While many forget about their childhood stuffed animals, sophomore Johnny Na’s stuffed bear is one of his most treasured possessions. Sitting near his bed, it is a nostalgic reminder of his childhood, something that feels almost as if it were from another life. The bear, sewn by his mom, represents everything he’s been through.

“She sewed my Korean first and last name onto the bottom of the foot,” Na said. “I think that it really holds a big piece of my heart, because it shows how much dedication she put into it.”

However, the stuffed animal bear’s significance is more than just a token of a mother’s love for her son. It also brings Na back to his childhood, the experience he and his family had while moving back and forth across the world and the time he spent with his old friends.

“When I look at it, it reminds me a lot of my childhood,” Na said. “It reminds me of all the old times, all the old friends I had and all the places I moved to and came back from.”

Na says that each move to a new city felt like leaving a part of himself behind. Having a memento to bring along made a big difference and gave him something to hold onto through trying times and big changes. For Na, his bear provided him that comfort as he moved from Korea to San Antonio in California, then to Santa Clara and back to Korea, before returning to California.

“I always keep it with me because it’s like a good luck charm,” Na said. “It was my mom’s first gift to me.”

From lying in the afternoon sun to laughing with friends, sophomore Katherine Wu’s childhood has always been highlighted with splashes of color. The different flavors and sticky sweetness of Otter Pops, her favorite childhood treat, hold a special corner of nostalgia in her life.

“(I remember) hot summer days with my best friend, David,” Wu said. “(We’d) play basketball and hang out in my backyard driveway. My favorite (flavor) was blue raspberry (and his was) watermelon.”

While Otter Pops may be familiar to many, Wu, who grew up in Massachusetts, knew them as “Freeze Pops.”

While she doesn’t necessarily miss their artificial nature, Wu recalls the atmosphere of peacefulness she associated with them.

“I don’t miss (eating) the snack but I miss the feeling of hanging out with my friends and just chilling all day,” Wu said.

Pre-COVID-19 memories feel far away, and Wu hasn’t seen her friends from Massachusetts or eaten an Otter Pop since the end of fifth grade. As the school year progresses, she reflects on what those moments meant to her and how she would feel enjoying her childhood treat again.

“I will probably just remember my old friends
from Massachusetts,” Wu said. “And how much fun I
had with them during (those) summers.”

For many, sentimental objects include a diary, old pictures or artwork. But for senior Dennis Tierney, it’s a small, simple piece of jewelry that holds layers of cultural significance, personal memory and tradition.

This necklace consists of a light knitted black string adorned with an evil-eye charm in the middle, a symbol deeply rooted in Turkish culture. It’s a symbol of protection that represents the belief that a jealous or envious look can cause misfortune.

“I’ve had this since I was 10,” he said. (Due to fraying), it keeps getting shorter and shorter, but it keeps the evil spirits away.”

Tierney, who speaks fluent Turkish, flies to his home country, Turkey, every year. To him, the necklace isn’t just a souvenir, it’s a meaningful artifact that represents more than just the time he spent shopping with his mom to get the gift in Aktur, Turkey — a small vacation town.

“(The evil eye) is a huge part of Turkish culture and the guy who made this died as well, so it’s kind of a memory of him as well,” Tierney said. “He was the guy that would make necklaces there, so he was a big deal . It’s one of the last ones he made.”

Although he isn’t religious, Tierney believes in the importance of honoring a piece of cultural heritage that resonates with many in Turkey, which is why he chooses to wear the necklace. While he was initially attracted to the appearance of the necklace, his appreciation changed as he understood its significance as a blend of culture, memory and personal narrative. Tierney wears his necklace proudly every day, reminding him of all his memories and connections to his culture.

“I don’t really believe in a spirit that actually keeps bad spirits away,” Tierney said. “But I like the cultural significance of it. I like the idea and it’s something that a lot of people in Turkey believe in and use.”

