Lents 1

Elena Lents
Ms. Gardner
English Period 6
27 January 2016
Me, Myself and Eye
I inherited small eyes. With my mother being Chinese, it was expected. I grew up aware of them,
but I still struggled to wrap my head around the idea that such small eyes could hold so many
experiences. From seeing the incredibly beautiful glaciers of Alaska when I was only seven, to watching
the mesmerizing turquoise waves on an isolated beach in Mexico last summer. How is it possible for my
tiny eyes to store the hundreds of mental pictures I have taken? Like that time I went to the top of Sonoma
Mountain after sunset, and watched the little cars and lit up buildings for hours; or when I watched the
glistening waves from the back of a cruise ship, trying to understand what could possibly be out there. My
mother always told me that I had special eyes. As I grew, the deep shade of my eyes transformed. Slowly,
my almost black eyes changed to a mixture of earthy shades of light greens and browns. I liked to believe
that this phenomenon occurred because of the light that my life experiences had brought into my eyes. A
persons eyes hold their entire life; from the second they open them as a newborn baby, to their last
visions before death inevitably takes them away. By solely looking into someones eyes, their complex
web of emotions become clear. My eyes amaze me: somehow they hold all of my secrets, my memories,
and my feelings, while still managing to look so small.
I remember the day I first discovered that I needed glasses. I was in the fourth grade, and I was
convinced that it was normal that everything past five feet away was blurry. I found a pair of my sisters
old glasses buried underneath a pile of clutter in her room, covered in dust. I put them on just to see what
I looked like. To my surprise, it made everything around me slightly clearer. I proceeded to freak out and
tell my mother that my eyes didnt work.
It looks like youve joined the club, she said with a laugh.

Lents 2
Almost everyone in my family had ended up with glasses, and I, being the youngest, was the last
one to do so. I didnt want to be happy about it, but it felt good to be apart of something that I could share
with my family. Even if it meant I had to wear it on my face every day.
Within the next week, I went to my eye doctor and chose a pair of glasses that I would soon have
to put on every morning. The idea of it excited me. I imagined that with glasses, my outer appearance
would finally match my extensive ten-year-old vocabulary. I had to wait a week for them to arrive in the
mail; it dragged on and on. I did not want to wait a moment longer. What will the world look like? What
have I been missing? My eyes held my entire life and exactly what it meant to me, and I did not want it to
be blurry. Finally, the time came. Finally, I could see what everyone else could see. I remember the
moment I put them on like it was yesterday. Everything was so crystal clear, it was like a different Earth
than I had ever seen before. I walked outside and was in awe of what I saw. I could see each individual
leaf on the trees, the silky feathers of birds flying above me. It was overwhelming, but exhilarating. Now,
my eyes would be able to see exactly what they were holding: the beauty behind every person, location,
and object that I would ever see. I grew a respect for my new, flawless vision. I knew I was incredibly
lucky to be able to see the endless amount of amazing things in life: a passionate smile on a loved ones
face, bright colors everywhere I looked. I knew I was capable of seeing beautiful things, and I knew they
were not to be taken for granted.
A few years later, I decided to switch to contacts. After putting them on inside out, not cleaning
them correctly, and poking myself in the eye numerous times, I sort of got the hang of it. It was strange to
me how a feature so powerful and important on my face could also be hurt so easily. My grandmother
used to always tell me stories of mythology, and one of my favorites was the Eye of Horus. His left eye
was gouged out in battle, and I sat in amazement while she explained to me that his eye was magically
restored by Hathor. I could barely imagine how heavy his remaining eye must have been with experience
and adventure.

Lents 3
What would happened if my eye fell out right now? Would it just grow back?! I asked, at the
age of 6.
I wouldnt doubt it. Maybe Hathor is looking over us right now!
Hearing that reassured me. I never had to worry about losing an eye after that day. I still could
never understand why touching anywhere on my skin did not hurt, but the tiniest piece of dust placed in
my eye caused a burning pain. I assumed that with all of the wisdom my eyes had collected from the
many things I had seen, sensitivity came along with it.
When I was eleven years old, one of my closest friends went to Chicago with her family. When
she arrived back home, she told me all about the congested streets and frosty weather. One of her
favorites places that she visited was Loop's Pritzker Park, but only because there was a giant eyeball
sculpture placed in the center.
It was so weird. Everyone was so well behaved in the park. No one littered or anything!
We decided that it was because of the huge eye watching their every move. It must have been
something psychological. My mother once told me about an article in Human Nature where people who
were watched by robots in a video game made better choices. The power that eyes--even fake ones-have over people is astonishing.
The eyes of each person--whether they are blinking, staring, or crying--create an individual and
unique collection of stories that all together form their life. Everything each person has seen in their years
of life shape who they are as a person. My Uncle Rick, a brilliant surgeon, always had his bookshelves
filled with books about as many body parts as I could imagine. I remember one in particular, titled
Clinical Anatomy and Physiology of the Visual System. I flipped to the first chapter and what I saw only
reassured what I had believed all along:
The visual system takes in information from the environment in the form of light and analyzes and
interprets it. This process of sight and visual perception involves a complex system of structures,
each of which is designed for a specific purpose.

Lents 4
I agreed with it completely. Everything that I had ever seen during the years of my existence were
only an interpretation of what my life really was. It was never about what was visible to the naked eye,
but how the eye interpreted and absorbed it. My small eyes were capable of accomplishing so much more
than just seeing. Next time I took in information from the environment, I made sure to remember the
complex system that allowed me to do so. No one ever said that life was easy.

Works Cited
Remington, Lee Ann. Clinical Anatomy and Physiology of the Visual System. St. Louis, MO:
Elsevier/Butterworth Heinemann, 2012. Print.