Olivia Marie Rice – Second Place Winner
12th Grade
Schoolcraft High School
“My name is Liberty”

“Do I know you from somewhere? You seem familiar.

No? Well here, allow me to introduce myself.

My name is Liberty.

I am the goal of many countries and a threat to others.

I don’t wear labels: I am without a nation, race, religion, or gender. I don’t wear a watch: I am not the product of a generation but a drifter of time zones.

I am not the absence of slavery but the triumph over it.

I am a warrior. I resist the criminals who mean to wrestle, shackle, and toss me in a cage like a wild animal at the zoo. I defend myself against the poachers who track my prints and encourage students on fieldtrips to press their runny noses against the glass, point at me with sticky fingers, and chant mocking slurs.

When politicians stuff me into a coveted velvet box I slip through the key hole and sneak out the window while they argue. When the media rests me on a high pedestal I fall off, roll out the door, and land in the street while they edit my picture.

They polish me with silk cloths and guard me with red lasers and men in suits, as if I’m a precious gem or ancient artifact. They shove me in a corner, chain me to the floor, and carve a smile across my face. They make me their puppet, using my mouth to express their biased and contorted views. They spit lies, seize control, and spread hate all in my name.

Their attempts are in vain.

I outsmart and shame terrorists, sexists, bigots, hypocrites, dictators, and racists. I slither through their closed fists and laugh as they scratch their heads in confusion, like children tricked by magic.

They can’t possess me.

I am not numb, although that’s what they like to believe. I am a living creature. I breathe air, require affection, and crave understanding. I’m a little insecure and uncomfortable with today’s ideals. I am inspired by generosity and disgusted by big money. I blush at compliments and flinch at insults. I long for scraped knees and sunburnt cheeks. I need fresh air, friendship, and eye contact, not contracts, gossip, and false promises. I value honesty and integrity.

I am a voice. I speak for the oppressed, belittled, and ignored. I am a platform for reform and an instrument of revolution. I endorse hopes and beliefs with my influence and experience. I adopt burdens and excuse mistakes. I try to shake every hand and hear every story, but I fail. I’m worried that I won’t make a difference. I’m worried that I won’t fulfill my purpose.

I am growing restless. I’m tired of wasting my time where I’m not appreciated or respected. I’m growing impatient with the entitled and immoral when many would fight and die just to meet me. I know where I am needed and whom I must protect. I should be in schools, on the frontlines, and at the dinner table between a platter of macaroni and cheese and a bottle of ketchup. I should part of conversations, curriculums, and negotiations. I should be a whisper amongst the overcome and a declaration upon a soapbox.

I am not a privilege. I am standard. I am deserved by all but known to few.

I am illuminated by those who view me with curiosity. I stand before individuals who believe in my beauty and to countries that value my gifts. I am within reach of those who will spend my treasures on justice and equality, not on power and wealth. I live within their trusting hearts, rooted in their passions and nourished by their convictions. I grow stronger with their united pulse.

Look at me, rambling on. I forgot to catch your name.

America, is it?

Are you sure we haven’t met before? I’m sure I recognize you.

Hmmm. Let’s be friends, either way. I feel like we have a connection.”

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