Avocados, ice, milk and condensed milk — Senior Kean Tong throws these ingredients into a blender, recreating her favorite childhood delicacy: an avocado smoothie. To many, a smoothie may be a beverage to cool them down on a hot summer day, but to Tong, it’s a diary page that has come to life. The smoothie captures the essence of her childhood, and it’s so much more than an avocado milkshake.

“I usually made it with my mom because, when I was little, I always wanted boba, and my mom (would say) ‘No, you can’t have boba every single day,’” she said. “So then she started making these smoothies with avocados that were more healthy.”

Tong would enjoy the smoothie year round — whether it was during the summertime with extra ice or during the cold winter months at family events.

“It’s technically a Vietnamese dessert, so I’ve brought it to potlucks and still make it often,” she said.

Despite her love for the drink now, there was a point in time where Tong disliked it because it wasn’t her average fruit smoothie and it differed in taste.

“I remember hating it at first because I thought, ‘Why would you blend avocados in my smoothie?’” she said. “It really pissed me off that I had to taste avocados in my smoothie all the time.”

Her changed attitude towards this childhood staple inspired her to actively seek it out and eventually create different versions of it to reminisce about her younger self.

“There was a long period of time when I didn’t have it, and then I had it again, and it was so nostalgic for me. So now I really like it,” Tong said. “Before, I didn’t actively want to drink an avocado smoothie, but now if I see somewhere that is selling it, I always have to try it.”

Looking at a glossy photo of her younger self holding an icy, pale yellow drink, junior Kristina Kibardina is transported back to her summer vacation in the Dominican Republic, reliving the contrasting emotions of joy from sipping a refreshing piña colada mixed with the frustration of an unexpected health incident.

“I have this photo of me before I got really, really sick,” Kibardina said. “I got some virus that ruined almost half my trip. That was a really memorable vacation.”

This photo lives in Kibardina’s memory box, which is the white packaging her computer came in. Despite its unassuming exterior, the box contains a variety of colorful photos, souvenirs and letters she has been keeping since elementary school. Some items, such as homecoming polaroids and seashells from Hawaii, help Kibardina remember fun memories, while others, like her first paycheck and graduation certificate, mark important milestones.

“I don’t look at them often but, whenever I feel like reminiscing or reflecting on past experiences, it’s nice to have a physical (collection of objects) that I can always go back to and look through,” she said. Because Kibardina finds it entertaining and nostalgic to sift through her memory box, she hopes to continue growing her collection and recommends that others create their own as well.

“I really want to keep my memory box for as long as possible, just to see my life throughout the years,” she said. “I want to keep adding to it so I can come back and reflect on my past to see how much I have grown.”

Five bowls lined up neatly on the dining table alongside porcelain spoons — each filled with steaming chicken soup and glistening wontons floating on the surface — greeted junior Xiwen Liang as she entered her grandparents’ house. After a 15 hour flight, the savory smell wafting towards her brought years of memories and a smile to Liang’s face.

This summer, five years since moving from China to the United States, Liang returned to her home country where she visited relatives and had the opportunity to eat her grandpa’s homemade crab wontons. Though wontons are a common food in China, especially in Suzhou where her grandparents live, the tomalley filling — yellow crab innards, considered a delicacy in China — and the effort required to make them stands out.

“It takes a long time to prepare, and you can feel the love they put into it,” she said. “They have to hand pick out all the tomalley from the crab meat without eating it, which is hard when it’s right in front of you.”

Even in Liang’s younger years, this dish was a rare treat that she and her sister only ate once a year. Each summer, when the family traveled to her grandparents house, they had the tradition of eating crab wontons as their first meal.

“It’s special because it’s my grandpa’s own recipe, and I have been eating them since childhood,” she said. “Now, it makes me feel nostalgic when I get to eat it.”

Missing the taste of authentic Chinese food and inspired after years of watching her grandpa make the wontons, Liang and her family started making their own wontons from scratch.

“We start with flour to make the dumpling wrappers, and we even bought a pasta machine to roll out the dough,” she said. “We don’t have good crabs over here though, so we can’t make the special version, but it still reminds me of family.”