The word “Sincerely” roots back to Michelangelo’s Pieta, a marble statue depicting the Virgin Mary grieving her son Jesus Christ after his crucifixion. Marble sculptures were incredibly difficult and fragile, oftentimes incorporating candle wax as a replacement for broken-off marble. Michelangelo’s Pieta, however, was sculpted so flawlessly down to the veins that there were zero traces of candle wax. Sincerely now essentially means “no-wax” and being 100 percent real.
I am no Michelangelo, nor am I metaphorically comparing myself to art like his, but Pieta and I do have one thing in common: we are both authentic. Although the Pieta has no cracks or imperfections, and I have several; I can confidently say that neither of us originally used wax to pretend.
My years of high school may have passed, but one factor always stuck: The Stinger. Shelby Ramirez, my Journalism teacher, introduced the embarrassed freshman version of me to a newfound voice of writing. Holding a physical copy of our newspaper grounded the sophomore-year me, who never felt at peace. The production room chairs held me as I wept over my maestro as an overwhelmed junior. And now, as a senior, I stand on the friendships and foundation The Stinger has provided for me.
Through all those versions of me, I gained more imperfections, more cracks to my marble— unlike the beloved Pieta. Certainly, my years of high school were not as smooth as polished marble, and many times I attempted to cover my struggles with my own candle wax. I found myself mean-spirited and lashing out at others about my issues. I changed aspects about myself in hopes of creating a more popular status, but instead lost some of my identity to please others.
The Pieta, too, was affected by the actions of others. On May 21, 1972, the Pieta was attacked and severely damaged by Laszlo Toth, a mentally unstable geologist. Artists patched her up with wax, and she continues to look brand new. Meaning both the Pieta and I cover up our imperfections to appeal to others.
As my senior year comes to an end, it’s common to be asked what advice I’d like to give to underclassmen. What I realized is that I could not advise without being true to how much I struggled in high school. Through this, I felt my candle wax begin to melt.
Now, I feel a lot lighter without the weight of wax covering my imperfections. I stick true to my passions and desires, being unapologetically myself. Whether it’s through blasting K-pop shamelessly, or laughing loudly and wide-mouthed with my imperfect teeth showing. I learned that forgiving yourself melts away all the efforts of hiding the things you feel shame for. And my advice to underclassmen would be to forgive the cracks in your marble and wear them proudly, for change is its own form of art.
Sincerely,
Thiffany Reimao
