The Days of Understanding: Bringing students together at Rim High

By Isabella Dino

Special to the Alpine Mountaineer

 

It begins in the gym, as most things do in high school. A large space that has seen victories and losses, rallies and homecomings, all the rituals of adolescence that take place under bright fluorescent lights. But on the morning of Jan. 31, something else happens. The sophomores of Rim of the World High School gather not to win or to cheer, but to listen.

This is Days of Understanding – a day set aside for something rare in teenage life: introspection, vulnerability, the slow work of recognizing that the people around you are more than just bodies passing by in the hall. The event, led by international speaker Keith Hawkins, was not about cliches or empty inspiration. It was about confronting what it means to be young and already exhausted, what it means to believe and, despite everything, that things can get better.

Hawkins does not talk about overcoming. Overcoming suggests an end point. Instead, he talks about endurance.

Hawkins, who grew up in a violent Los Angeles neighborhood, understands struggle intimately. A single mother working endlessly, an abusive stepfather, a school system that seemed indifferent to whether he made it or not. He was not expected to succeed. But he did and now, he speaks to thousands of students each year – not to offer reassurances he doesn’t believe, not to tell them life will be fair, but to remind them that they are still here. That there is a future beyond the weight they carry now. That survival, despite everything, is still an option and that the most influential lesson life will teach you is one of endurance.

Throughout the day, students engage in activities that seem simple on the surface but unfold into something more vulnerable.

The Straw Challenge they played is, in theory, about balance. Each student holds a straw between their fingers, linked to the person beside them. The task is to move as a unit, to keep the fragile structure intact. But it quickly becomes clear that this is not about straws – it is about trust. About resisting the impulse to move too quickly, to pull away when things feel uncertain. The ones who struggle most are often those who have learned not to rely on others, who have been let down too many times before. But here, in this moment, they begin to understand – however reluctantly – that some things are easier when not carried alone.

Another game is the Awards Show, but it is not about awards. There is no stage, no applause, no polished speeches. Instead, students are asked to think of one person they would bring onto that stage if they could – someone who has mattered to them, who has shaped them in ways large or small. Some names come easily: a best friend, a sibling, a teacher who once said the right thing at the right time. Other names sit heavier in the throat. A parent who is trying. A grandparent who is gone. A person they should have thanked but never did.

Then there is the Walkathon Letter which asks for something more deliberate: the act of putting emotions into words. It is one thing to feel gratitude, regret, love; it is another thing entirely to write it down, to see it in ink, to admit that it exists. Some students write with a kind of urgency, as if the words have been waiting for them. Others hesitate, their pens hovering over the page. Because once something is written, it cannot be unsaid.

During these games Aydan Burns, a Link Crew member who helped lead the event, felt it was more than just another day at school or another extracurricular to put on her college applications.

“The Days of Understanding has been incredible opportunity for me and so many others. Keith is such an amazing guy; he is fun to be around and makes it a point to make everyone feel heard. Getting to help out was something I won’t forget. Meeting everyone and getting close with new people made me feel closer to the school. I feel a bigger responsibility for those around me now compared to before.”

And finally the last game, a Group Hug. It feels forced at first, artificial, something people endure rather than embrace. Some students hesitate at the edges, arms crossed, unwilling to give in to sentimentality. But then something shifts. The room closes in, the space between people disappears, and – for just a moment – everyone is part of something larger than themselves.

High school, for all its joys, is also a place of silent battles. There are students carrying responsibilities that no one sees. Students who have already learned, too early, what it means to be an adult. Hawkins speaks to them directly. He tells them that their struggles will pass, that they are temporary. That the weight they carry will not always feel so heavy.

It is the kind of thing that is easy to forget, especially in high school, where everything feels urgent, immediate, permanent. But for one day, beneath the same fluorescent lights that have witnessed it all – drama, fights, game days, dances – they remember. They remember that the people beside them are not just classmates or faces in the hallway but people with lives just as intricate as their own, carrying burdens that may look different but feel the same. And maybe the understanding will linger. Maybe, the next time someone stumbles, they reach out instead of looking away, and maybe the space between them will feel a little smaller and the world a little kinder.

 

 

Isabella Dino, a senior at Rim of the World High School, is currently the president of the school’s Literature Club. She writes about events and programs taking place at the school.