Jhadley Sanchez, a junior at Boston Community Leadership Academy, has had this corny come-on sent her way via text message: “Just because I’m guilty of stealing your heart doesn’t mean you can lock me up.”
Though the means of delivery have changed, the presence of cheesy, attention-grabbing phrases has been passed down from generation to generation.
Epiphany Dunston, a junior at BCLA, has received this one: “Hey sexy, can I find you a Pepsi?”
Kevin Teixeira, 16, a junior at BCLA, has been known to employ this declaration, in jest: “I’m not a photographer, but I can picture you and I together.”
Angelique McAuliffe, a 13 year-old-from Dorchester says that what has her feeling different is undeniably important to her.
“What makes me unique is my name,” she says. “It’s not a common name.”
And people tell her that all the time, she says.
“It makes me feel special,” McAuliffe says.
Although there is a lot of peer pressure to follow the crowd, many teens feel that being distinctive is their way of stepping out in the world and saying that it’s OK not to be like everybody else.
Rosauri Laura, 14, from South Boston, says that the silly way she uses her voice -- going super high, for example -- sets her apart.
“Not many people I know are as weird as I am,” she says. Keahja Pittman, 13, from
Dorchester, says that her particular heritage is a mystery to many.
“Everybody looks at me,” Pittman says, “and never suspects that I’m from Portugal.”
Sixteen-year-old Serina Watler, from the John D. O’Bryant School of Math & Science, says she uses the heart-eyes emoji often to help get messages across more easily than mere texts.
“If I didn’t have emojis,” she says, “I feel like texting would be more boring.”
And more open to interpretation. A byproduct of the teen texting culture, these emoji character symbols convey the emotions of the message and prevent the kind of confusion that can accompany basic texting.
Seventeen-year-old Linh Vu, from the O’Bryant, says his most frequently used emojis consist of the subtle smiley face, the red heart, and the crying face with tears.
Kianna Young, 17, from the O’Bryant, says some prefer using emojis to traditional texting.
“It’s easier to comprehend than words,” says Young.
I miss my little nephew. I miss his eyes.
He is my brother’s son. He was born in Kenya in the summer of 2011. We all call him Haboby, which means lovely in Arabic. Hewassoclosetomeandmy sisters because he was with us since the day he was born. He never lived with his parents.
There was a day I was crying because I was frustrated. Haboby came and hugged me. He put his little head on my shoulder and said: “Stop. Don’t cry.”
In 2013, my father told us that we couldn’t take Haboby along to America because he is only a nephew.
The day we were leaving, everyone was busy except Haboby. He was crying and looking around. He was trying to tell us not to go. I kissed him on his cheek and left the house.
I miss him every day.
I remember the first time I went to church in Cape Verde. I was 10.
I woke up with the bright sun shining on my eyes and the noisy “cock-a-doodle-do!’’
When I entered the church, I was nervous. It had a big cross on top, a lot of seats, and a priest wearing white cloth. There was a group of people singing about Christ.
My mom asked me to go to the church school. I didn’t know what it was, so I said yes. A priest gave everyone a cross necklace and told us to wear it everywhere we went, for it symbolized: “Jesus is with you and will protect you from the devil.”
I showed my mother. “Beautiful,” she said. Now I’m in the US and I wear the cross necklace every Sunday at church.