, because everyone in my grade was a part of this snow fort, and since they knew I was in their class, how could they say anything but yes?
They said no.
“Wait, why not?? Are there too many people? I REALLY want to be a part of your snow fort! Please, let me join, just one more person!! Or at least, please explain to me why not!”
A huge line of my blue-eyed, blond-haired, six-year-old classmates were staring at me blankly, as if I had just said something in a different language. After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, a girl from my class spat out, “No! You can’t join our snow fort! Why? Because YOU DON’T LOOK LIKE US!!”
Nope, I didn’t end up making friends that year, or the next year, or the year after that—and for good reason! I realized that, for a six-year-old to be making that kind of comment? That is learned behaviour, probably from the adults in their life! So, instead of chasing after my racist peers, I grew close with my teachers, who gave me their mature insights, which allowed me to move on from this. I started being able to tolerate being alone, and I even began to embrace it. Every winter, I grew not only in size, but also maturity. I started caring less and less about the fact that I didn’t fit in. As the snow would eventually begin to melt away at the end of the season, the little amount of anxiety that I still had about the winter, would go away as soon as I saw the flowers blooming outside. My childhood was actually pretty good for the most part.
As more winters passed, I reached grade 7. No, I still couldn’t skate—but this wasn’t my biggest problem anymore! My problem? A very familiar feeling came back to haunt me. It was the same feeling that I felt in that moment as a six-year-old, walking away from the snow fort after my classmates told me that I couldn’t join them because of who I was. However, this winter, I was experiencing this feeling all the time, and I couldn’t even identify the name for it, or why. Was it loneliness? Was it guilt? Shame? Insecurity? At this point, I had friends, and was doing well in school, so what was the issue?
I can’t describe the way I felt at that moment in grade one. It doesn’t have a name. I felt every emotion imaginable, but somehow, that also meant that I felt nothing at the same time. The feeling was temporary, but it has come back at other points in my life, which were also temporary.
That winter of grade 7, getting out of bed in the dark, cold mornings took every ounce of energy I had. Seeing the sun set so early, only one hour after coming home from school, made my days look dim. Everyone around me was head over heels for the holidays, and I couldn’t understand why I didn’t feel the same way! Why couldn’t I join into the holiday spirit too? This time, unlike my grade one days, I wasn’t being excluded in any way, but I felt the same feeling of alienation that I felt back then, nevertheless.
Fortunately, the cold season did not last forever, and the flowers returned as usual. I did eventually end up learning how to deal with my seasonal depression, but it didn’t stop there.
Pandemic winters were rough. They were definitely rough for everyone though. The isolation during the holidays—not being able to see family and friends, was especially upsetting. Again, I found myself constantly experiencing the familiar feeling, that didn’t have a name, that I felt that day during recess when I was in grade one. This time, however, everyone around me felt the same way, but I felt alone anyways. Thankfully, by the time the weather started getting warmer, the COVID situation started getting better as well, and we were able to make up for the things we missed during the winter.
This winter? I’m gonna have to apply to university, and I’m not gonna lie… that’s stressful as heck. But I actually feel weirdly calm about it at the same time. Did I ever end up learning how to ice-skate? Nope! However, although I used to be upset about this as a kid, I laugh about it with my friends now (many of whom also can’t skate either by the way!). I’ve realized that just like the seasons come and go, our feelings, worries, and life situations come and go as well. Time doesn’t stop moving during hard times, even if it feels that way… A really cold and snowy winter doesn’t mean that spring will never come! The snow eventually melts as winter comes to an end. Besides, I love cozying up with a warm blanket next to my fireplace, while drinking delicious hot chocolate, listening to soft holiday songs in the background, and enjoying a good book. There is some joy in winter too, it just took me some time to find it.
I’ll be done with the stressful university application stuff by the time the snow is gone, so that’s comforting to know. In the meantime though? Maybe this winter, I’ll finally learn how to ice-skate!!!!!!
…maybe.
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