NYTimes Summer Reading Contest Winners' Words

There was little in my demeanor or comportment that suggested anything deviant, but the official administrative decision my school made was to force me to use the gender-neutral staff restroom.

There was little in my demeanor or comportment that suggested anything deviant, but the official administrative decision my school made was to force me to use the gender-neutral staff restroom.

There was little in my demeanor or comportment that suggested anything deviant, but the official administrative decision my school made was to force me to use the gender-neutral staff restroom.

I had to settle with defying this order throughout my final two years of high school, though not without a certain degree of shame; I had to settle with thinking of myself as “almost female enough to use the female restrooms.”

This small case in Colorado may seem relatively insignificant in our republic, where states can determine many of their own laws, but it is a massive first step in establishing a precedent for transgender children in our education system.

This small case in Colorado may seem relatively insignificant in our republic, where states can determine many of their own laws, but it is a massive first step in establishing a precedent for transgender children in our education system.

My opportunity to benefit from this growing change may have passed, but I still have the power of advocacy, the power to influence my school and others like it to change their policies for the better.

I have always been the type of person who ridicules teenage romances.

As the friar in Romeo and Juliet wisely states, two teenagers are “like fire and powder, / Which, as they kiss, consume.”

The two enjoy their time together, but the romance is fickle; they feel much more intense emotional pain later.

Thus, the teenagers who voluntarily place themselves in such situations are certainly inane and naïve, unable to learn from the mistakes of other schoolmates.

Thus, the teenagers who voluntarily place themselves in such situations are certainly inane and naïve, unable to learn from the mistakes of other schoolmates.

For this reason, when my friends have devastating breakups, I do not support them by offering words of comfort; instead, I pay no attention to their complaints and heavily hint that it is their own fault that they feel so bad.

I was intrigued by this article because it was able to radically alter my worldview in a matter of minutes.

I was intrigued by this article because it was able to radically alter my worldview in a matter of minutes.

I would think that Rob would feel betrayed, melancholy, and brokenhearted.

Such concepts are the antithesis to the years of observation formerly present in my mind.

The item that caught my eye this week in the Times was the obituary for Masao Yoshida.

Mr. Yoshida was the nuclear engineer in charge of Japan’s Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant when the 2011 tsunami hit.

He even offered to lead a “suicide mission” inside the reactor to continue the flow of vital cooling liquid to its core.

He even offered to lead a “suicide mission” inside the reactor to continue the flow of vital cooling liquid to its core.

What attracted me to Mr. Yoshida’s story was not just his heroics, but also his failings.

He apologized saying he was “too lax.”

Obituaries are often of famous people and people who have done great wrongs, world leaders and activists.

To me, this obituary of Mr. Yoshida was a portrait of a normal man.

He rose to the occasion when the crisis occurred, but his life was also marked by failings and wrong decisions, just like the rest of us.

But the whole of northern Japan could have been fatally contaminated with radioactive particles if he had not stayed in calm control of the plant for eight months following the earthquake.

What grabbed my attention in this article was the reality of our current situation, pointing out how dependent the vast majority have become on electricity, gadgets, and the internet.

What grabbed my attention in this article was the reality of our current situation, pointing out how dependent the vast majority have become on electricity, gadgets, and the internet.

Without this all consuming network of a false reality, there was time to think, explore, and discover.

Liking posts or pictures, following the most popular celebrities, or being constantly up-to-date on the whereabouts of your 500 closest friends was deemed unnecessary for survival.

Not only did time seem to materialize without the distraction of a buzzing pocket, but major personality changes were also noted.

Not only did time seem to materialize without the distraction of a buzzing pocket, but major personality changes were also noted.

It was interesting to read how the campers interacted more peacefully when they were forced to communicate face to face; all information coming from immediate sensory input.

The notes on the piano articulate smoothly as the sound embraces me softly.

The story is actually a serious one, and I was deeply moved by the article “Music in Istanbul Is Intermission for a Protest” and the accompanying video.

All was quiet, for the exhausted protesters were tensing, anticipating another fight.

I was, for lack of a better word, stupefied, to read about the huge crowd gathered around him as he played the familiar melody of “Let it Be” by the Beatles.

The assembly surrounding him was excited, eager, and hopeful.

Martillo played piano for fourteen hours straight, demonstrating talent to capture the audience and perseverance to perform for fourteen hours.