Moira Wright
Mr. Hersom
Writing
2/23/10
Italy
When I went to Italy in seventh grade, I thought I was going to have adventure and excitement, like you’re supposed to have in europe (and in Italy especially). This didn’t happen.
Don’t get me wrong. I loved Italy, and would go back there at the drop of a hat. It was beautiful and crazy and amazing and breathtaking... My family went to see the island of Murano, where they make all of those gorgeous glass sculptures. I got some really nice necklaces for my friends (one was this stunning clear glass heart, hollow, that had swirls of gold running through it) (my friend promptly broke it). I have to admit, though, I was a little disappointed. My parents never let me out of their sight, which was pretty annoying. I mean, how can you have adventure when your overprotective parents are breathing down your neck 24/7? There wasn’t even a chance for excitement. We did some really wonderful things, but they weren’t exactly exciting. For example, we must have seen 5 museums. Museums are nice and all, and some of the art is great, but they aren’t really my thing, and you have to admit, they are the some of the least exciting places on earth. I kept hoping that I’d be able to sneak off on my own through an unmarked door or something and have to save someone like in the movies (yeah right).
Let me tell you something. If you take kids (especially teenagers) to an exotic foreign place, they don’t want to spend family time with you every day, all day. They want to go off on their own, meet new people, form new relationships, build new bridges. They want to find someone who understands them, who they can have meaningful conversations with. How can they do all that when you’re dragging them to museums and tourist traps and to islands that you can’t immediately get off/take shelter in a safe dry place when a storm starts up? And then, when they do actually manage to escape your (good intentioned) chokehold, you are on the verge of calling the cops. Hello, 13 year olds know how to take care of themselves. I mean, most of them actually stay at home alone, without having their uncle look after them. *Gasp* How do they manage to keep from killing themselves or getting into a stranger’s car on the flimsy offer of candy or a new bike? How about a cellphone?
I read this book once, where the main character is a little bigger than most people, and her mother is always trying to force her to go on diets and stop eating as much. She has a horrible self image and is always putting herself down. Then her mom sends her off to Italy to stay with a family friend for the summer (I forget why). In Italy, she’s allowed to do whatever she wants, and slowly she gets stronger by walking everywhere and learns to love herself.
I wish something like this would happen to me. I have a few issues with my face and body (too plain and too skinny, respectively), and I just want to believe that if I got to go to a foreign country and give myself a social makeover (away from the prying eyes of my family) then I might learn to be happy with myself, too.
