On the last day of kindergarten, we were supposed to have a field day. Ice cream was being handed out, music was playing, and there were slip-and-slides. Kids, moms, dads, all hand-in-hand while laughing and going down the slides of inflatable bounce houses.

     I couldn’t help but cry, because my mom didn’t show up when she promised she would. My best friend at the time kept constantly feeding me ice cream because I was notorious for cheering up when given food. No surprise, it didn’t work, and I probably cried for around two hours.

     It wasn’t until later in the day, when my class performed our end-of-year concert that I saw my mom in the crowd, smiling and aggressively waving at me. Instantly, my face lit up, and I stopped crying.

     Similarly, on the last day of eighth grade, my class was given a graduation ceremony at the APAC. My mom and dad were both working, so they couldn’t make it. But my brother said he could come. I thought to myself, “Oh great, I would rather have no one come at all.”

     As we were getting seated on the stage, I saw all of my classmates waving to their families in the crowd. Remembering how I felt back in kindergarten, I was searching for my brother through the heaps of proud families. I thought that maybe he had forgotten or would be late. Disappointed again, I held back my tears.

     I kept searching and searching until I finally saw him. Turns out, he had been smiling and aggressively waving at me the entire time, waiting for me to see him. And again, my face instantly lit up.

     These experiences helped me understand the importance of showing up, even when the event is deemed “not that important.” I take the time to try and show up to the small things, letting people know I care about them because I know how it feels to not find a familiar face in the crowd. With a perspective, I’m Jacey Ly.